The Golden Age of DC Sports?

Jim Schwartz back in my regular corner now (be sure to catch my guest appearance on LP Trax' "Old Guys Playin Rock and Roll" to understand why I wasn't at the Strasburg Inaugural!)

A remarkable sports event happened in DC this week. No, not that one!

My phone rang at 10 AM, and when I answered it, I heard the voice of local sports legend Dave Johnson on my phone. That would have been jarring enough, especially after meeting him recently at a local promostional appearance for a certain mattress company, and discovering that he looks NOTHING like his voice led me to visualize.

But he was asking me to hold on; I was about to join, at THEIR initiative, a conference call with Ted Leonsis, the new owner of the moribund Washington Wizards! Me -- who has purchased tickets to only a couple of Wizards' games in 10 years!

The gesture in itself was remarkable -- Ted's candor and desire to reach out to "his" fan base, unprecedented.

But it got me to thinking, in light of some of the OTHER events this week. And I realized that we are very likely on the verge of the dawning of the first great era of DC sports -- overall -- ever!

It was just last month that my idol, Tom Boswell, posed and tried to answer the following question: Assuming that Alex Ovechkin is the biggest star in the DC sports firmament, at this moment, who is #2? He came down to two choices -- neither of whom had yet played a single inning or down in DC -- Donovan McNabb and Stephen Strasburg.

After Tuesday night, I believe that question has been answered -- at least until October, Ovechkin is the #2 -- Strasburg is already #1!

I remember the (relatively unheralded) arrival to New York in 1984 of the phenom Dwight Gooden. We had no idea what we were getting, but we soon found out! He, at least, was protected in that he was preceded by the arrival by trade of Keith Hernandez, and the debut of the bigger phenom -- Darryl Strawberry -- the year before. More on this comparison in a moment.

Strasburg has a far less imposing cast of leaders around him. Sure, having sure fire Hall of Famer Pudge Rodriguez back from injury to handle him was a huge help (and probably the best explanation for the delay in his debut!). Sure, Ryan Zimmerman is making his case as the top 3rd baseman in an era of outstanding third basemen. But that is it -- and as good as these two are -- they are no Hernandez and Strawberry!

By the end of that rookie year, Gooden was to be forever known as "Dr. K," a powerful play on the great Julius Erving, just as Strasburg very quickly became known to his teammates in spring training as "Jeezus" -- not for being the anointed savior of the franchise, but as in the ubiquitous "Jeezus -- did you see how hard that kid throws?!" reaction of the veterans when they first saw him pitch!

In his second season, Gooden went 24-4 with a 1.53 ERA and almost 300 strikeouts, but the Mets came up just short of the playoffs again. During that off-season, no less than Bob Gibson uttered this now ironically prophetic question when asked about Gooden: Will he be able to deal with the reality that he may never have a better season than he had last year, at age 21?

By the time his Mets won the '86 World Series, Gooden was no longer the absolute ace -- he was arguably the WORST Mets' starter that post-season, and his receipt of his ring at the start of '87 was delayed by his first suspension for drug abuse. His running mate, Strawberry, soon followed suit as well.

I remind everyone of Gibson's comment, and the premature self-inflicted downfall of Gooden AND Strawberry, as a cautionary tale. What if we have already seen the best of Stephen Strasburg? Of the 5 pitchers in the modern era to strike out 12 or more in their first Major League start, 2 never matched the numbers from that opening game in the rest of their career. A third, JR Richard, matched his total, but became a different pitching tragedy. Strasburg is the fourth -- jury still out, but hype forming to the left! Only the masterpiece of Juan Marichal's premiere led to greatness following.

And sure, it is easy to be euphoric at the thought of Bryce Harper joining Strasburg in a couple of years, as Gooden joined Strawberry, to form the best young pitcher/hitter combo of their day. And from all appearances, outside of his choice of agent, he, too appears to be the kind of kid who should make it big. But -- he is not going to be rushed. And potential is one thing -- performance another.

But still, realize what this week was -- and what it almost was. We saw the present and the future of the Nationals, and we need dark sunglasses because of the bright glare as for one night at least, DC became the center of the baseball universe, and the performance actually exceeded the expectations. As the Chicago Blackhawks raised the Stanley Cup for the first time in a half century (minus 1 measly year), it was easy to be glad for them, thankful that the despised Flyers DIDN'T win. But it also reminded us how close that event was to ALSO being held here in DC this week, and the appearance of the Hershey Bears in the Calder Cup Finals tonight tells us that the Caps will only be getting better.

So to have Ted Leonsis calling me this week, with his positive model of ownership, his track record of rebuilding success, and armed with the #1 pick in the draft this summer, and to have a new regime and a star quarterback about to report to Redskins camp in a few brief weeks, it is all VERY overwhelming. Maybe even enough to take away our sadness, during this month of World Cup soccer brilliance, at the collapse of the one consistant champion in DC sports -- DC United.

Oh what might have been! Oh what might still be!

An Introduction

My apologies -- I should have posted this essay first -- how rude of me!

As the good Rabbi has already so graciously done on HIS blog, let me introduce myself. I am James Schwartz -- my friends (and I hope to consider ALL my readers my friends) call me Jim -- former athlete, former college sports editor, now grudgingly middle aged, and wondering when my world changed so significantly.

I have raised my kids to be fans of sports, and even to participate, and have tried to make sure they do it "right" -- with grace and respect. They try to show respect to the visiting team, to win and lose equally with grace and respect -- sometimes succeeding! They HAVE, however, picked up on my disdain of poor officiating!

As Steve explained -- besides being an outlet for my own frustrations as I deal with my limitations in life (!), this blog will try to do 3 things.

1) To comment positively on sporting current events, seeking to draw larger lessons from them.
2) To take on the sacred cows of professional sports and fandom, and point out when the Emperor is walking around naked.
3) To share some truly bizarre and obscure stats and factoids, with the hope of stirring discussion, debate, even argument!

So, even if you are NOT a big sports fan, I invite you to come along for the ride. You may not always get what is going on, you may not always agree with what I say, but I hope you will NEVER be bored here!

The "Imperfect Game"

There is a beautiful irony that attends to most sports -- both professional and amateur. Most of us, as fans and followers of sports, tend to quantify the activities on the field for the purpose of comparisons -- of players, teams, even eras (although this latter is fraught with inaccuracies). Yet, at the same time, the romance, the soul, the CONNECTION most of us have to the game is anecdotal. It is narrative, not numerical. It is through the stories of the experiences that we truly feel connected -- to OUR team, to THAT game, etc. The truly great plays and games are not reduced to numbers, but are given names -- "The Catch" by Willie Mays in the 1954 World Series; "The Immaculate Reception" by Franco Harris that began the string of dominance of the Pittsburgh Steelers; "The Ice Bowl" NFL championship game, played on the "frozen tundra" of Lambeau Field in sub-human conditions.

For me, growing up with the New York Mets, learning the game of baseball roughly at the same time that they were, the phrase "The Imperfect Game" has always referred to that game on July 9, 1969, when the amazing Tom Seaver came within 2 outs of a perfect game, before giving up a very clean, if dream-shattering, single to an asterisk in baseball history, Jimmy Qualls (for his major league career, which lasted 3 non-consecutive seasons played with the Cubs, Expos, and White Sox, Qualls managed only 30 other hits, 10 RBI, and no homers). As if to prove my point, in looking up those stats, I was amazed to find that Qualls has an extensive response on Google, no doubt exclusively because of that single hit in that singular game.

But, after last night, even THAT must now change. What else can we ever call the performance of Armando Gallaraga, combined with that of umpire Jim Joyce? THAT truly was the "Imperfect Game." Tom Terrific will need to be amended to the "Near Perfect Game," and if the Mets EVER find someone to pitch a real no-hitter, maybe even that moniker will finally fade.

But can we analyze what happened last night for a minute, because in that one moment, a story was created that transcends the player, the umpire, even the sport. Sadly, we can predict what will happen -- the public, spurred by the obnoxious talking heads of the jockocracy of sports radio and the ESPN empire, will scream for an expansion of instant replay, which will further dilute the purity of the game, and hamstring the umpires in doing their jobs effectively (just look at how video replay has castrated NFL officials and worsened, not improved, the quality of calls on the field -- does anyone YET know who really recovered the onside kick at the start of the second half of the Super Bowl (tm)?).

Worse, though understandable, are the reactions of writers like Ian O'Connor, who called in his blog this morning for Commissioner Bud Selig to OVERTURN the facts on the field, and award Galarraga a "perfect game" anyway! Here was my response to that stupidity:

"Sorry, Ian, but this time you have it dead wrong. Understandable, but dead wrong. And this, coming from someone who is anything BUT a romanticist for the "good old days" of "pure" baseball. In fact, it is YOUR romantic soul that is blinding you here.

"What happened last night, however unintentionally or inaccurately, isn't about fair and unfair, or even right and wrong. It is about class, and integrity, and what really matters in life. It is also about recognizing that words still have meaning, a vanishing truth that you, as a writer, need to defend. Yes, a GREAT baseball story was ruined by an umpire's blown call. Or was it?

"Let's suppose Jim Joyce, one of the few MLB umpires I would actually support in a case like this, both because of his long record of being one of the few impeccably good ones, and because of his incredibly honest and graceful admission after the game, had gotten it right. Only time will tell if Galarraga's 3rd MLB perfect game in a month would have been the last of this bizarre season. Even if it was, he would STILL have been reduced to a footnote in history, the least likely of the three pitchers to be remembered, except by sports bar bettors and Google junkies.

"Now, because of the events that really happened, Galarraga's asterisk in baseball history is FAR BRIGHTER! He will be remembered long after his career ends, like Jimmy Qualls, for his role in a brief moment of NEAR perfection, of IMperfection -- not his own, but someone else's. His performance on the field was not tarnished one bit by this mistake. His place in history WOULD BE, if Selig were to try to change the facts, which are incontrovertible.

"God help us all if a commissioner of a league EVER did as you suggest he should, and stepped in to change the FACTS that occurred on the field of play. Even in this case, where the game's outcome was not affected. THAT Pandora's Box being opened is one all sports fans would regret for the rest of time. Sure, the NFL went back to the tapes after OJ Simpson's last game in 1973, and reassigned three yards he was originally charged as a rushing loss as a passing loss. But a) that didn't overturn a call on the field, and b) that didn't make him the first to reach 2000 yeards in a season -- it moved him to 2003. Big difference!

"But let's suppose Bud DOES step in -- after all, his track record on what is really best for baseball is almost as poor as Quall's lifetime stats. We would then spend the rest of eternity referring to a game which SHOULD be remembered not only for its IMPERFECTION, but for the graceful way in which both umpire AND pitcher responded to human imperfection, as a "perfect game." Am I the only one left who sees the problem in this, the neutering of the meaning of perfection?

"Ironically, it was just a few weeks ago, after his own pitcher threw the last perfect game, that renowned statistical guru Billy Beane all but dismissed his pitcher's accomplishment as "statistically meaningless," because of all of the things that could accidentally interfere with reaching that pinnacle result of perfection. A pebble, a breeze, a fan's reach -- all before we get to an error on the field -- could deny perfection. So too, we are now forced to realize, can an umpire's honest mistake deny perfection. Humans are imperfect, we need to get over it!

"And honestly, if we judge by the so-called best interests of the game, here was an error that had no impact on the only REAL outcome that matters, the result of the game. Is Joyce's blunder worse than that of Don Denkinger in Game 6 of the 1985 World Series? Of course not -- it changed nothing of the outcome of the game. If Denkinger gets that call right, the Cardinals ALMOST assuredly win the Series that they eventually lost after an AMAZING flameout in Game 7 by their own players. Did they have it in their hands to rally and win anyway? Of course -- but it is so easy, so tempting, to blame someone else who was so obviously wrong. How sad and ironic that this morning, Denkinger is among the loudest voices calling for more replay usage.

"Here is MY suggestion for Bud Selig, if he TRULY cares about the integrity of the game AND making this unfortunate mistake turn out for good, and feels that he is obligated to do SOMETHING (a position which I do not necessarily find compelling -- as both Bertrand Russell, and my mother-in-law, both said in their own way "sometimes not to act is to act"). Put Galarraga IN the record book, under perfect games, with an asterisk. Explain, in the footnote, exactly what happened -- that, left to their own devices, the players on the field completed a perfect game thrown by their pitcher, but that something else prevents it from being fully viewed for what it should have been. Oh, and while you are at it, Buddy Boy, could you please do the same thing with Ernie Shore in 1917, Harvey Haddix in 1959 (still the greatest individual performance by a pitcher EVER!), and Pedro Martinez in 1995, as well as the 4 shortened perfect games in MLB history, all of which were REMOVED from the record books (except Pedro's which happened after the change) by a DEFINITION change in 1991!!?? All of these performance share the same characteristic -- every batter faced by the pitcher on that day, through 9 innings (12 in Haddix's game, 10 in Martinez's), or the calling of the game earlier, failed to reach base through the efforts of the PLAYERS on the field.

I am truly amazed at a couple of things in the aftermath of this game. First, no one has raised the comparison to Hooks Wiltse of the New York Giants on July 4, 1908 -- an injustice MOST similar to what happened last night. I quote, albeit guardedly, from Wikipedia:

"On July 4, 1908, Hooks Wiltse of the New York Giants hit Philadelphia Phillies pitcher George McQuillan on a 2–2 count in a scoreless game — the only time a 0–0 perfect game has been broken up by the 27th batter. Umpire Cy Rigler later admitted that he should have called the previous pitch strike 3. Wiltse pitched on, winning 1–0; his ten-inning no-hitter set a record for longest complete game no-hitter that has been tied twice but never broken."

So let's list Wiltse for his legitimate 10-inning no-hitter (even under the redefinition), but ALSO give him the asterisk he deserves for his perfect game, because this is a direct parallel to Joyce's admission (although, I would be MUCH more sanguine about the accuracy of Rigler's remorse if I had video of this event, and hadn't seen the last pitch of Don Larsen's perfect game in the 1956 World Series, which combine to make me wonder about some post-game "confessions" by umpires!).

The bottom line, as Billy Beane would tell us, is that last night Armando Galarraga pitched the IMPERFECT Game, a distinction far greater than if he had merely pitched a perfect one, and far more relevent. Because the story from last night's game SHOULDN'T be the imperfection. NO ONE is questioning why Cabrera ranged so far out of his normal first base position to field the grounder in the first place -- it really was the second baseman's ball. And the more natural play, and easier throw to the pitcher covering COULD have removed the doubt from umpire Jim Joyce's view and mind! Yet Cabrera is not being scrutinized and villified this morning! Could the obvious answer be that Cabrera was SO excited about being a piece of history, and not just a victory, that it clouded his baseball judgment and instincts??

No, the real story was the grace, honesty, and integrity, under incredible fire, demonstrated by TWO professionals -- the borderline major league pitcher, 2 weeks removed from minor league ball, whose last start had been skipped in the rotation, losing every kid's childhood dream on a bad call; and the professional, well-respected umpire, who was just doing his job, thought he saw something, and responded accordingly, and who, after looking at the replay, not only freely admitted that he was wrong, and the gravity of his error, but seemed genuinely upset at himself for it. And the hug that these two imperfect human beings shared when the truth was known -- one seeking forgiveness, the other accepting the apology and reality.

Lou Gehrig, the "Iron Horse," whose incredible baseball talents were eclipsed for almost his entire career by teammates -- Babe Ruth and then Joe DiMaggio -- has always been my ideal of the consumate professional athlete. He showed up every day for work, played for the love of the game, achieved remarkable results, and never once complained about not having the spotlight. On June 3, 1932, he had what was, unquestionably, the highlight of his career -- hitting four home runs in a single game.

When he came into the clubhouse, after the game, justifiably proud of his accomplishment, the press corps started playing up the "finally Lou gets the spotlight" angle, until someone came rushing in, to let everyone know that John McGraw, the manager of the cross-town Giants, had just retired. Even on his greatest day, Gehrig had to share the headlines -- again!

So how ironic is it that, on this night of true human perfection displayed through honest human imperfection, when a pitcher and an umpire were thrust into the spotlight together, and both responded by admirably not losing themselves in the glare, that they ended up sharing the headline with the retirement of the player who may be the last gasp of Gehrigian ideals, of the clean era, Ken Griffey, Jr.?? Maybe all hope ISN'T lost!