Alright, since the baseball season is long and can become tedious, I am going to try and post my "Cubs Quote of the Day" every few days, just to give me something random to look for on the endless sites I visit each day. Instead of posting after each game, I will post my thoughts on the games at the end of the series, for sake of space and my fingers' willpower.
"That's pretty classy," Piniella said. "Prince is a classy young man anyway."
Yes, Lou, that was classy, and the way baseball should be played. Anyone who has the same name as the man who sang the song "Purple Rain" is alright in my book. Stay Classy, Prince.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
Cubs Steal Series Up North
After a give-away loss Friday night, the Chicago Cubs bounced back to win the series' final two games against the Milwaukee Brewers. Led by the bat of Alfonso Soriano (belting two long home runs and also joining a very exclusive club during the series) and the jumping ability of Reed Johnson, who robbed an otherwise game-tying Grand Slam by Brewers first basemen Prince Fielder on Sunday night, the Cubs actually won the series (Hold your breath here Cubs fans) on...PATIENCE. Yes, patience at the plate. The Brew Crew issued four (4) bases-loaded walks to the Cubs during Sunday night's game. It was a change of pace for Pinella, considering Kevin Gregg and the rest of the reliever's felt it necessary to throw 55-foot, 3-2 sliders to pinch hitter Chris Duffy, whose last contact with wood was the furniture he moved last week. For the series, the atmosphere was reminiscent of a playoff series in April and both Cubs and Brewers fans alike made the journey to Miller Park (which is an excellent ballpark, by the way). I refuse to call the Cubs/Brewers matchup THE RIVARLY OF THE CENTRAL quite yet, but it is definately becoming a great series to watch. Good baseball (for the most part) and good competition (See: Sportsmanship of Prince Fielder after Reed Johnson robbed that ball). All-in-all, great roadtrip for the Cubs to start 09 off. I'll take 4-2 with a smile.
Lastly, my good friend and former roommate, we will give him the alias Stewie Griffin, is an "avid" Milwaukee Brewers fan and was born and raised in Milwaukee. He is a stubborn fan and to my knowledge, the fan that no one likes: He acts like he is a die-hard (you know the type), but doesn't know when the Brewers play and couldn't name 30% of the total roster. On Friday night my cell was lighting up after I had just come down from my verbal assault of Kevin Gregg and the stupid mistake(s) the Cubs had just completed to give the Brewers the series opening win and it read "Stewie Griffin Calling...." I decided that in the best interest of our friendship that I need not take the call and promptly responded with a text message which read, "There is a reason they play 162 games..." Being the respectful fan that I am (I consider myself a diehard Cubs fan and don't feel it necessary to succomb to such ignorant sportsfanmanship), I decided not to call Joe, oops I mean Stewie, back on Saturday or Sunday night....Instead, we will just wait and see because the Cubs and Brewers still see each other 15 more times in 2009. But if you are reading this Stewie, here is my revenge, for all of my classmates and Cubs fans to see...
Onward to Wrigley on Monday! I'm guessing the weather will be beautiful as it always is in Chicago in April.
Lastly, my good friend and former roommate, we will give him the alias Stewie Griffin, is an "avid" Milwaukee Brewers fan and was born and raised in Milwaukee. He is a stubborn fan and to my knowledge, the fan that no one likes: He acts like he is a die-hard (you know the type), but doesn't know when the Brewers play and couldn't name 30% of the total roster. On Friday night my cell was lighting up after I had just come down from my verbal assault of Kevin Gregg and the stupid mistake(s) the Cubs had just completed to give the Brewers the series opening win and it read "Stewie Griffin Calling...." I decided that in the best interest of our friendship that I need not take the call and promptly responded with a text message which read, "There is a reason they play 162 games..." Being the respectful fan that I am (I consider myself a diehard Cubs fan and don't feel it necessary to succomb to such ignorant sportsfanmanship), I decided not to call Joe, oops I mean Stewie, back on Saturday or Sunday night....Instead, we will just wait and see because the Cubs and Brewers still see each other 15 more times in 2009. But if you are reading this Stewie, here is my revenge, for all of my classmates and Cubs fans to see...
Onward to Wrigley on Monday! I'm guessing the weather will be beautiful as it always is in Chicago in April.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Mike Fontenot's Hair is Awesome
The Cubs' offensive onslaught of the Houston Astros Wednesday night in a 11-6 win captured a 2-1 series win to start off the 2009 season. Kusuke Fukudome led the Cubs with four hits and a home run and The Bayou Basher (Fontenot) matched a career high with four RBI's. Ted Lilly looked less than stellar, giving up four home runs, yet still receiving the win.
Now to the important stuff: As I watched the win last night, I couldn't help but notice how sweet Mike Fontenot's blonde locks were! I think he should just grow em' out for the remainder of the season, Al-la Matt Clement's chin-beard of the 2003 season. Chicks dig it, Mike!
Athletes in the past have had some serious up-do's, mullets, shaved heads, "the chinstrap" beard and many more...
Give me a few of your favorites!
Why the Strike of 1994 was Inevitable
Tony Gwynn was closing in on Ted Williams' batting average record, the up-and-coming phenom Ken Griffey Jr. ended the season with 40 home runs and the Montreal Expos were the front-runner to win the World Series with a record of 74-40.
In the blink of an eye it was gone: The records, the averages, the home runs and the money.
The Major League Baseball strike of 1994 was as inevitable as Phil Jackson drawing-up a last second shot for Michael Jordan in a timeout.
The Major League Baseball strike ultimately cost owners millions of dollars in lost revenue and the disillusionment for fans across the country.
The tension between owners and the MLBPA didn't happen overnight and could have been avoided if the owners would have been more flexible in the early days of salary negotiations and free agency issues. The owners across Major League Baseball have one interest and that is the bottom-line. Cash is king in Major League Baseball and the owners wanted it all for their own endeavors. As Helyar notes in Lords of the Realm, owners such as Gussie Busch wanted exclusive rights on advertising, specifically his Budweiser beer ads. In Atlanta, Ted Turner was building a behemoth television network that brought in more money for his franchise then had been seen up to date. The owners were making money and the players were unhappy at their compensation program.
As the Collective Bargaining Agreement expired in December of 1993, the foundation of the house began to crumble. The main issue stalling the two parties was the owners desire to implement a salary cap and the players did not feel that a salary cap was fair compensation for their on-the-field attributes.
In June of 1994, the owners presented their Collective Bargaining Agreement to the MLBPA:
- Seven year contract that split total revenue 50/50, while "phasing in" a salary cap over a span of four years
- Provided revenues didn't fall, players would be guaranteed $1 billion total in salary and benefits during 1994
- Limited salary arbitration, but allowed players with 4-6 years experience to become a free agent
- Players "share" of revenue would decrease from 56% to 50%
- Players did not want to share revenue and the loss of arbitration would remove major impetus' to higher paid and more deserving salaries
- Free agency was becoming liberalized, but only on the catch that a club could retain a player by matching the seeking clubs offer
- Health care, pensions and other benefits would be taken from the players' 50% revenue share
As Heylar notes, Curt Flood was traded because of his desire to an increased salary. He was a landmark in St. Louis and Gussie Busch, the Cardinals owner, refused to pay him fairly. The debate on "fair market value" for players could have been avoided in 1994 if owners' from earlier generations had been more flexible to the idea of fair compensation plans. As ticket prices soared and advertisements streamed in, the revenues that the owners saw were becoming increasingly higher. Economically speaking, as supply (revenues) goes up, so does demand (the players right to higher compensation programs).
The strike of 1994 caused serious distress for America's national past-time. Along with the loss of revenue, the loss of regular season games and playoffs, the fans became disenchanted with Major League Baseball.
Where does it end? How do you diagram a fair compensation program? Who should be paid what? These are all questions that are out of my ballpark. I do know one thing, however, the owners can sit in their luxury box and say Player A should be paid 'this' and Player B 'that', but they are not on the field, leaving their emotions onto the field. They are financially devoted, yes.
But when do you draw the line on a game?
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Words Just Can't Explain...
For anyone who reads this thing, here is what I couldn't read out-loud in class this morning. I could only get through the first few sentences before the sight of my father and grandfather together entered vividly into my mind. I was shocked at my reaction, all things considered. I feel as though it isn't fair that I receive full credit for the assignment because I didn't follow through with the reading, so here is the full shebang! So, here ya go, no tears, just my typed words:
I grew up playing sports.
My family rarely had “family dinners”, not because we didn’t love one another, but because the six children were always playing sports, going to after school camps and practices. It was instilled into me at a young age that winning is fun, and as my dad often puts it, “It is good to be king.”
I traveled throughout my childhood on a baseball team called Forest City Pallet, that ended up winning the Little League World Series in Jersey City, N.J., when I was 14. It was the best summer of my life. Not because of the wins (we went 85-7 that summer), but because it is the last time my grandfather and my father, together, saw me compete.
A little background for those unfamiliar with the Lotzer family tree: My father was a star athlete in high-school and college, playing for Rockford Boylan High and averaging 29 PPG over his three year varsity career and landing a full-ride to the University of Wisconsin. I don’t know exactly when he started drinking, but I remember it all too vividly the “chaos” that surrounded us during those times. He wasn’t violent, he was still a great person and he loved my family. He taught me everything I know about sports and I am grateful for that. He had a stroke this year and finally decided it was time to end the days of partying and find something deeper in life. I can see it in his eyes, the lost years, the lost opportunity, the lost promises.
My grandfather Ray was a great man. He was married to my grandmother Katherine for 68 years before he passed away in 2005 from a very difficult struggle with Alzheimer’s disease. He played minor league ball for the Cubs and Yankees during the Great Depression. He gave my brothers and I a scorecard from the 1932 Yankees World Series game played at Wrigley Field in which Babe Ruth “called his shot”. Talk about priceless. Grandpa never missed one of my games. He was one of my biggest fans and I remember the first time I looked into the crowd and didn’t see him standing up with a smile on his face, his glasses larger than life, his depleted Cubs hat hanging over his ears and my grandmother attached to his side as though it were 40 years earlier.
It was tough for my father to go through this. He had everything in life: His parents lived in the same home for 70 years, he had six loving brothers and sisters and now he had a family of his own to support and love. But when my grandfather died, his drinking escalated and our relationship became distant.
I remember in Little League, before my final game, my dad, grandfather and I went to grab a quick bite to eat and then head to the stadium for the game. I did not know or understand that this would be the last time that they would see their youngest child and grandchild play in a game. I wish I could go back in time.
To me, having those two men in the crowd for my games was something I never realized the importance of until right now, at this very moment, in this very classroom. I worshiped the ground that they walked on and I was proud. Not proud because of their athletic accomplishments, but proud because I was lucky enough to see them together. And honestly, before seven months ago, it was the happiest I had seen my father in years.
That is the proudest and happiest moment of my sporting life. Not the winning shots I have had, the game winning touchdown runs or passes or the game winning hits. But the moment I saw my role models, my father Mark and my grandfather Ray, together at a little league baseball game.
I grew up playing sports.
My family rarely had “family dinners”, not because we didn’t love one another, but because the six children were always playing sports, going to after school camps and practices. It was instilled into me at a young age that winning is fun, and as my dad often puts it, “It is good to be king.”
I traveled throughout my childhood on a baseball team called Forest City Pallet, that ended up winning the Little League World Series in Jersey City, N.J., when I was 14. It was the best summer of my life. Not because of the wins (we went 85-7 that summer), but because it is the last time my grandfather and my father, together, saw me compete.
A little background for those unfamiliar with the Lotzer family tree: My father was a star athlete in high-school and college, playing for Rockford Boylan High and averaging 29 PPG over his three year varsity career and landing a full-ride to the University of Wisconsin. I don’t know exactly when he started drinking, but I remember it all too vividly the “chaos” that surrounded us during those times. He wasn’t violent, he was still a great person and he loved my family. He taught me everything I know about sports and I am grateful for that. He had a stroke this year and finally decided it was time to end the days of partying and find something deeper in life. I can see it in his eyes, the lost years, the lost opportunity, the lost promises.
My grandfather Ray was a great man. He was married to my grandmother Katherine for 68 years before he passed away in 2005 from a very difficult struggle with Alzheimer’s disease. He played minor league ball for the Cubs and Yankees during the Great Depression. He gave my brothers and I a scorecard from the 1932 Yankees World Series game played at Wrigley Field in which Babe Ruth “called his shot”. Talk about priceless. Grandpa never missed one of my games. He was one of my biggest fans and I remember the first time I looked into the crowd and didn’t see him standing up with a smile on his face, his glasses larger than life, his depleted Cubs hat hanging over his ears and my grandmother attached to his side as though it were 40 years earlier.
It was tough for my father to go through this. He had everything in life: His parents lived in the same home for 70 years, he had six loving brothers and sisters and now he had a family of his own to support and love. But when my grandfather died, his drinking escalated and our relationship became distant.
I remember in Little League, before my final game, my dad, grandfather and I went to grab a quick bite to eat and then head to the stadium for the game. I did not know or understand that this would be the last time that they would see their youngest child and grandchild play in a game. I wish I could go back in time.
To me, having those two men in the crowd for my games was something I never realized the importance of until right now, at this very moment, in this very classroom. I worshiped the ground that they walked on and I was proud. Not proud because of their athletic accomplishments, but proud because I was lucky enough to see them together. And honestly, before seven months ago, it was the happiest I had seen my father in years.
That is the proudest and happiest moment of my sporting life. Not the winning shots I have had, the game winning touchdown runs or passes or the game winning hits. But the moment I saw my role models, my father Mark and my grandfather Ray, together at a little league baseball game.
Cubs Start 09 Campaign with Win in Houston
Carlos Zambrano pitched the cubs to a 4-2 victory on Monday night in Houston. Big Z went six innings, giving up one earned run while striking out six. It was his first opening day win in five attempts.
Soriano led the game off with a home run, his 50th career lead-off home run. Aramis Ramirez had a solo shot and Mike Fontenot added three hits.
The biggest positive for the Cubs may have been the relief pitching of Aaron Heilman, Neal Cotts and Carlos Marmol, all of whom earned a "Hold" in Monday night's game.
In other news, Kusoke Fukudome looked like the savior of 2008, going 0-4 in his 2009 debut. See what Tribune writer Steve Rosenbloom thinks of Fukudome batting 2nd in the order here.
Baseball season is underway and echoes of "This is the Cubs Year" is running rapidly throughout Cubs Nation. My thoughts? Easy Joben! (Bad attempt at humor if you have seen the movie I Love You, Man). It is early, Soriano will not hit 162 home runs and Big Z isn't going 36-0. Take win number one with a grain of salt and take it for what it is worth: Win number one out of 162.
Monday, April 6, 2009
The Greatest Day in Sports
I sit and type, as excited as an infant walking into some type of Candy Land abyss.
It is only 9:25 a.m. and I cannot concentrate on school, work, finding jobs after school, anything. I need 6:05 p.m. to be here, so I can sit down on my couch, grab a cold one, and turn my brain off until the Cubs record the final out of their first game.
Baseball season is finally upon us. I'm one of the college bred students who bitterly say the same thing every year on this day: "The National Championship is on tonight (Does the Big Ten still under-perform? HATERS!) and the Cubs play their season opener...So why do I have a test, a paper and two other assignments due tomorrow? This should be a national holiday!"
Well, sorry professors, my work will suck for the fourth consecutive year because I simply L-O-V-E this day in sports. I take it back, I don't just love sports; I am infatuated with it, I long for it, I think about it every second of every single day. Sports is the cheese in my macaroni, the syrup on my pancakes, the home cooked meal I've wanted since Christmas.
Sports fans, enjoy this day to the fullest. Go with your friends for a few good laughs and a few cold pints, because it is almost over for some of us, and it sucks.
Go Cubs!
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