This morning after sleeping late again, I walked in the cold and clammy weather about a mile to Capitol Hill, to the Noah’s Bagels there for breakfast. The area has a mix of 13th grade students going to the community college, rich kids showing daddy who’s boss by not living in a downtown loft and looking like Pat Benatar, and a sprinkling of people who’ve been down on their luck for the last 20 years. Walking back downtown by a different route, I begin to notice Ohio State fans at every turn. As the day progresses, I see more and more, like a spreading virus that you can actually see. Few appear to be students (or at least present students). Instead, most appear to be accountants and their wives. The wives appear to have been insisting that they get to go on this Seattle trip to celebrate meeting their Mary Kay yearly sales goal. The run to Bloomington for that all-important OSU-Indiana matchup just won’t do.
After a workout I began slowly making my way over to Safeco Field, at the south edge of downtown, hoping to get there in time for batting practice. To get there, I had to pass through Pioneer Square, one of the oldest areas of the city. Pioneer Square has a lot of red brick buildings and even some brick streets, dating from about the late 1800s. Its proximity to Qwest Stadium and Safeco Field has given rise to numerous pubs, restaurants and sports bars. On a past trip, this is where I took the Seattle Underground tour, showing part of the original city before floods and fire caused the local merchants to build up the downtown elevation (not unlike what Galveston did after the 1900 hurricane). But this time I skip the tour. Still hanging in there is Elliott Bay Books, a huge book store that is actually a book store and where the people who work there actually have read many of the books they’re selling. No fancy couches, CD/DVD sections, toys, yogurt, or gift wrap bins—they just sell books. The shelves and walls are made of unglamorized, undecorated wood. The shelves are replete with staff recommendations. The walls have big pictures of famous authors. In short, a near perfect book store of a type slowly becoming extinct. I had a late lunch at the Longhorn BBQ. The Longhorn apparently was founded by some brothers from Houston, who left in the 1950s for Spokane, eventually finding their way to Seattle. Although the place generally does a better job on the Texas kitsch décor than most out of state places, the BBQ is not authentic or even that good. Like the loyal Englishmen who populated the American colonies, only to turn into rabid anti-English American nationalists within three generations, these guys and their BBQ have turned into pasty, coffee drinking grunge flannel wearers. But it was worth a shot.
Walking to the ballpark is always fun, especially when the park is one of the new (or very old) breed of downtown parks. I passed all kinds of food and shirt vendors. Lots of people were arriving early, as did I, for batting practice. Any good baseball fan knows that the best way to see the game is to get there early for batting practice. The BP crowd looked bigger than some of the Florida Marlins game crowds I’ve seen on TV. I took the opportunity to walk all around the stadium. Safeco reminds me a lot of Minute Maid Park. It looks very similar, and other than the death pole and Mount CenterField, the dimensions are similar. Safeco seems a little bigger. One major difference is Safeco is definitely not a hitter’s park. Balls that would have flown out of Minute Maid die at the Safeco warning track, to all fields. The air inside the park seems heavy (its a 5 minute walk to Elliott Bay from the stadium), and I’m sure that has something to do with it. There was a noticeably high proportion of what appeared to be Japanese fans. I suppose Ichiro has a lot to do with that, but I think the Mariners’ catcher is also Japanese. One really cool part about Safeco is you can go behind both bullpens in left center and watch the pitchers warm up. There was a heavy chain link fence of course, but it was sweet watching both starting pitchers warm up, standing about five feet away. The highlight of batting practice is that while standing in the left field bleachers, one of the on-field cops threw me a batting practice ball that had been hit into the visitors’ bullpen. The players use brand new white balls for warmup and BP. I saw Dan Wheeler shagging flies. How’d that Ty Wiggington trade work out for ya Purpura?
The game itself was really good, a well played 2-1 contest, determined in the bottom of the ninth by a sacrifice fly that scored Ichiro from 3rd for the winning run. Although this is American League ball, I counted at least three bunts. The Mariners catcher threw out two Devil Rays trying to steal. No home runs. In short, it wasn’t one of those 10-8 slugfests I can't stand. The crowd was late arriving and very quiet, given that the M’s are still alive in the wild card. It reminded me of some Astrodome era Astros crowds. Honestly, the stupid scoreboard car chase between innings got more interest than the actual game. I ran into Yankees fan in the restroom, screaming about how the Yankees had come back on the Red Sox that night. Why is it, no matter where I go, I can’t get away from these yay-hoos? The incident reminds me of a Doug Stanhope line-cheering for the Yankees is like going to a casino and cheering for the house. I’ve never understood how as a fan, you can possibly appreciate a bought championship, instead of one that was worked for slowly but surely, year after year. I also noticed something interesting I’ve never seen before-the Mariners’ third baseman (Adrian Beltre) would move behind the pitcher when the first baseman would return the ball after a pickoff throw to first. I’ve never seen any of those Easter Island statues helming 3rd for the Astros do that (excluding Gold Glove winners Doug Rader and Ken Caminiti, of course). But maybe I just never noticed. Three fat kids sat right behind me, nearly ruining my excellent 15th row seats just above third base. Their equally bloated parents did virtually nothing to stop them from screaming the whole game. Its ok to cheer of course, but these kids weren’t particularly cheering. They ate the whole time, and at one point between innings when the scoreboard operator was trying to get people to do the “rally jig” in the home 7th, the fattest of the kids breaks into some sort of sliding motion that looked like Fat Bastard from Austin Powers having a seizure while doing the Electric Boogaloo. Ultimately I moved seats, firming up my conviction that if I ever have kids (which hopefully will still happen), they’re going to think they’re living in the Hanoi Hilton compared to their buddies, who will not be allowed to call after 8 (still love you Walter Ryne). I also noticed that the scoreboard did not show any replays, at all. This is weird. I’ve been in lots of the newer stadiums now, and they all show replays. It showed on-field activity before and after each pitch, but nothing while the ball was in play.
Now on to the DH. DH ball is not real baseball. The very first rule in the official rules of major league baseball is: “Baseball is a game between two teams of nine players each, under direction of a manager, played on an enclosed field in accordance with these rules, under jurisdiction of one or more umpires.” It doesn’t say “two teams of nine players and a designated hitter.” The Mudville Nine, etc. Each player should play the game of baseball, and the game of baseball is played both at the plate and in the field. If you’re not playing in the field, you’re not a baseball player. I have other practical objections. First, it reduces strategy. People cite the strategic decisions on when to remove a pitcher as affected by when he’s coming up in the order, as well as whether to have a double switch. But they usually omit that there’s a strategic aspect from the other side as well, which is that it eliminates the decision on whether to pitch to the eighth place hitter or chance that you’ll get the pitcher out. There’s also the consideration of statistics inflation, with American League pitchers having relatively worse stats because they are facing one more hitter, and also reducing the innings they can pitch each year as a result. Now, this isn’t universally true, but often the DH is some fat toad or broken down old guy who couldn’t possibly play field, and I have no interest in seeing that. Just like football isn’t a weightlifting contest, I don’t like baseball when it turns into home run derby. The main argument in favor of the DH is something along the lines of “its boring to watch a pitcher go up there and whiff every time.” Well, first off, other things in baseball are just as boring. I’ve heard Larry Dierker complain about ground rule doubles often. As long as we’re getting rid of boring stuff, how ‘bout getting rid of intentional walks or repeated throws to first base to hold the runner? And, I’m not sure the premise of that argument is so true that it really proves its conclusion. There’ve always been good-hitting pitchers. Bob Gibson, Don Drysdale, Bob Forsch, Mike Hampton, and Dontrelle Willis immediately come to mind. You can’t tell me that you’re so much better off having .179-hitting Jason Lane at the plate instead of lifetime .207-hitting Jason Jennings. Plus, even if its true, all that proves is that pitchers should spend more time trying to develop their hitting skills, not that you should replace them altogether. Note also that the starting pitchers usually are gone by the 7th, so at most they’re only batting the first couple or three times through the lineup, not when the game is on the line in the 7th, 8th and 9th.
Didn’t do anything after walking back to the hotel.
Tomorrow-Washington vs. Ohio State
After a workout I began slowly making my way over to Safeco Field, at the south edge of downtown, hoping to get there in time for batting practice. To get there, I had to pass through Pioneer Square, one of the oldest areas of the city. Pioneer Square has a lot of red brick buildings and even some brick streets, dating from about the late 1800s. Its proximity to Qwest Stadium and Safeco Field has given rise to numerous pubs, restaurants and sports bars. On a past trip, this is where I took the Seattle Underground tour, showing part of the original city before floods and fire caused the local merchants to build up the downtown elevation (not unlike what Galveston did after the 1900 hurricane). But this time I skip the tour. Still hanging in there is Elliott Bay Books, a huge book store that is actually a book store and where the people who work there actually have read many of the books they’re selling. No fancy couches, CD/DVD sections, toys, yogurt, or gift wrap bins—they just sell books. The shelves and walls are made of unglamorized, undecorated wood. The shelves are replete with staff recommendations. The walls have big pictures of famous authors. In short, a near perfect book store of a type slowly becoming extinct. I had a late lunch at the Longhorn BBQ. The Longhorn apparently was founded by some brothers from Houston, who left in the 1950s for Spokane, eventually finding their way to Seattle. Although the place generally does a better job on the Texas kitsch décor than most out of state places, the BBQ is not authentic or even that good. Like the loyal Englishmen who populated the American colonies, only to turn into rabid anti-English American nationalists within three generations, these guys and their BBQ have turned into pasty, coffee drinking grunge flannel wearers. But it was worth a shot.
Walking to the ballpark is always fun, especially when the park is one of the new (or very old) breed of downtown parks. I passed all kinds of food and shirt vendors. Lots of people were arriving early, as did I, for batting practice. Any good baseball fan knows that the best way to see the game is to get there early for batting practice. The BP crowd looked bigger than some of the Florida Marlins game crowds I’ve seen on TV. I took the opportunity to walk all around the stadium. Safeco reminds me a lot of Minute Maid Park. It looks very similar, and other than the death pole and Mount CenterField, the dimensions are similar. Safeco seems a little bigger. One major difference is Safeco is definitely not a hitter’s park. Balls that would have flown out of Minute Maid die at the Safeco warning track, to all fields. The air inside the park seems heavy (its a 5 minute walk to Elliott Bay from the stadium), and I’m sure that has something to do with it. There was a noticeably high proportion of what appeared to be Japanese fans. I suppose Ichiro has a lot to do with that, but I think the Mariners’ catcher is also Japanese. One really cool part about Safeco is you can go behind both bullpens in left center and watch the pitchers warm up. There was a heavy chain link fence of course, but it was sweet watching both starting pitchers warm up, standing about five feet away. The highlight of batting practice is that while standing in the left field bleachers, one of the on-field cops threw me a batting practice ball that had been hit into the visitors’ bullpen. The players use brand new white balls for warmup and BP. I saw Dan Wheeler shagging flies. How’d that Ty Wiggington trade work out for ya Purpura?
The game itself was really good, a well played 2-1 contest, determined in the bottom of the ninth by a sacrifice fly that scored Ichiro from 3rd for the winning run. Although this is American League ball, I counted at least three bunts. The Mariners catcher threw out two Devil Rays trying to steal. No home runs. In short, it wasn’t one of those 10-8 slugfests I can't stand. The crowd was late arriving and very quiet, given that the M’s are still alive in the wild card. It reminded me of some Astrodome era Astros crowds. Honestly, the stupid scoreboard car chase between innings got more interest than the actual game. I ran into Yankees fan in the restroom, screaming about how the Yankees had come back on the Red Sox that night. Why is it, no matter where I go, I can’t get away from these yay-hoos? The incident reminds me of a Doug Stanhope line-cheering for the Yankees is like going to a casino and cheering for the house. I’ve never understood how as a fan, you can possibly appreciate a bought championship, instead of one that was worked for slowly but surely, year after year. I also noticed something interesting I’ve never seen before-the Mariners’ third baseman (Adrian Beltre) would move behind the pitcher when the first baseman would return the ball after a pickoff throw to first. I’ve never seen any of those Easter Island statues helming 3rd for the Astros do that (excluding Gold Glove winners Doug Rader and Ken Caminiti, of course). But maybe I just never noticed. Three fat kids sat right behind me, nearly ruining my excellent 15th row seats just above third base. Their equally bloated parents did virtually nothing to stop them from screaming the whole game. Its ok to cheer of course, but these kids weren’t particularly cheering. They ate the whole time, and at one point between innings when the scoreboard operator was trying to get people to do the “rally jig” in the home 7th, the fattest of the kids breaks into some sort of sliding motion that looked like Fat Bastard from Austin Powers having a seizure while doing the Electric Boogaloo. Ultimately I moved seats, firming up my conviction that if I ever have kids (which hopefully will still happen), they’re going to think they’re living in the Hanoi Hilton compared to their buddies, who will not be allowed to call after 8 (still love you Walter Ryne). I also noticed that the scoreboard did not show any replays, at all. This is weird. I’ve been in lots of the newer stadiums now, and they all show replays. It showed on-field activity before and after each pitch, but nothing while the ball was in play.
Now on to the DH. DH ball is not real baseball. The very first rule in the official rules of major league baseball is: “Baseball is a game between two teams of nine players each, under direction of a manager, played on an enclosed field in accordance with these rules, under jurisdiction of one or more umpires.” It doesn’t say “two teams of nine players and a designated hitter.” The Mudville Nine, etc. Each player should play the game of baseball, and the game of baseball is played both at the plate and in the field. If you’re not playing in the field, you’re not a baseball player. I have other practical objections. First, it reduces strategy. People cite the strategic decisions on when to remove a pitcher as affected by when he’s coming up in the order, as well as whether to have a double switch. But they usually omit that there’s a strategic aspect from the other side as well, which is that it eliminates the decision on whether to pitch to the eighth place hitter or chance that you’ll get the pitcher out. There’s also the consideration of statistics inflation, with American League pitchers having relatively worse stats because they are facing one more hitter, and also reducing the innings they can pitch each year as a result. Now, this isn’t universally true, but often the DH is some fat toad or broken down old guy who couldn’t possibly play field, and I have no interest in seeing that. Just like football isn’t a weightlifting contest, I don’t like baseball when it turns into home run derby. The main argument in favor of the DH is something along the lines of “its boring to watch a pitcher go up there and whiff every time.” Well, first off, other things in baseball are just as boring. I’ve heard Larry Dierker complain about ground rule doubles often. As long as we’re getting rid of boring stuff, how ‘bout getting rid of intentional walks or repeated throws to first base to hold the runner? And, I’m not sure the premise of that argument is so true that it really proves its conclusion. There’ve always been good-hitting pitchers. Bob Gibson, Don Drysdale, Bob Forsch, Mike Hampton, and Dontrelle Willis immediately come to mind. You can’t tell me that you’re so much better off having .179-hitting Jason Lane at the plate instead of lifetime .207-hitting Jason Jennings. Plus, even if its true, all that proves is that pitchers should spend more time trying to develop their hitting skills, not that you should replace them altogether. Note also that the starting pitchers usually are gone by the 7th, so at most they’re only batting the first couple or three times through the lineup, not when the game is on the line in the 7th, 8th and 9th.
Didn’t do anything after walking back to the hotel.
Tomorrow-Washington vs. Ohio State
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