Saturday night is alright for fighting

It was a simpler time when I was growing up. No, this isn’t to say we walked to school uphill through the snow (both ways) every day or anything like that. In fact, the walk to James Buchanan Elementary School was probably a mile round trip. Sometimes it was longer depending if there were other post-school trips that had to be made. We played a lot of different sports and games back then and the way it goes with kids is that sometimes there are disagreements. When a compromise of an impasse could not be reached logically, well, sometimes we had to throw down. We weren’t tough kids or anything like that and the fisticuffs weren’t a regular occurrence. But when it was time to go, everyone knew how to handle themselves.

The games were stopped, the disagreements were handled, and a conclusion to the problem was reached. Grudges rarely lingered away from the field or court – in fact, as soon as the business was taken care of, we went right back to the game continued from the spot where we left it.

This wasn’t for the backyard games, either. We handled things similarly in little league games, too. One example was in a baseball game in fifth grade when I was drilled square in the back by a pitch from a kid in my neighborhood. This one didn’t get away from him either – the pitcher definitely hit his target, which was the area on my back between my shoulder blades.

I imagine a few words were exchanged on the way to first base, especially since the pitcher “borrowed” my bike earlier in the week and didn’t return it. Needless to say there was some bad blood simmering between the two of us, but who knew it was going to rear its head on the ball diamond?

Everything was cool for a few minutes until I took a short lead off first, looked over toward the mound and sure enough, here came another one high and tight…

Yeah, that’s right, a beanball at the runner on first… in a fifth-grade little league game.

This one got my right arm and dropped straight to my feet. Now it was my turn. I picked up the ball and fired it right back toward the pitcher, but missed wildly. The ball sailed way past third base and past the cinder track that ringed the diamond. But by the time anyone saw where the ball had landed the pitcher threw his glove at me (which I caught) as I ran toward the mound and with the rest of the players from both teams quickly following.

Oh yes, it was on.

Now could anyone imagine anything like that happening now without an arrest or stupid parents getting involved? When all was settled the pitcher and I apologized, shook hands and everything was settled. Yeah, we were kicked out of the game, but that was that. As quickly as it started, it had ended.

Another sport we played throughout my youth was boxing. We had gloves (or pillows) and everything. Tournaments were set up, weight-classes defined, alliances formed and bouts promoted and hyped during school.

Who knows what we would have done if we had video games instead of boxing gloves.

Now what’s the point of these stories? What does it have to do with anything?

Well, nothing. Not really. We were well versed in conflict resolution and had acquired the street smarts to realize when a fight was going to break out. We also knew about boxing, too. It was a sport we understood as well as baseball, basketball or football. We talked about the fights, the fighters and watched matches on television when we could.

Marvin Hagler, Thomas Hearns, Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran, John Mugabi, Barry McGuigan, etc., etc. … We watched them all.

These days… not so much.

Boxing is certainly a niche sport these days and it seems as if it is out-of-date in the technological world. Worse, there are probably two or three fights every year that capture the public’s interest. This is despite the nice relationship the sport has with HBO.

One of those fights was last Saturday night when “pound-for-pound” star Manny Pacquiao fought overhyped Brit Ricky Hatton. There were tons of interesting storylines before this fight which HBO explored in its 24/7 series, but if you blinked, you missed the fight.

It lasted six minutes and most of that was spent with Hatton on the canvass.

But what’s the deal with the fight game these days and can part of boxing’s problems be related to those kids today? Apparently it’s a lot easier to block someone from a Facebook profile than it is for kids to duke it out on the schoolyard.

And who’s to say which way is better?

Start choppin'

It’s a big night in The Lanc with Mike Watt and Dinosaur Jr. rolling into town. Undoubtedly all the scenesters will be there to check out a pair of the genre’s godfathers and legends. Should be a rollicking good time for everyone there and hopefully we will be able to present a full report when we hear from our peeps on the scene. In the interim, it’s back in South Philly for the first game of the Phillies-Mets tonight.

And just like that, the Phillies are the only game in town after the debacle on the basketball court at the Center last night. Having not followed the Sixers all that closely this season, tell me… what is it about Samuel Dalembert that elicits such a violent reaction. People really dislike the way Sammy conducts himself and it’s not just the fans in Philly. Apparently Dwight Howard and Hedo Turkoglu don’t care much for Dalembert’s basketball stylings either.

Could it be that Sammy Dalembert is the Jose Reyes of the NBA… only not an All-Star caliber player, of course. Hey why not – I’ve already labeled the Mets’ David Wright as the Danny Ainge of baseball. As long as we’re doing the cross sports associations, why not lump Sammy in there.

Anyway, the big story in baseball isn’t the Phillies and Mets restarting their blood feud. Far from it.  Instead, it’s the latest revelations from Sports Illustrated scribe Selena Roberts in her upcoming book on Alex Rodriguez.

And no, it ain’t the drug allegations (some a little sketchy) that have folks all worked up. Some baseball players used steroids – we know that already. Major League Baseball knows it and the MLBPA knows it. If they aren’t worked up about whether or not one of the best players of the so-called steroid era was juiced up, why should we take their word on anything?

No, the thing that is most angering is the accusation that A-Rod intentionally tipped pitches to the opposition in lopsided games. Yeah that’s right – Rodriguez reportedly sabotaged his own teammates with the hope that players on other teams would return the favor.

Reaction to the latest bit of A-Rod news is already coming out, especially from former Texas Rangers’ players.

Ex-Phillie Doug Glanville, who played for the Rangers with A-Rod, says if players on the team were aware of the pitch tipping, all hell would have broken loose. As Glanville told SI:

"It would pretty much be Armageddon," he said. "If you found out a teammate was giving a sign to another team that would be pretty ugly. If it is true it would be a serious offense in the culture. That would be the thing where I wonder if players would even want to play with him. Anything like that being true is a really major problem. If I knew about that, people would be confronted real quick. You can be friends with guys [on other teams] but when they're in the other dugout you try and take their head off."

Though MLB has historically turned a blind eye to performance-enhancing drugs, it has acted strongly in regard to gambling and non-drug cheating. Bat corkers and spitballers are dealt with swiftly and harshly, which means Commissioner Bud Selig should investigate this brewing controversy, post haste.

*

Speaking of the commissioner of baseball, people in the know always talk about how when he was one of the owners of the Texas Rangers, ex-President George W. Bush actively campaigned for the commissionership. In fact, some of the former President’s friends think he still wants to be the commissioner of baseball.

According to a story on Slate.com:

"He wanted to be Kenesaw Mountain Landis," America's first baseball commissioner, legendary for his power and dictatorial style. "I would have guessed that when George grew up he would be the commissioner of baseball," says Hannah. "I am still convinced that that is his goal."

One assumes that this close pal of the Republican presidential candidate is speaking with tongue in cheek. But no. "Running for president is a résumé-enhancer for being the commissioner of baseball," he insists. "And it's a whole lot better job."

A couple of things happened to Bush’s campaign to be the commish. One was he was out-maneuvered and out-politicked by Bud Selig. Another strike was Bush’s fellow owners felt he was too much of a “lightweight” and not savvy enough to handle the job better than Selig.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

Meanwhile, another person with big baseball ties could be one of the leading candidates for the soon-to-be vacant Supreme Court chair that David Souter plans to give up at the end of the current session.

According to the punditry, federal judge Sonia Sotomayor could be the one to take over Souter’s seat and as some remember, Judge Sotomayor was the one who ended the last baseball strike.

In 1995 it was Sotomayor who issued the preliminary injunction against Major League Baseball, preventing it from unilaterally implementing a new Collective Bargaining Agreement and using replacement players.

Who knows, maybe when Selig’s contract is up Sotomayor could take over?

Matt Stairs: Hall of Famer

Speaking of Matt Stairs... While sitting here with the kids on a day where I don't have to drive to the ballpark and instead get to watch The Backyardigans and trip over Legos, I did a little Google search of our favorite all-time pinch hitter and came up with a tasty nugget from the great Joe Posnanski...

Guess what? Matt Stairs is the greatest slugging journeyman in Major League history.

During his career Stairs has played for 11 different teams and bashed 256 careeer home runs. Last season Stairs passed another ex-Phillie, Todd Zeile, when he cracked homer No. 254 to give him the most homers amongst players who have played for 10-or-11 teams.

Now here's the interesting part - what if Stairs would have come up in a proper position rather than as a second baseman?

Yeah, that's right... Stairs was a second baseman who swiped bases in the minor-league system for the Expos. Could you imagine Stairs playing second base now?

But what if he had been an outfielder from the jump? None other than Bill James, the godfather of statistical analysis, suggests that Stairs could be winding down a Hall of Fame career:

Look at it. Somebody decided he was a second baseman, he tears through the minor leagues, gets to Montreal, the Expos take one look at him and say, 'He's no second baseman, get real.' He bounces around, goes to Japan, doesn't really get to play until he's almost 30, then hits 38 homers, slips into a part-time role and hits 15-20 homers every year for 10 years in about 250 at-bats a season. ... You put him in the right park, right position early in his career ... he's going to hit a LOT of bombs.

Moreover, James also dug up this:

Stairs's career numbers are essentially the same as Reggie Jackson's (.262, .356, .490). All of his numbers trump those of Roger Maris. Other players with comparable numbers include Bobby Bonds, Frank Howard, Dwight Evans, Dale Murphy and Greg Luzinski. Nobody confuses those ballplayers with the ordinary.

Matt Stairs in the Hall of Fame? Maybe it could have happened.

Oh, it's the Mets

Here come the Mets. Or should that be, HERE COME THE METS!

Certainly the last one seems to be the sentiment of folks from New York City. In fact, it's trickled down this way that the Mets' fans are so fired up that the TV station carrying the game took out special ads featuring Cole Hamels calling the New York team, "choke artists."

Apparently the truth doesn't always set some folks free.

Though the Mets' players have been quite chatty lately in regards to the Phillies, the Phillies didn't seem so geeked up about playing the Mets. Of course the clubhouse was virtually bare of ballplayers after the loss to the Nationals last night, but the guys who were around just kind of shrugged off the prospect of the bug weekend series against their arch-nemesis.

"I think you guys have more fun with it than we do," Canadian Matt Stairs said.

Stairs, of course, is a reasonable man. He rarely flies off the handle unless he's talking about post-homer celebrations in the NLCS or hockey. Otherwise, Stairs is as cool as can be.

But on the other hand, Stairs has only faced the Mets once as a member of the Phillies going 1-for-2 with an RBI (no, it wasn't a homer) in a doubleheader last Sept. 7. So maybe he's not the best guy to weigh in on the topic.

"I'm not going to approach the Mets any different than Washington or San Diego or whoever it is," he said. "The crowd is going to be into it and have fun with it."

But guess what? Stairs' sentiment is pretty much the norm in the Phillies' clubhouse. Mets? Yeah, big deal.

So since there wasn't much interest in the Mets' arrival at the Bank this weekend - or the Phillies' first trip to Bailout Ballpark next week, I thought I'd just trot out something I wrote last January.

Call it a virtual rain delay.

Here it is:

Trading places

A friend from New York City called the other day with an intriguing question. Now before I get into the actual question, it's worth mentioning that the friend has spent the past two decades working in the sports media, including the past three covering the New York Mets.

Yes, those New York Mets.

So for the past three years this friend of mine watched from the inside as the Mets choked in a seven-game series to the Cardinals in the NLCS in 2006, choked during September with a 6½ game lead and less than three weeks to go in '07, before pulling the trifecta in '08 by choking a 3½ game lead during late September.

Needless to say, my friend has seen that the Heimlich doesn't always work on a baseball team. No, these have not been happy times for the Mets, especially considering which team went on to win the World Series last October.

Those elements make the question so much more interesting.

"Tell me," he said. "Are Phillies' fans as obsessed with the Mets as the Mets' fans are with the Phillies?"

See, it was a really good question. It was such a great question that there really wasn't any way to answer it. After all, does gloating count as interest? Does finally feeling like the vindicated underdog constitute as interest?

Is it fair to answer a question with another question or is that just some sort of a trick?

C'mon, man... what's with all the questions?

But for lack of anything better to say, I answered, "Yes." Albeit hesitantly. A very unsure yes like I was trying to convince myself of my answer as I was giving it. Kind of like when you visit someone's house for dinner and they say, "Hey, would you like a second helping of Brussels sprouts?"

Uh, yes? Please...

Anyway, I couldn't convince myself if Phillies' fans are obsessed with the Mets. Oh sure, fans of the local nine really, really despise the Mets. Probably in much the same matter as they dislike the Dallas Cowboys. But, more importantly, unlike those Dallas Cowboys fans, the New Yorkers are thinking about the Phillies. They're losing sleep, tossing and turning with angst over Cole Hamels' nasty changeup, Brad Lidge closing out the ninth and a batting order with Jimmy Rollins, Chase Utley and Ryan Howard.

Yes, how's that for changing times... New York is worried about Philadelphia.

For so long it was always the other way around. Whenever the Mets turned up to wreak havoc on our friendly little hamlet, they always brought a cavalcade of weirdos. Yes, there was Darryl Strawberry and Dwight Gooden in the 1980s, and then Mike Piazza during the last decade. There was even a few that traded places like Lenny Dykstra and Roger McDowell joining up with the Phillies while Billy Wagner took the long money for three years of falling short.

They had Tug McGraw, but we kept him. He's ours.

Do the Phillies get to the playoffs in '07 and then win the World Series in '08 with Wagner instead of Lidge? Let's just say the Phillies got the better deal with Wagner going to the Mets.

Still, when the Mets came to visit, they emptied out the outer boroughs and caravanned down the Turnpike. In most years, the New York faithful outnumbered the Phillies' fans, which was really, really annoying. No, it wasn't annoying because Mets' fans out-numbered the hometowners. That's fine. After all, the locals knew that Matt Beech and Gregg Jefferies weren't getting it done. Actually it was annoying because the New Yorkers were hardly good guests. They came early, stayed late, made themselves a little too comfortable and generated way too much noise.

They acted like they owned the place, but in some sense they did.

So the very idea that a New York dude who has an affiliation with Mets asks if the Phillies are as "obsessed" with their team as the New Yorkers are over the Champs, well, that can only make a Philadelphian smile a little bit. Yep, for a change they're thinking about us...

How sweet is that?

Just think how good it is to be a fan of the Phillies these days... go ahead think about it. First, the most bitterest rival is actually jealous of a Philadelphia team. When does that ever happen? Secondly, the Phillies built their new stadium and funded it properly at just the right time. Look at the Mets - they're going into their new park named for a bank that pulled a choke job worse than anything their owners pulled in any September.

Shoot, the new CitiField ought to be called Taxpayer Ballpark. Better yet, it ought to be repossessed and given back to the hard-working folks in Flushing, Queens.

But to paraphrase W.C. Fields' epitaph: "Here lies the New York Mets. Wouldn't they rather be living in Philadelphia..."

Hittin' weather

Crazy day at the old ballyard yesterday. So crazy that I had four different stories written during the game based on the outcome only to scrap them all when Raul Ibanez smacked his grand slam and when we learned Brad Lidge had an MRI, a cortisone shot AND was taking anti-inflammatory medication. So yeah, crazy day at the ol' ballpark.

"Good ol' slugfest," Charlie Manuel said.

Charlie calls these early hot days "hittin' weather." He's certainly right about that considering the ball seems to travel a little bit longer when the winds are calm and the temperatures higher at Citizens Bank Park. Ibanez says he noticed the ball carrying well during batting practice earlier on Monday afternoon. But even Ibanez or Manuel would have had difficulty predicting the long shots belted by the Nationals and Phillies.

Not only did two shots clear the center field fence and strike the batter's eye (Ryan Zimmerman and Ryan Howard), but the Nats clubbed two upper deck shots - one to left by Zimmerman and one to right by Nick Johnson - and blasted one onto Ashburn Alley by Elijah Dukes.

Clearly the Nats gained more yards in the air than the Washington football team did all of last season.

Though the Phillies offense seems to be clicking after the two losses to the Brewers late last week and the first part of the Marlins games, Manuel is clearly concerned about the team's pitching. The staff's ERA is far and away the worst in the National League and only the Rangers and Yankees have a worse mark in the Majors.

"Looks to me like they are leaving pitches out over the good part of the plate," Manuel said when asked about his staff's troubles.

And by good he meant from a hitter's perspective.

At this point it seems as if the manager has little flexibility in regard to his staff. J.C. Romero is still serving his suspension (he has 32 games to go), Lidge might have a DL stint coming and the starters aren't giving the relievers too many breaks. So far the Phillies are fifth in the league for innings by relievers and 14^th in innings pitched by starters.

Unlike with hitters, Manuel can't sit pitchers when they struggle. In fact, it might be the exact opposite - if a pitcher is struggling the manager might opt to get him more work.

You know, depending on the circumstance.

Surely the pitching will be a topic to rear its head again soon...

* Not messing around... Speaking of J.C. Romero, the suspended reliever is not messing around with his law suit against the makers of the supplement 6-OXO Extreme as well as the retailers that sell the product. How so? Consider that he has Howard Jacobs as one of his attorneys.

Yes, that Howard Jacobs.

For anyone who follows cycling, track or doping cases, Howard Jacobs is the go-to name in law. It seems as if he has represented everyone from Tyler Hamilton to Floyd Landis to Marian Jones. If there is one lawyer who knows about the ins and outs of doping tests and drugs in sports, it's Jacobs.

Better yet, Jacobs was a competitive triathlete so he understands all of the aspects of doping and athlete's rights.

The presence of Jacobs on Romero's legal team as well as thoughts from several attorneys weighing in on the case indicates that the pitcher has a strong case.

Still, one lawyer said if the supplement company advertised its product as something that complies with the MLB testing regimen, then yeah, Romero has a case. Otherwise, he might be losing even more cash.

The blame game

It wasn't all that long ago that Tyler Hamilton was expected to be the next big name in American professional cycling. It wasn't one of those passing-the-torch deals either with Lance Armstrong completing his run and then giving way to Hamilton. Oh no. Hamilton was supposed to be one of those guys who could have challenged Armstrong. Hamilton could have taken it all away.

But things have a weird way of working out sometimes. Armstrong won seven straight titles at the Tour de France reasonably easily. Hamilton certainly had a hand in some of those victories, first as Lance's top lieutenant for the U.S. Postal teams in the early part of the decade and then as a star-crossed/accident-prone rider for Phonak and finally as a suspended drug cheat.

Yes, sometimes folks take different paths and often the short cut is nothing more than a misnomer.

Certainly the first drug suspension for Hamilton is up for debate even if some of the arguments sound preposterous. Don't let anyone tell you that the anti-doping agencies are as pure as they pretend to be. After all, there's money in the medicine, not the cure, to use a popular phrase.

Nevertheless, in his latest comeback while riding on the domestic scene with Rock Racing, Hamilton tested positive for DHEA, which is an ingredient in some vitamin supplements used to treat depression. Certainly if Hamilton wanted to fight the performance-enhancing properties of an anti-depressant, he likely would have found a sympathetic audience.

But that's not what Hamilton did. Instead, he said that he not only took the supplement with DHEA, but knew it was banned and still did it. In the aftermath, Hamilton didn't win any races nor lead his team to big victories. He simply revealed what he had done.

Then he retired.

No fuss, no muss, no fight. One has to wonder if Hamilton didn't intentionally sabotage himself.

Meanwhile, J.C. Romero of the Phillies also drew a suspension for taking an over-the-counter supplement called 6-OXO Extreme. He tested positive, went through the arbitration and appeals process and lost. That meant 50 games right off the top of the 2009 season for Romero, though he pitched for the team after taking the supplement.

Here's the thing - the makers of 6-OXO Extreme (the same guy who invented drugs for BALCO) labeled the product as legal, which obviously it is. However, after some very rudimentary research it was clear that the supplement raised testosterone levels. I'm no scientist or doctor, but that sounds like a steroid...

Anyway, here's one published report on the effects of 6-OXO:

Also, after a steroid cycle, the compound may be used to shorten the recovery from the testicular suppression that can be the result of the use of steroids.

A recent United States patent application claims an 88% increase in plasma testosterone levels in men, while decreasing estrogen levels by 11%. The subjects took 300mg orally twice a day for four weeks without taking any other drugs or supplements.

Baylor University conducted an eight-week study to determine the effects of 300 mg or 600 mg of 6-OXO in resistance-trained males. Compared to baseline, free testosterone increased by 90% for 300 mg group and 84% for 600 mg group, respectively. Also dihydrotestosterone and the ratio of free testosterone to estradiol increased significantly. This study did not utilize a control group and was funded in part by two producers of commercial 4-AT.

In a warning letter dated July 7, 2006, the FDA argues that marketing of 4-AT (aka, 6-OXO) violates the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act and as such products containing it are adulterated by legal definition.

On June 18, 2008, Health Canada issued a warning that 4-AT and 6-OXO had a health risk related to blood clotting and recommended all users immediately cease use.

Certainly Romero admitted his mistake and apologized. He also took responsibility for using the product though he likely received some bad advice. Shoot, he's a really nice guy who is always ready to answer a question or provide some insight. Plus, Romero's story has remained consistent. He made a (honest) mistake and is paying for it very much like Hamilton. After all, athletes are responsible for what they have in their bodies.

But unlike Hamilton, Romero has filed a suit against the makers of 6-OXO Extreme (as well as the Vitamin Shoppe where he says he bought the supplement) claiming they did not properly label the product to reveal it contained androstenedione.

"Testing positive and being suspended from baseball was one of the most painful experiences in my life and robbed me of the joy of winning the World Series and damaged my reputation in the process," Romero said in a statement. "I purchased an over-the-counter supplement that I was told and believed would not cause me to test positive. These events have hurt me deeply and placed a cloud over my career, accomplishments and family. It is my hope that I can finally start to put this event behind me and protect the interests of others who rely on manufacturers and retailers to be honest about their products. I look forward to rejoining the Phillies and my teammates at the end of my suspension."

So did Romero really know what he was taking? Who knows? But in one sense it kind of seems like one of those cases where someone sues McDonald's because the cheeseburgers caused weight gain.

Maybe Romero didn't know, but that's his fault.

No one goes there anymore... it's too crowded

Perhaps the biggest story of the early part of the baseball season has not been the home runs or the pitching or anything happening on the field. For a change there hasn't really been all that much talk about MLB's drug and alcohol problems or the crazy contracts some players got from a few clubs. And to think, Manny Ramirez and CC Sabathia didn't even have to wear a mask or play the Powerball to get all that cash. Good for them.

No, aside from the tragedy of Nick Adenhart and the deaths of Harry Kalas and Mark Fidrych, the biggest story this season has been all about the new ballparks in New York City.

As if it could be anything else.

Clearly there is the New-York-as-the-center-of-the-universe silliness at the forefront. After all, when something happens in New York it's as if it never happened anywhere else. That's the way they think - never mind that every team that was ever going to build a new ballpark had already done so, how can it be possible that Pittsburgh has a nicer ballpark than the two New York teams.

Apparently that's the case. Not only are there a cavalcade of stories out that the Mets' Bailout Ballpark and the Yankee Tribute to Avarice and Greed Stadium are, well... underwhelming, but the fans aren't turning out either.

Who builds a $1.5 billion stadium in the South Bronx anyway? The poorest Congressional district in the country has the most expensive ballpark ever built... funny how that works.

It's also kind of funny to see all those empty seats behind the dugouts in the new joint, too. The really funny part is all those smart guys running things for the Yankees didn't get that a lot of folks don't want to pay $295- to $2,625 for one baseball game. Really... what were they thinking? They still play 162 games per season, right? They're on TV and everything, too...

"I'm sure they're thinking, 'It's just April,' " Jon Greenberg, executive editor of the Team Marketing Report, told The New York Times about the lack of sellouts. "But it's lost revenue they anticipated getting. This is the worst possible time to debut a stadium."

Yeah, that's where the arrogance part enters the picture. Despite the fact that nearly every business is tightening their belts, the Yankees still had the belief that they were immune to the global economic crisis. You know, because if a family has $2,625 burning a hole in its pocket, the thing they need to spend it on is one ticket to a Tuesday night game at the new Yankee Stadium against the Kansas City Royals.

Otherwise, the reviews indicate the new ballpark is pretty nice. It might not be $1.5 billion nice, but nice nonetheless. In fact, one person who has been to the new parks says the Mets' park might be nicer, but neither is as good as Camden Yards, the park in Pittsburgh or San Francisco, which sounds a bit sacrilegious.

Heck, CBP in South Philly has its charms like two big highways filtering down to the complex as well as plenty of parking. There's even public transportation nearby. Who doesn't love the Broad Street Line?

The Yankees aren't the only New York team struggling to get people to the park. Even the NL East contending Mets are drawing just 37,740 per game, which is 89.9 percent of the capacity at the new ToxicAssets Park. There are more variables at work here, too. One is that it costs 60 percent more to buy food and other extra items not included in the price of the ticket at the Mets' new park.

But the most interesting part is that the Yankees and Mets appear to be operating like the airline industry. Here's what the Times wrote:

But the slow start in New York is striking considering how much the teams here spent to build and promote their parks. Like airlines that break even on economy tickets and rely on first-class travelers to turn a profit, the teams need to sell their most exclusive seats to help repay the hundreds of millions of dollars of tax-free bonds they issued to finance their new parks.

The unfilled seats in New York are even more glaring compared with how robust sales have been for previous stadium openings. The Baltimore Orioles sold out 67 of their 80 home dates in 1992, when Camden Yards opened. The Cleveland Indians sold out 36 games in the strike-shortened season in 1994, and were filled to capacity 455 consecutive games from 1995 to 2001.

After moving to their new park in 2001, the Houston Astros drew 3.1 million fans, 300,000 more than they ever attracted at the far larger Astrodome. The Pittsburgh Pirates, a perennial second-division team, sold 2.4 million tickets in 2001 when PNC Park opened, 700,000 more than they ever sold at Three Rivers Stadium.

The answer for the Yankees? Yeah, that's right... they're going to raise ticket prices by 4 percent.

The most interesting part about the Mets and Yanks struggling to draw fans to their pricey castles to themselves is that the early leaders in attendance are a pair of teams that have no intention on building a new ballpark...

Ever.

The leaders:

1.)    Red Sox 101.6 percent of capacity

2.)    Phillies 96.9 percent

3.)    Cubs 96.3 percent

4.)    Angels 92.7 percent

Wrigley and Fenway aren't going anywhere, and CBP clearly is just digging in. Maybe the answer isn't so much as building a new ballpark as it is fielding a good team with reasonable prices?

Anyway, check out the story on how the Red Sox make do with tiny and out-dated Fenway... can't manufacture history.

The Dude abides?

As regular readers of this little dog-and-pony show know, the ex-Phillie Lenny Dykstra is a favorite topic. Part sitcom, mixed with street philosopher and combined with a burning school bus off to the side of the road, Dykstra never disappoints. Nearly everything he does is entertaining in that watching-a-burning-bus-on-the-side-of-the-road kind of way. The Dude would be full of surprises if he wasn't so full of surprises.

Even when he's doing something ordinary, like the time he was talking to the ball scribes at the Vet during one of the Phillies' many reunion weekends a handful of years ago, Lenny brings it. I remember him holding court and telling us how he dealt with the years of injuries that have wrecked havoc on his body, though when asked if he needed special treatment to take care of his ailing back, Lenny said, "No, I'm not a [bleep]."

We'll allow you to use your imagination there.

Anyway, lately Dykstra pops up in the media from time to time for one silly story/controversy or another that is directly related to his avarice, tactlessness, boorishness and simple bad form. In the decay of Western Civilization, Dykstra is right there in the warhead. He's bunking up in the same development as those swell citizens like Bernie Madoff or at AIG, though his stomping grounds are a little more low rent.

Like we said, he's a laugh a minute.

Nevertheless, Dykstra first came into the post-baseball spotlight when he was heralded by former hedge-fund manager turned CNBC maven, Jim Cramer, as an investing savant. With Cramer pimping him, Dykstra's star rose to big prominence thanks to fawning pieces on HBO's Real Sports and even The New Yorker (yes, The New Yorker) that not only talked about his supposed investing acumen, but also his latest venture, The Players Club, which is a magazine for professional athletes only that allegedly teaches them how to properly invest their millions so they don't squander it away when the crowds stop cheering.

You know, really altruistic stuff.

Only Real Sports and The New Yorker (and others, like the Philly Daily News) bought Dykstra's version of things hook, line and sinker. There was no real examination of his finances and the reporters didn't check the public record for things like liens on his home, businesses or whatever else.

For some reason Lenny Dykstra was beyond reproach to some seasoned reporters. You know, the same Lenny Dykstra that was named in The Mitchell Report, placed on probation by Major League Baseball for gambling in high-stakes card games, and crashed his car into a tree while driving home from Smokey Joe's and John Kruk's bachelor party with Darren Daulton riding shotgun.

You know, solid citizen stuff.

So while Lenny was allowed to brag, unchecked, about his $17 million house purchased from Wayne Gretzky, as well as anything else that can quell his Napoleonic complex, some people did hold Dykstra accountable. And now a whole bunch of them are suing.

In the most recent feature documenting the financial exploits of Lenny Dykstra, ESPN.com details those currently after the former Phillie centerfielder for unpaid debts -- from firms to friends to family.

It's a helluva read.

Yet at the same time it's all a little sad to see how it's winding down for Dykstra who was a tremendous ballplayer (when he was healthy) and, for a season, one of the finest Phillies ever. However, the tales more than mirrors Dykstra's style as a player that was, needless to say, all about him and "look at me." Oh sure, Dykstra wanted to win and all of that. But given a choice between running into a fence and injuring himself or remaining healthy and on the field, Dykstra always went for the short-term glory.

And based on the Mike Fish story on ESPN.com, it sounds like he could have used his own advice.

Taking it easy

The nice thing about ballplayers is they all get on the same page. They are consistent. They have a staple of tried-and-true clichés that they like to trot out in certain situations and they work. It's reasonable. Smart. Sometimes there is just nothing to say or anything to talk about.

After last night's loss to the Milwaukee Brewers, Shane Victorino rolled through the clubhouse on his way to the shower/training room/dining room when some media types asked him if they could ask him a few questions. But without breaking stride and offering just a short glance over his shoulder, Victorino gave the press the Heisman.

"I didn't do bleep," he said.

Uh, yeah... that's the point.

Nevertheless, the main problem for the 6-7 Phillies appears to have universal acceptance. It's history. The Phillies are notorious for their poor Aprils so why should it be any different this year? The problem this April is that the team just can't find its mojo. Every time they get going it rains, or there is a day off, or another ceremony. It makes it even more difficult for a team that finds comfort in the mundane and routine like the Phillies.

They are "rhythmatic."

But really - who complains about too many days off? Sure, the part about not being able to find a rhythm is understandable, but days off... really? In baseball? It's a long season as it is and the Phillies have 149 games and six months left to play, which means they better enjoy those off days now. Come September they might even be begging for a day off just to be able to set up the pitching rotation properly.

Hell, it won't take long for those off days to be few and far between. Starting today the Phillies play 17 games in 18 days with 10 of them at home and two in New York. If there was ever a time to start racking up some wins, it's now.

Better yet, the Phillies play 19 of their first 31 games at home. Wait until they get out on the road late in the season without off days or even the threat of rain on the horizon. Maybe then they'll remember April and the opportunity they had.

*

This morning the train station was crowded with high school track teams making the way to Franklin Field for the first day of The Penn Relays. Today's action is mostly high school races before giving way to the traditional "distance night" when the some pretty good local runners will duke it out on the famous track.

But if you're looking for the big-time names at this year's relays, forget it - this is the year after the Olympics which sometimes means the big-timers lay low for a bit.

Still, the Penn Relays might be the best spectator sport festival in the city. It's very difficult not to get swept up in all the action so if you haven't been to Franklin Field to watch the races yet, get there. It's definitely one of those things every Philadelphian should see at least once.

*

Last night the windows in the press box were closed down after the first inning as the wind and rain took over the region. Hey, it got cold... why should we be comfortable? This isn't 1865... we have electricity and indoor plumbing.

Nevertheless, when the windows began closing a few fans sitting in the proximity of the press box began heckling members of the local sporting press for being "wimps" or worse.

Can you believe it? Heckling the sensitive and delicate press corps?

How rude!

However, this morning I was alerted to the fact that a certain Phillies broadcaster also resorted to name-calling and tongue-clucking when the windows came down. That's his right, I suppose. Still, it seems a bit hypocritical that the same broadcaster came to sit in the warmth of the press box when he was neither on radio nor TV.

The nerve of that guy...

Hitting The Wall

The Tour of California reported huge audiences both on television and along the course during its third annual race held last February. Part of that had to do with seven-time Tour de France champ Lance Armstrong riding with the big guns from Astana as well as a large contingent of the best riders in the world. Levi Leipheimer won the race for the third year in a row and Floyd Landis made his return to sanctioned racing after his two-year ban. So needless to say, there was a lot to entice Californians to go out to watch as well as the rest of us to tune in.

Meanwhile, with Armstrong as the catalyst, cycling events in Europe (and the U.S.) have received heightened media exposure. That was especially the case when Armstrong wrecked and busted up his clavicle in a race in Spain. The pictures of the surgically repaired bone - complete with the screws holding it in place - were a hit on the Internets.

But the thing with cycling is that it ain't cheap. It costs a lot of money to get the equipment, and we aren't even talking about the bikes. Those helmets and riding kits can turn a great sport into a very expensive hobby.

Now imagine how much it costs to fund a team and put on races... that ain't cheap either. And despite a renewed interest in the sport and the fact that audiences are rolling in at greater numbers, things don't look so good for the domestic races.

That's especially the case here in Philadelphia, too. In fact, it seems very likely that an annual party along the Art Museum and Manayunk could be in jeopardy this June.

So much for Landis making his pro comeback to his home state?

According to reports, the annual TD Bank Philadelphia Cycling Championship, is on the verge of being cancelled for financial reasons. A story in The Inquirer reported that race organizers need to raise $500,000 by Monday or they will cancel the 2009 version of the race.

That could mean no party at the Manayunk Wall this June.

Actually, that's money used simply to put on the race. It does not include travel to Philadelphia, accommodations, prize fees, etc. Just like in baseball, football and every other team sport, cycling teams roll deep. In addition to the riders and the coaches, there are mechanics, drivers, doctors and a whole team infrastructure that will need to eat and sleep with the rest of the team.

Again, it ain't cheap.

As a result, the Pro Cycling Tour in the U.S. has canceled races in Allentown and Reading, which in past years served as the appetizer for the main course in Philly, which was (and is) the premier single-day race in the country and serves as the national championship.

In past years Lancaster also hosted a tour event, but passed up the event because (some) residents complained about the traffic the race caused, further exemplifying the residents' lameness.

Pretty much anyone who is anyone in top-level cycling - from Lance to Landis to Hincappie and beyond - has raced in Philly, Lancaster, Allentown or Reading. The best of the best of zoomed around our streets and now it might be coming to an end.

Here's the thing about the Philly race - it's a money maker. According to the Inquirer story, citing race organizers, the event brought an estimated $15 million to $20 million in revenue to the city. In tough economic times like these, that's nothing to sneeze at.

But because the city is so cash strapped, Mayor Michael Nutter has instituted a policy of charging events for cleanup, the police and other necessary elements of putting on a huge event. Plus, the race lost two big cycling sponsors (CSC and Rock Racing) that has put it in a position to find $500,000...

By Monday.

So it seems as if city businesses could lose a potential $15-20 million (probably less in these lean times) over $500,000... tough times indeed.

Rainy days and Mondays

Just sitting here waiting for the Phillies game to be called, though it appears as if they might wait for a long time despite the fact that the radar shows nothing but a huge mass of green covering the Eastern Seaboard. Frankly folks, I’m against this invasion of our region of our country.

Nevertheless, chances are they will wait before calling the game because the San Diego Padres do not return to Philadelphia after Monday’s game. Finding a date in which to force the Padres back to Philly for one game will take some work.

So that’s why they’ll wait despite that green mass covering the map.

But remember back when they used to show the team’s yearly highlight films during rain delays? Sometimes they were better than the game itself and they definitely made the rain delay much more enjoyable.

These days though, they have shows to serve as filler, or viewers can just get up and go do something else during a delay. Back then we had the game and the highlight tape and that was it. Things might not have been better then, but we didn’t know – we liked anyway.

Speaking of rain delay highlights, how about that shot from Andre Iguodala last night? Crazy huh? At least the response to it on my mobile device was crazy. While walking to 30th Street Station for the ride home, the messages rolled in right on top of each other expressing amazement that Iguodala could make that shot and that the Sixers could rally from 18-points down.

I’m sure Marc Zumoff and Tom McGinness probably sounded a bit excited, though the guy doing the highlight below might have been brought in just for the taping:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-XK_goEKYpQ&hl=en&fs=1]

* Elsewhere, there was a pretty stellar Boston Marathon with two Americans finishing on the podium. Firstly, Ryan Hall closed hard, but finished in third place with a 2:09:41 clocking. For a first time run at Boston, that’s not bad.

Hall, 26, has run 2:06:17 in London, which is the fastest marathon time ever by a man born on U.S. soil. He also owns the American record in the half-marathon (59:43 in Houston) and clobbered the field in the U.S. Olympic Trials Marathon in November of 2007.

It’s not unreasonable to think that Hall could actually win one of the Marathon Majors (Boston, New York, Chicago, London, Berlin) in the very near future.

On the women’s side, 45-year old naturalized American Colleen De Reuck paced the pack through the early part of the race with Kara Goucher, who is off to a pretty good start to her marathon career.

After finishing ninth and 10th at the Beijing Olympics in the 10,000-meters and 5,000-meters, Goucher, 30, made the jump to the marathon where she ran an eye-popping 2:25:53 for third place in last November’s New York City Marathon. For an encore, she damn-near won the Boston Marathon.

Goucher ran with winner Deriba Merga of Ethiopia and Salina Kosgei of Kenya past Kenmore Square and actually had the lead with a half-mile to go. But down Boyleston Street, Merga and Kosgei kicked away with the Ethiopian winning by a stride in the closest finish ever.

Goucher was nine seconds back in 2:32:25.

It will be interesting to see if Hall and Goucher go back to Boston in 2010. If so, I’m going after them… OK, maybe not, but we’re going to go after something.

* Oh yeah, game called... the Phillies will return to action on Tuesday night - weather permitting.

22 years ago today...

... Mike Schmidt hit a three-run home run in the ninth inning in Pittsburgh off Don Robinson. That was the 500th home run of Schmidt's career and it looked and sounded like this: [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7X-vzP3pA4&hl=en&fs=1]

Needless to say, Mike Schmidt and Harry Kalas will be linked together forever.

Hitting the soft 14

WASHINGTON - Last night I watched the movie Casino, the Martin Scorsese epic with Robert DeNiro, Joe Pesci and, of course, Mr. Warmth himself, Don Rickles. Actually, the movie was on while I was doing a bunch of other things like reading, editing, you know, that kind of stuff. It was Wednesday night and there was no baseball happening here in D.C. so I was kind of on my own. What? Was I going to watch hockey?

Not unless Keith Jones is playing.

Anyway, Casino was on providing perfect background noise until that scene where Pesci, "half in the bag," as Rickles described him, showed up at the Tangiers looking for  $50,000 marker at the Blackjack table. Things got ugly not when Pesci asked for the cash, but when the dealers kept turning over picture cards one after the other when all that did was leave him busted.

As most folks remember, Pesci kept picking up the kings, queens and jacks off the felt and threw them back at the dealer with the message that the poor schlub working at the table could take it and do something that would be illegal in most Midwestern states.

Actually, what Pesci was doing probably was just enough to get a guy banned from the Greektown casinos in Detroit. At least that's the way it seems based on the latest incident involving Allen Iverson in his soon-to-be ex-hometown. Apparently Iverson hasn't had much luck at the tables and has been taking it out on the poor schlubs working the tables.

According to reports, Iverson has been banned from two Detroit casinos for "boorish behavior." Counter reports indicate that no such ban has occurred, though this winning quote from the Detroit News.

"He is a bad loser, and he loses a lot, often throwing his chips or cards at dealers," Pistons beat writer Chris McCosky reported on his blog. "He is often loud and disruptive, according to witnesses, rude to dealers, other players and the wait staff."

It was also reported that police had to be called when Iverson's bodyguard got into a fight at a casino and that NBA security was investigating incidents at other casinos.

Oh, but there is more...

According to The Philadelphia Inquirer, Iverson caused a disturbance at a casino outside Minneapolis earlier this season and had a long history in Atlantic City while he was with the 76ers.

For instance, in December 2005, Iverson got into an argument with a dealer at the Trump Taj Mahal casino after the dealer overpaid him $10,000 initially refused to give the chips back.

Then, in February 2004, the paper says Iverson urinated into a trashcan at Bally's on the casino floor.

Yeah...

And we're talking about practice?

So when they say life imitates art (or vice versa), apparently that really is the case. Besides, it's a good thing he's not throwing the dice, because we'd hate to hear what happens if Iverson takes a beating trying to hit the hard eight.

As it turned out, Pesci didn't fare too well at the end of the movie... maybe the same kind of ending is coming for Iverson's basketball career.

'He really was a delightful guy...'

It's been ridiculously difficult to stop reading all the tributes, memories and stories. It also seems as if it's impossible for people to stop writing them. E-mails and message board posts are flooding in from everywhere. Everyone had a moving reaction, which really might be the greatest legacy ever.

There are rarely two opinions that are alike when it comes to sports, but even the most jaded sports fan has to agree that Harry Kalas was pretty great. The remarkable part was that Harry loved the fans just as much as they loved him.

And so the tributes and remembrances pour in and chances are they will never stop. Makeshift shrines have been set up at the ballpark, stories come like a deluge from a flood, as smiles and tears intersect in a crazy convergence of emotion.

After all, in the end we're all only as good as the way we treated our friends. Since Harry Kalas was friends to everyone, well, the tributes are fitting.

"We knew it was an incredible relationship that Dad always had with the fans," his son Todd Kalas said on Tuesday. "When I first walked up, and I see the fan tribute on the corner there [at the Mike Schmidt statue at the front of the ballpark] - that that was tough. I kind of lost it. I couldn't look at it."

Certainly that sentiment can be applied to Phillies games. Really, who can remember a Phillies game without Harry Kalas. It's never existed in my lifetime. So maybe it's a fitting tribute that for the first half inning of Friday's game there will be no commentary on television.

Moreover, the tributes from far away from Philadelphia are the most interesting. For instance Leonard Shapiro of The Washington Post, a city with pretty much no real pro sports history (even the Redskins were not originally established in the city), wrote about Harry even though he admitted that he never knew the man or heard him call a Phillies game.

Even folks who didn't spend a long time in the city got it. Boston guy Paul Flannery, who worked for a while at the Delco Times (and would have been a helluva baseball writer), offered something for the folks in Boston on WEEI's web site. Again, Paul wasn't in Philly for long, but he was here long enough to know what we all knew.

Finally, the most accurate tribute comes from an LA guy and the dean of sports broadcasters (maybe even the greatest broadcaster ever), Vin Scully. Ol' Vin started calling Dodgers games in 1954 when they were still in Brooklyn, so he's seen a thing or two in his day.

Before Monday's home opener in Los Angeles, Scully took the time to talk to reporters about HK:

"He had World Series rings, a Hall of Fame announcer, but he was a wonderful guy. Everybody loved Harry. I would think, of all the people in baseball to grieve, I might guess that Mike Schmidt, the Hall of Fame third baseman (would the most). I know how much he admired Harry and I know how much Harry thought of him. I think Mike, along with many other people (will be mourning). And I'm sure the city of Philadelphia has been just decimated, because they did love him completely."

But more importantly:

"Above all, yeah, he was a wonderful talent, but he really was a delightful guy. First and foremost."

There are thousands more and likely thousands more to come. And just like with Harry calling a ballgame, we probably won't be able to pull ourselves away.

The Bird was The Word

It's an odd coincidence that two of baseball's greatest characters - Harry Kalas and Mark Fidrych - died on the same day. Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be in some sense... who knows. Maybe people better versed in spirituality, religion, science or whatever else can explain it. Needless to say, Mark Fidrych's death kind of got lost in the shuffle here. When an icon dies - the pope of Philadelphia for a lack of better description - everything else kind of takes a backseat.

Besides, Mark Fidrych was a shooting star in the night in baseball. He was here for a moment - bright, shiny, beautiful and majestic - and gone. Snap... just like that. Fidrych owned baseball in 1976. He was the best pitcher in the game, started the All-Star Game for the American League at The Vet, won 19 games and then tore up his rotator cuff in 1977.

The thing about that was Fidrych had the gall to rip up his shoulder before the proliferation of arthroscopic surgeries. Undoubtedly the injuries that ended careers like Fidrych's are nothing more than out-patient procedures these days. High school kids have Tommy John surgery the way they used to rub their faces in Clearasil in the good old days.

If Fidrych only would have waited a few years to rip up his shoulder he might have had a longer career. He might have been around long enough to make enough money throwing a baseball so that he would not have had to return to Massachusetts and go to work as a contractor or help out at Chet's Dinner, owned by his mother-in-law.

But from all the stories, Fidrych probably would have done it the same way.

By now most people know all the stories about "The Bird." He was on the cover of Sports Illustrated AND Rolling Stone (back when that meant something) with that floppy Tigers' cap pulled over that crazy mop of curly hair with Big Bird. He talked to the ball, smoothed the dirt on the mound with his bare hands while on his hands and knees. He waved to the fans in the middle of the game and ran over to teammates to shake their hands after good plays.

Hell, he even told hitters where he was going to throw the ball and they still couldn't hit it. Charlie Manuel's old pal, Graig Nettles, tells a story about watching The Bird talk to the ball before delivering a pitch. As soon as he saw it, Nettles says he called time, hopped out of the batters' box and began talking to his bat.

"Never mind what he says to the ball," Nettles said he told his bat. "You just hit it over the outfield fence!"

But when Nettles struck out, he blamed the bat.

"Japanese bat," the story goes. "It doesn't understand a word of English."

I missed Fidrych's act. I was too young, but I caught bits and pieces of it at the very end when he staged one of his many comebacks with the Tigers. I also caught enough of the hype to understand what everyone was talking about, though how does one explain Mark Fidrych to people who missed it? How do you properly explain a pitcher who talked to the ball, told hitters where it was coming, yet still racked up 24 complete games and 19 wins?

Anyway, one part I remember was a game on TV at the end. It must have been in '79 back before cable TV when the Game of the Week was the only chance us D.C. kids had to see teams other than the Orioles, and Fidrych was talking to Tony Kubek before a game about his return. Needless to say, it was so much different than any other ballplayer interview.

Fidrych looked like he was actually having fun. He looked like he liked to play baseball. He smiled when he played and bounced when he ran. It was a game, right? It was supposed to be fun.

To this day there was never anyone like Mark Fidrych. If there was someone like him, that personality would be stamped out and pulverized before he reached the big leagues. But thankfully there was The Bird. When they showed him on TV, even all those years after that summer of '76, personality beamed from the set like trippy, psychedelic colors. It just oozed out there like dripping honey. Years later, any time there was a Fidrych sighting or even a story in a magazine, I stopped in my tracks and took notice as if in a trance.

Still, it was impossible to watch those old tapes and wonder about the "what if." What if he never got hurt? Would the game be different now? Would it be more fun?

Fortunately, the "what if" never got to The Bird. Years after his comet had streaked out of view, they found him in Massachusetts on his farm with that crazy curly hair and that big goofy smile. He was still having fun, only without the sellout crowds and the baseball in his right hand. When asked who he would have over for dinner if he could invite anyone in the world, Fidrych was as goofy as ever.

"My buddy and former Tigers teammate Mickey Stanley, because he's never been to my house," he said.

Fidrych reportedly died approximately an hour after Harry Kalas. But unlike Philadelphia's Voice, Fidrych was far away from the ballpark when his dump truck apparently fell on top of him. He was apparently working on his truck when it came loose and crushed him...

A strange ending for one of the neatest and pleasantly strange ballplayers ever.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rm_jU0b5Hgw&hl=en&fs=1]

Harry the K

WASHINGTON -- So, yeah... Monday was a crazy day. It's not every day when you are one of the last handful of people to see a man alive, let alone a baseball Hall of Famer like Harry Kalas. Strangely, had I not stopped at a Best Buy south of Baltimore off I-695 to replace the laptop power cord I accidentally left at home, I never would have stepped onto the elevator with Larry Andersen, Rob Brooks and Harry. I also would never have taken the elevator all the way up to the top floor if we hadn't been talking about the Mets opener at their new ballpark instead of the scribes' floor one below.

And finally, if I hadn't been for my forgetfulness I never would have walked along with Harry, L.A. and Rob to their respective booths before realizing I was on the wrong floor.

Crazy day all around.

I think everyone had the sense something wasn't right when David Montgomery gathered all of the traveling media outside of the visitors' clubhouse door at Nationals Park. Montgomery usually doesn't address the press unless it's really a big deal so by the look on the gathered faces and Monty's demeanor meant something extraordinary had occurred.

Of course another tip off could have been that the clubhouse was closed up as soon as Cole Hamels, Rich Dubee and Lou Marson returned from the lefty's bullpen session. A few of us were waiting out the pitcher for the latest on his progress as he prepares for Thursday night's start. Initially, when we were summoned by the PR staff to the clubhouse, I thought Hamels was going to be brought into one of the side conference rooms for us.

Then I saw Monty and those faces.

When the events were explained to us - about how Brooks found Harry collapsed in the booth, alerted the emergency medics and then rushed him to George Washington University Hospital, there was a bad sense.

Unfortunately it proved to be correct.

So yeah, it wasn't the typical day at the ballpark and I never did find out how Hamels felt after his bullpen session. It also struck me that it must have been remarkably difficult for Harry's partners in the booth to call today's game. How do they block that out and focus? How did they not want to copy the famous "Outta Here!" call when Ryan Howard hit that clutch three-run homer in the seventh inning?

How does baseball sound without Harry Kalas? I ask because I don't know... I never heard it.

Gen Xers or kids born in the '70s are prone to navel gazing and introspection. We love that "remember when" game. We love to talk about the first time we did this or heard that or what the air smelled like on a particular day something poignant happened. Maybe me more so than others, but damn, all those memories are flooding back.

I think I knew Harry Kalas' voice before I knew what his name was or even before I knew I liked baseball. All I remember was being 4 or 5 years old and running around on a visit to my grandparents house in Lancaster, Pa. I remember a baseball game was on TV and how riveting it was - especially the part where a ball was hit and a fielder threw it to the first baseman.

I was hooked. I also thought the infielders were actually throwing the ball at the runner.

More than anything I remember that voice and the excitement. Since then I've learned that baseball can be pretty mundane from time to time. Not every game feels important - sometimes they just happen and that's that. They don't feel like a big deal.

But Harry Kalas never acted that way. To him, every game and every broadcast was important. Yeah, he lost a little off the ol' fastball in the last few years. He missed a few here and there, but so what. Whose voice would you prefer to hear on a home run or a big victory?

There is only one I can think of.

My grandfather, Robert Johnson, was my hero. He died in 1986 when he was just 67 from cancer. Everything worth knowing, my grandfather taught me. He taught me how to tip, how to drink coffee, how to order off the menu, how to swing a golf club, how to throw a curve, how to spit, how properly use swear words, how to tell jokes and how to read the racing form. But, most importantly, he taught me how to treat other people.  Sometimes I live up to the standard, other times I fall short... though with the swearing and the horse wagering is always pitch perfect.

The point is Harry was cut from the same cloth as my grandfather. In fact, they knew each other. One time at one of those sportswriters banquets at the Host in Lancaster, my grandfather walked over to Harry and said, "Hi Harry, how have you been?"

"Great, Bob. It's good to see you..."

How did my grandfather know Harry Kalas? Needless to say, he went up a few notches in my book that day - if there were any more a mere mortal could climb.

But what made them the same was that they both knew how to treat people. The word, "no," was not in their vocabulary. If Harry was ever annoyed, he never showed it and if he thought doing something was a drag, he never said anything. Ask him anything and he had a story to go with it. Ask him about his white shoes and he'll tell you about Pat Boone. His favorite day in baseball? Anything with Mickey Vernon or his dearly departed pal, Richie Ashburn.

Too many stories and not enough time to tell them all.

As Scott Franzke said this afternoon: "He never turned down an autograph. He never turned down a photo. He never turned down a request to record someone's out-going voicemail message," Franzke said. "As someone new in the game, he showed me that we do this for the fans. The fans are why we are here.

"The players come and go, but, 'Outta here,' lasts forever."

Harry truly enjoyed his celebrity. He truly enjoyed the fans. It was never put on or phony. To him, he had the greatest job in the world and there is something romantic about a guy who has a calling and gets to do it until his very last breath.

Perfect. Just like one of Harry's home run calls.

Going green

It's a big weekend for sports with the Phillies diving deeper into the season and The Masters burning up the TV set down there in Augusta, Ga. Meanwhile, the Phillies play in their third home opener on Monday when they face the lowly Washington Nationals in D.C. Yes, the vagaries of being the WFCs.

Unfortunately for the Phillies, the trip to the White House will be the only chance for the team to hobnob with the President. The White House announced today that President Obama will not throw the ceremonial first pitch at Monday's game.

The Nats will just have to find someone else.

Besides, the President is heading off to Mexico and Trindad after the Phillies' visit next Tuesday.

So while the Phillies will have to make do with a mere visit to the White House, a new Masters champion will likely get a congratulatory phone call from the President later this weekend. The way things are shaping up now it very well could be Lancaster native and Manheim Township grad, Jim Furyk. Midway through the second round Furyk is right there on the mix to win his first green jacket, which hardly seems like a prize at all.

But then again, the Masters is all about conformity. They make the caddies dress in those awful white jumpsuits and green Masters ballcaps, which kind of blends in with most of the players' attitude about uniqueness. White belts or large belt buckles seem to be the trend these days so the fairways at Augusta National suddenly look like bingo night at the Quiet Valley Retirement Village.

Of course the big white whale at the Masters is Phil Mickelson who has taken to doing ads for ExxonMobile these days. Then again, one has to figure that Mickelson spends enough cash buying gas for his plane so he might as well get some of it back.

*

Finally, it's still a sad day around baseball as players react to the death of Angels' pitcher Nick Adenhart. Since 2002, Adenhart, from the DC/Baltimore suburb of Silver Spring, is the third Major Leaguer to die in an accident allegedly related to drunken driving.

As usual, Joe Posnanski captures it nicely. At the same time, the Los Angeles/California/Anaheim/Los Angeles Angels are no strangers to tragedy.

'I just liked baseball when I was a kid...'

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJWS6qyy7bw&hl=en&fs=1] Billy Bob in a winning interview.

Not quite as good as this one, though:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bj1DZKOeZhI&hl=en&fs=1]

Send lawyers, guns and money

Here we go again... The French Anti-Doping Agency (AFLD) claims Lance Armstrong violated their testing protocol by not remaining "... under (the) direct and permanent observation" of the tester, the AFLD said in a statement.

Lance's statement, via Twitter, said it all:

"Was winning the Tour seven times that offensive?!?"

Apparently so.

Nevertheless, the Tour de France, the cycling union and the alphabet soup of drug-testing bureaucracies/agencies were lukewarm on their best days on the notion of a comeback by the seven-time winner of the Tour de France. If they had their druthers, it seems as if they would simply ignore the most-decorated cyclist ever simply because... well, that's the good question.

What did Lance do to upset these folks?

How are these for guesses...

Was it because he survived cancer?

How about never testing positive for any drug test?

Being the focal point of tons of rumor and innuendo?

Dating celebrities?

Running the Boston Marathon?

Being from Texas?

I know - his presence makes folks pay attention to the Tour de France and if there is anything the folks who run the race do not want is attention. After all, with attention comes questions and if there is one thing those folks do not want is to be questioned on their shady ethics, faulty tests and obvious biases.

Oh yes, Lance making a comeback is a bad idea. There is no doubt those folks high-fived when Lance crashed and busted up his collarbone last month during a race in Spain. If they didn't high-five, they did the French derivation of the high-five, which might be a smack on the rear or blowing smoke rings from a Gauloises.

So they look for loopholes. At least that's the way it seems. They want blood, hair and urine, even while on the way back from a training ride around Beaulieu-sur-Mer last month.

Lance's big wrongdoing was that he took a shower after that ride. Yes, imagine that - a French drug tester angry at an American for taking a shower.

Yes, we all know how the French feel about showering.

So yes, here we go again. Though AFLD president Pierre Bordry has not come out and said Lance is guilty of any type of infraction, the bureaucracy is considering whether or not to proceed with sanctions based on that shower.

Apparently the AFLD was unable to hire Norman Bates.

Last of a dying breed

It's my contention that newspaper writers are this era's steel workers. The world is changing all around us, and the way in which information is passed on from person to person is no different. So wither the ol' ballscribe. According to a story in the Wall Street Journal's web site (heehee), there aren't going to be too many baseball writers around in the future.