World Series Outsider: Genius and Hyperbole

Many coaches/managers have been termed ‘genius’ by an overzealous and often attention starved media. Apparently, any time a Super Bowl or a World Series is won, a genius is born.

“Uneasy Lies the Head that Wears a Crown” wrote William Shakespeare (or whoever the hell Roland Emmerich says really wrote Henry IV). This pithy bit of writing is currently getting tested by baseball’s resident genius, Cardinals manager Tony Larussa. Many things have been said about Mr. Larussa, some snide commentary; some reverential hyperbole. As with so many things, the truth may lie in the middle.

I have, more often than not, fallen on the snide side of the ledger. What can I say? I can be small minded sometimes, and my dislike of someone or something can have an inverse relationship to how much credit or how sycophantic the evaluation of the person or thing is. Often, the more the thing is built up, the more likely I am to resist. However, I am willing to give a second listen, look or evaluation to the thing, ready to be disproved or to have my opinion strengthened. And if the thing proves to be as good as, or better than what was described (very rare), then I usually become a pretty staunch supporter.

What does this rambling thought/explanation have to do with Tony Larussa? Well, he’s been anointed with the ‘genius’ label. He ‘outmanaged’ the hapless Philadelphia Phillies manager Charlie Manuel (yes, this is sacrcasm) to get his team to the World Series. Larussa is credited with being an ultimate tactician, changing pitchers as if channel surfing. An inning can go on for 30 minutes as Larussa plays the matchups. And, it seems that I may be the only baseball fan who gets bored and stops watching.

Fox and their broadcasting team have joined the genius chorus of ESPN, and revel in breaking down the nitty gritty of each and every move Larussa makes. So it must have stunned anyone who fancies themselves a baseball fan that the Cardinals lost a game the other night. And that they lost this game due to… a bad (or, perhaps non) decision by Larussa??? That can’t be!

He’s a genius, you remind me. How could he possibly have a pitcher in the game that he did not want there? I have no idea – I didn’t actually watch this game. My diatribe here is pretty much based on accounts I’ve heard on sports radio – where true geniuses abound… That said – this happened because of a bad phone situation? Because he was unable to communicate to his bullpen coach which guy he wanted on the mound? Where was the Tony Larussa that told TBS broadcasters (during the game) that, against the Phillies, the Cardinals were pitching to two strike zones?

The bullpen can’t be all that far away from where Larussa was. At the very least, he could have walked out to the mound, and yelled out the name of the guy he wanted. Surely, the shortstop could have relayed the message to the appropriate outfielder and that guy could have mentioned it to the bullpen crew. People bring signs to ballgames all the time. Larussa could have made one of his own. He could have gone out to the mound and held up his very creative and colorful sign – with the name of the reliever he wanted in the game clearly written.

Perhaps there is some ancient baseball rule that I don’t care to be aware of that made it so Larussa had to stick with the pitcher he had, rather than, I don’t know, cause some phony delay to give the pitcher he wanted time to warm up? He could have volunteered to conduct an impromtu in-game, dugout interview in which he could have talked about how his team should not have to deal with the indignity of the 3-strike strikeout. And while this subterfuge was going on, someone could have alerted the correct pitcher to start warming up. Then, after the interview finished, Larussa could have bought even more time by walking to home plate and outlining a plan (with pie charts – or at least stills of the Pitch Tracker) for helping the umpire to improve his calling of a game.

Somehow, none of this happened. And Larussa and the Cardinals lost as a result. That’s what we’re told, anyway. Somehow in sports, a game can be won or lost based on one play. All the other errors, baserunning mistakes, poor pitch selections, walks and just plain dumb luck have no cumulative effect. No – it was that bullpen situation. Forget that the guy who was in the game is a professional pitcher and should be able to handle a pitching situation. This all comes down to the fact that Larussa is not twins, and therefore, was not in the bullpen at the time of the call.

I don’t really care. I have no love lost for the Cardinals, and I am glad they lost. Serves them right for defeating the Phillies. I hope they lose game 6 and draw a close to this tainted baseball season. Should Larussa and the Cards come back to win, then maybe he is a genius. But in order to be a genius, you have to take the good with the bad. You take them both, and there you have....Genius? If Larussa is willing to accept the fawning, he has to take the goatship too. And, to his credit, at least in this case, he has done so. I do dispute his genius-ness though.

To be honest, my ire here is more directed at the baseball drones who seem to have had their ability to independently evaluate surgically removed. Is it necessary to bleat on about Larussa’s skill as a manager? Is that really the most compelling thing to talk about? This idea is pretty well established. How about breaking some new ground? There are oodles of baseball-related things to talk about that haven’t already been covered in endless, hyperbolic detail, right? Like – how awesomely supreme Albert Pujols is. No, wait – that has been… Oh, never mind.

Dear Pittsburgh Penguins, I want you to know why I hate you. By Michael Hochman.

Dear Pittsburgh Penguins:

Ok, the more I think about it, the more you piss me off. It didn't take front-office intelligence for you to get where you are. It didn't take shrewd moves or well-thought out drafts. It didn't take risks or hard work. In fact, more than anything, it took consistent losing.

In 2002, you sucked, as you had for a while, so you were rewarded with the 5th overall pick and took Ryan Whitney.

Then you still sucked a year later and had the 3rd overall pick in 2003. Florida didn't want it because they didn't' need a goalie, so they traded you the FIRST overall pick, and wham, Marc-Andre Fleury is a Penguin. The Flyers chose 24th.

Then somehow you CONTINUED to suck in 2004, but oh darn, you didn't win the draft lottery and couldn't draft Alex Ovechkin. But you sucked enough to pick SECOND overall, and had to settle for Evgeny Malkin. I feel sorry for your booby prize. The Flyers didn't draft until 92nd.

Then in 2005, the lockout year, you were rewarded for sucking over SEVERAL years. The NHL held the Sidney Crosby Sweepstakes lottery with you, Buffalo, the Rangers, and Columbus given equal chances of winning. Fuck-n-a if you didn't win that lottery. You got Sidney Crosby by sheer luck, and it certainly didn't take a genius to take him when you got the top pick. Yay for finishing in last. The Flyers drafted 29th that year.

Despite all obsticles, in 2006 you still sucked, and were presented the prize of the SECOND overall pick again and took Jordan Staal. Another No-Brainer. The Flyers drafted 22nd.

And then in 2007 when the Flyers for once have the worst overall record, they don't even win the draft lottery. In a weak draft, they pick 2nd and take James van Riemsdyk. Solid, but no Whitney, Fleury, Malkin, Crosby, and Staal. The difference between the Flyers and the Penguins? The Flyers realized they didnt like losing very much, something the Pens seemed to enjoy, and decided to go back to the Eastern Conference Finals the very next year (where they lost to the we're-so-shitty-we're-stocked-from-multiple-high-drafts Penguins). Despite the opportunity to keep on losin', the Flyers decided winning was kinda important.

An amazing strategy: play like shit for many years, draft no-brainer future stars, continue to play like shit, and draft even more future stars. Wow, you guys are a hell of an organization. That took some brilliance. Fifth, third, second, first, second. It's like a freakin' fantasy draft. This is why I hate you, the Pittsburgh Penguins.

Love, Michael Hochman

The 2011 Phillies: World Series Dreams Rent Asunder and Bad Nicknames

Now that the world series is upon us, I felt compelled to crawl out of writing hibernation to attempt to sum up my thoughts on "the one that got away" - i.e. the Phillies 2011 campaign. In one very short, very frustrating, very annoying 5-game series, the Phillies took what was inevitable (a World Series appearance) and made it something unreachable.

They were outplayed, outlasted and outwitted, succumbing to the most humbling and equalizing of all things in sports - hubris. I don't believe for one second that the St. Louis Cardinals were better than the Phillies, but the Cards are in the World Series. Perhaps there was an air of inevitability in Philadelphia - unfortunately, the Phillies transferred this trait to St. Louis by playing like a corporate softball team that had kicked the keg before the end of the 2nd inning.

Following the Phillies has been like going through the five stages of grief:

2007 - Amazement. 1st postseason in 15 years. Just happy to be there.

2008 - Joy. 1st World Series win in 28 years. Perhaps they should have disbanded the team.

2009 - Confusion. We lost in the World Series? To the Yankees? And we had a better team than in 2008? And the Yankees were really not all that good? Come again?

2010 - Frustration. A no-hitter in the playoffs? First one since 1956? Good start. Losing to a far inferior team in the San Francisco Giants? Continuing what would become a pattern.

2011 - Anger. Losing in the first round to the Cardinals? And not because of Albert Pujols - arguably the best player in the game? Because nobody was able to hit the ball and nobody could stop Ryan Theriot and David Freese?

I think the Phillies woes might boil down to one thing. A long tradition of sad, sad nicknames.

As most Phillies fans do, I loved Harry Kalas and miss him terribly during baseball season. But there were two things that Harry did that I did not like.

One was when he would sing "High Hopes." I'm sure this is considered blasphemy, but there it is. I think Harry had a great voice for broadcasting, but not so much for singing.

Two was the nicknames. They were atrocious. In a lot of cases, it was add an 'r' or a 'y' (or some form thereof) to the guys name. Laker. Krukker. Schmitty. Eisey. Inky. Really? Laker?? Lenny Dykstra was "Dude." When he came from New York, he was "Len" and he was "Nails." I liked Nails much better. This at least displayed some imagination. Darren Daulton was "Dutch." Eh. Surely such a fan favorite deserved better.

And it hasn't gotten any better over time. Year after year, the Phillies are last in the league in QNG (quality of nicknames given). Often, players are left without a nickname. It's a travesty.

Let's look at it in terms of the current players:

Jimmy Rollins - JRoll. This is at least as bad as the 'r' and 'y' mentality. No imagination. By this methodology, I should be MFran. It's like a few years back when, via the internet, you could get your own Wu Tang Clan nickname (I am "Pre-Raphaelite Shaolin" in case you were wondering). The fact that, most likely, nobody reading this remembers this indicates how interesting it was. I maintain that "JRoll" is every bit as not interesting as the Wu Tang thing.

Shane Vicorino - An exception to the rule. "The Flyin' Hawaiian" is actually a good nickname. It goes beyond adding something to a name, contracting a name or making a nickname based on a similarity to another name (which is often a stretch). This nickname is catchy, rolls off the tongue, makes kids smile and rhymes. Credit where it's due for this one.

Chase Utley - Does he even have a nickname? This is a case where he's been a great player, but there isn't a whole lot of personality. Gets tons of extra credit for "World Fu**ing Champions" though. No more need be said - perhaps Chase was so good, he doesn't require a nickname.

Ryan Howard - Where do I begin? Again, I don't know if he has a nickname, but I can think of a few - and they're not very nice. The Shift. K-Man. Mr. September. 1-2-3. A great hitter when he's on and a bowel movement when he's not. It's telling that St. Louis walked Hunter Pence to pitch to Howard, and he obliged by making an out. I really try to stay positive about Howard, but he makes it hard. Feel free to suggest nicknames in the comments (all four of you who may read this).

Hunter Pence - Not sure if he has a nickname, but I don't care. The guy's a gamer and that's good enough for me.

Raul Ibanez - Again, not sure if he has a nickname. But I do wish the fans would have come up with something with more bite than "Rauuuuuuuuuuuuul!"

Carlos Ruiz - Again - "Choooooooch" ?? Adding lots of vowels is nice, but a bit tiresome. But at least he has a decent nickname. It's better than freaking 'Pudge' - a dumbass nickname that seems to be bestowed to a catcher regardless of whether or not the guy has any pudge to speak of. Does Ivan Rodriguez seem like a 'Pudge' to you? Me neither. Carlton Fisk? Maybe.

Placido Polanco - This may be the worst transgression of them all. Polly? Polly. Oh, come on!!! The guy is a classic throwback player who has good at bats, is a good fielder and generally just plays the game right. Give him better than Polly!! Polly want a decent nickname??

Roy Halladay - What can one say? Great pitcher, maybe the best in baseball. But the nickname (and yes, I know it came with him from Toronto) - "Doc" ?? Ugh. What's up, Doc? A bad nickname is what's up. As a result of this nickname, we have had to endure Gary Matthews calling him "Holliday" for the past few years. It's not Sarge's (good nickname) fault - "Doc" Holliday is a fairly well known historical figure. It's a jolly holiday with you, Roy - except for the nickname.

Think of the nicknames out there that - when you hear them, you know exactly who the person is.

Sweetness. Magic. The Great One. The Splendid Splinter. The Iron Horse. The Big Hurt. Mr. October. Spaceman. Charlie Hustle. Say Hey Kid. Dr. J. Joe Cool. Broadway Joe. Big Mac. The Sultan of Swat.

There was (and IMHO, should be) a kind of beauty to nicknames. They should go beyond the simplistic. They should invoke a mind's eye image of the player in his salad days. And, I note with interest, that none of the above listed nicknames have an added 'r' or 'y' - but all of them should conjure up the face or achievement of the person.

Of course, in the ESPN world in which we live, folks like Chris Berman have thrown around myriad nicknames that did not stick. Which is good. The negative legacy of this, however, was when carelessness, laziness and folks just plain thinking that they are soooo clever, led to nicknames that never existed before the 1980s being retroactively assigned to greats of the past: "Teddy Ballgame" and "Donnie Baseball."

I remember the nicknames "The Kid" and "The Splendid Splinter" - But I had never heard "Teddy Ballgame" until around the time of the 1999 All-Star Game in Boston. If there is any written verification of this nickname occurring prior to, say, 1980, I'd love to see it. I also do not recall Don Mattingly having a nickname during his playing days. He was just one of the best players in the game at the time. And that was enough.

Unfairly, I am mostly picking on the Phillies here, but that's because I'm a homer, and the Phillies are my fave team. I'm sure that other teams have some equally tedious nicknames. But that's their problem. I just want to help the Phillies return to World Series glory. And I think better nicknames would be a step in the right direction.

Dear Phillies: It's Been Great and All, But We Need To See Other People

That's it, I can't do it anymore. I am not equipped with any more emotional resilience, can't go with the flow, can't stand steady while the boat rocks and rolls. Once, so long ago, I had it in me, but now it's too late. Years of these kinds of endings to seasons have robbed me of that give, that elasticity that everyone else calls perspective. (Apologies to Liz Wurtzel.) I can't emotionally give myself to these teams anymore. Not after the last three Phillies seasons, not after the last two Flyers playoffs, not after the last decade of Andy Reid, not even after the last [insert number here] NCAA tourney disappointments by the Wildcats and Owls and my Orange. I can't do the hype going into a regular season that means nothing when the walls come crashing down at playoff time. The tank is empty. It's time to get back to the Phillies of Len Matuzek and Tim Corcoran, the Eagles of Bobby Hoying and Chris Boniol, the Flyers of Steve Duchesne and Jeff Hackett, the Sixers of Mike Gminski and Jeff Ruland. They were bad, but they were known quantities. You got what you expected. They were who we thought they were. These teams now, all the expectations and all the excitement, it's like searching for years for the perfect girl who then runs away with the exterminator who is killing squirrels in the church on your wedding day. Or with David Freese.

At least the Eagles had the decency to free up my Sundays early in the season instead of leading me on until December.

Most likely gone: Rollins, Madson, Lidge, Oswalt, Ibanez, Gload, all free agents. Howard may be out the full season after somehow tearing his Achilles tendon while choking, putting Mayberry at first base, so now no left fielder and no first baseman to go along with no shortstop, no closer, and no fourth ace. Plus replacing Howard and Ibanez' power. Polanco still hurt, is third base shored up? Will Valdez and Mini-Mart both start for this team? No Lidge or Contreras in the middle of the bullpen, another season of Fat Joe or Kyle Kendrick (luckiest man in baseball) as one will start and one will come out of the pen, and can you count on Stutes and Bastardo (not to mention Worley)? Seems hitters figured them out. David Herndon. And they'll be setting up for whom to close? What if Dom Brown isn't any better than we've seen? What then about right field? That's 5 of 8 positions in question, plus starters #4 and 5, and the entire bullpen. (Not to mention Charlie's right hand man if Mackanin takes the Boston gig.) That infield, that outfield, that bullpen... not championship material. Money's now tight and Pence and Hamels are arbitration eligible. What do they do? And if Jose Reyes is the answer to all the Phils' ills™, we're all in trouble. Plus this team is now officially old. At least they're golfing now. That's what old people do.

My Halloween costume this year? I won't show up at all and say I'm the Phillies. Pitchers and catchers in 130 days, in case you were curious.

This is not only the end of the Phils' season, but the end of this Phils' era. They are up against the luxury tax ceiling and won't go higher. They've depleted the farm system with trades to win now, which they haven't. With two seasons of playoffs crap, who stays and who goes? Changes will be made that will be unpopular with fans. It has to and will happen (look at the Flyers.) Fans will start to get frustrated and start not going to the ballpark or buying merchandise. Revenues will fall and so will payroll. And possibly by as soon as next year, this team will fall back to mediocrity. And then what? I hope you enjoyed the five year run, this is the end of an era. It was a long time between pennants from 1950 and 1980. It was a long time between championships from 1980 and 2008. Let's hope it's not another two decades until another World Series.

That's it. I'm done. I can't give my time, money, emotions, effort, or energy to these teams again, the one in the red pinstripes in particular. It's been great, but this relationship isn't working anymore. All we do is wind up fighting (and frankly, uh, there's this premature elimination problem). I need some space. No no, don't blame yourself. It's not you, it's me (it's really you). You'll still see me occasionally, we can still be friends. I'll keep up with how you're doing on Facebook. And I don't mind some post-break-up sex every now and then. I'm come over to your place (it's nicer than mine), hang out, but I want to see other people. Really, all I want is for you to be happy. But I can't be there for you anymore in the way that you need. Is your friend the Nippon Ham Fighters still single? Don't forget your toothbrush. I don't know what a Howard-less, Rollins-less, Madson-less, Ibanez-less Phillies will look like next year, but I know I won't counting down to spring training, I won't be rushing home for to watch a business-person's special in June, I won't plan my vacations around October baseball because this team doesn't deserve it. There's an old saying in Tennessee - I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee - that says, fool me once, shame on... shame on you. Fool me... you can't get fooled again. Will I change my mind over a long winter? Soften a bit? Have a regretful summer fling with the old girlfriend? Am I writing from the heart and not the brain out of recent traumatic emotion? Will they win me back with sweet talk and shiny jewelry? Maybe. Maybe I'm not strong enough to quit you.

But I can't let the Phillies fool me again. Until they do again next year.

Michael H.
Phillies fan since 1978
Twitter @PhillyPartTwo