Nerds on Sports

In last week’s Business Day one column, I did you all the great service of introducing some of the lesser known American League All Stars to the blog reading public.  And this week, as promised, I’ll do the same with the National League.  Apparently, AAAA Baseball has stars too!

We’re all fairly familiar with the suddenly ageless Chipper Jones and ocassionally creepy looking Alfonso Soriano, but there are quite a few players that are separated from the public by a thirty foot high wall of apathy.  Let’s take a look at a few.

-Astros first baseman Lance Berkman coined his own nickname: The Big Puma.  This replaced his old nickname, which was Fat Elvis.

-Marlins shortstop Hanley Ramirez is, according to his own website, “an incredible father,” has Denzel Washington as his favorite actor and a Lamborghini Murcielago as his fifth favorite car.  Really, just fifth?

-If you want to get to Ashland, Kentucky, you may need to drive on Diamondbacks pitcher Brandon Webb.  Or, more specifically, a highway named in his honor.

-Brewers outfielder Ryan Braun is involved with Affliction Clothing, a fashion designer out of California that apparently outfits the scariest and deadliest looking men on Earth.  Not tough enough?  Well, he’s also called the Hebrew Hammer by at least one guy.

-Other Brewers outfield Corey Hart is apparently quite an accomplished singer in his spare time, releasing the famous pop hit “Sunglasses at Night” back in the 1980s.  He’s sinced toured the world and… wait… different Corey Hart?  Hmmm.  Well this is awkward.

-Ok, I’ll get it right this time.  Dodgers catcher Brian Wilson was widely regarded as the creative force behind the Beach Boys and… SON OF A… sorry.

Happy All Starring, everybody!

Greetings everyone. I would first like to thank Serpico for holding down the fort while the rest of the Nerds on Sports team had seemingly gone AWOL. Reasons for our absence range from life-altering personal developments to just being a bum. Which of those apply to which writer is an exercise left to a reader, though amusing guesses are encouraged.

Anyway, I finally have a sports post to blog about, and its not an even a rant about my fantasy baseball team, which would appeal to no one. Instead, I have a story about the Lowell Spinners game I attended last Saturday. Now minor league baseball has some inherent virtues, like the simple pleasure of watching a baseball game for cheap, and starting players with an average of less than 100, but I’m not going to dwell on such things. Instead, I’m going to talk about the game Pass the Cup, which was played by Willis, Serpico, and I. The premise of the game, for those of you too lazy to click on the link, is that during the game, a cup is passed between players during the game, and depending on the outcome of the AB, players have to put money in or take money out (in our case, in the form of quarters), and pass the cup on or keep holding onto it. Much like fantasy baseball, it makes you have more of a vested interested in the game and causes you to at times cheer against the home team. But unlike fantasy baseball, where you might be interested in only a few players, pass the cup makes you more interested in every single AB, regardless of who it is, and regardless of who is holding the cup. During the game I was losing a lot of money, mostly due to that pesky mounders rule, but I was able to walk away with the whole pot with a game-ending double play. My copious winnings all went toward the exciting purchase of laundry.

Having gone through the game once, we are already seeking to tweak the rules. Willis has already proposed increasing the amount of money taken out for base hits, which would likely work out well given how large our pot grew. I also believe that additional rules could be added/changed, including:

• Reach on Error: money in cup stays the same, but pass the cup in the opposite direction
• Walk in a run: collect $0.50
• Inside the Park Home Run: collect the cup + $1 from each player
• Last out of game (No hitter): collect the cup + $2 from each player
• CALLING THE PLAY: Before the ball is put into play, if the cup holder can correctly guess what the player AB will do (fly out, ground out, strike out, BB, single, double, triple, home run), s/he can decide whom to give the cup to (and can hold onto it if they wish).

Any other suggestions? Should some element of those weird audience participation games that take place between innings be added? Place a comment and let us know!

There’s a term I use when discussing baseball called The Fantasy Fandom Factor.  The basic premise is that there is a multi-tiered hierarchy of Major League ballplayers: (1) The Guys You Know and Love Because They’re On Your Team, (2) The Guys You Know and Perhaps Love Because They’re Really Good, and (3) The Guys You Know Merely Because You Play Fantasy Baseball.  As recently as fifteen years ago (before fantasy took over the national consciousness), even diehard MLB fans had no idea who anyone outside of the top players were outside of their home team’s division.  But now, these diehards have a vested interest in knowing who everyone is; it helps them win their fantasy leagues and garner the nerd-cred that comes with it.

Unfortunately, this gives rise to a new problem.  Fans know who these Category Three players are, but only insofar as their names, teams and stats.  They don’t know who they really are, deep down, below their slugging percentage.  Are they nice folks?  Do they have kids?  Where are they from?  Have they nailed Madonna?  As I was perusing the MLB All Star Game rosters, I realized there are a lot of Category Three folks that got the nod this year.  And since I’m in the business of helping you, the readers, I’m going to give you all a crash course on the roster so you can adequately wow your friends at your rockin’ All Star Game party.  We’ll start with the American League Roster, and maybe if you’re lucky I’ll do the NL next week.

AL Roster - Category 1 and 2:  Alex Rodriguez, Derek Jeter, Kevin Youkilis (being called the Greek God of Walks in a major book will bump you from a 3 to a 1), Manny Ramirez, Ichiro Suzuki, David Ortiz, Mariano Rivera, Scott Kazmir, Grady Sizemore, J.D. Drew (no one forgets a battery storm).

Category 3 Player Fun Facts:

-Angels Pitcher Ervin Santana was originally named Johan Santana, but changed his name when the other Johan Santana started demolishing baseball with the most unfair change-up in history.  He changed his name to Ervin because it sounded cool to him.

-Diminutive Red Sox Second Baseman Dustin Pedroia can be an emergency catcher in the case of some gruesome Jason Varitek-Kevin Cash collision during warm-up laps.

-Rangers Second Baseman Ian Kinsler, like Pedroia, went to Arizona State for a little while.  When not crisping in the sun, he enjoys a spirited round of golf.  Which involves more crisping in the sun.  In related news, someone should buy him sunscreen.

-Royals Pitcher Joakim Soria has the greatest active baseball nickname: The Mexicutioner.  Unfortunately, only the 20 people that live in Kansas City know it.

-Rangers Centerfielder Josh Hamilton battled drugs and alcohol for years before willing himself to go clean.  Even now, he is racked by dreadful dreams or his dark time.  When not clobbering baseballs, he goes on the road as a public speaker.

-Rays Catcher Dioner Navarro, who I’m making a pitch to be called The Venezuelmageddonator, is one of the best young catchers in the game.  That’s some feat, considering that fate has been absurdly cruel to his family this decade.

Go, baseball fans.  Armed with this knowledge, please look at these players are more than simply on-base machines for your fantasy team.  They are your All Stars, so enjoy them for who they are and what they do!

We all have that one cousin.  We talk about him on the carride to the family reunion, wondering if he’s going to insult your grandmother or puke in your aunt’s bathroom or say something unbelievably racist at a restaurant.  Any day that he behaves himself is a little victory and every so often, he’ll string enough good days together that you think he grew out of it.  But then he’ll barrel through a ten year old nephew during the family wiffleball game and you realize that he’s not going to change.

The city of Boston has a cousin like that too.  And his name is Manny Ramirez.  Sure, it’s better to have a self-absorbed idiot in the family than, say, a criminal.  But it’s just rough to have to keep rationalizing away his actions.  The most recent was a physical altercation with the team’s traveling secretary.  Allow me to sum up what happened: Manny asked for a high number of tickets (16) on the day of the game, and the traveling secretary said it might not be possible.  An argument started and the poor employee was shoved to the ground.  One closed door apology later and all is forgiven.  It is, of course, important to note that a similar player-on-office staff fracas happened resulted in a player being fired a week earlier.  Granted, that was a general manager that Shawn Chacon shoved instead of a humble traveling secretary, but violence in the workplace is still violence in the workplace.  Well, at least on paper.

This incident just reminds us that Cousin Manny can do whatever he wants to do while part of the family.  A few weeks earlier, he took a swing at Youkilis.  That’s two acts of physical aggression in the month of June.  And each is just washed away.  Washed away like every other bafflingly moronic thing that he’s done for the past ten years.  It’s not going to stop.  Fans and faithful have been aware of this for as long as he’s been in Boston.  But with violence in the equation now, it is very unfortunate that even that doesn’t give anyone pause.

If this was any other player on the Red Sox, he’d be suspended.  But it’s Cousin Manny.  And Cousin Manny can do whatever he wants, making a generally proud and decent organization a pack of hyprocrites.  But they’re not thinking too much about that, I suppose.  They’re probably too busy prying Manny’s butt out of the punch bowl again.

There’s a lot going on, and since it is Monday, I must explain it all.  Let’s feast on knowledge.

-The Gods of Sport heeded my prayers, and now a 17th banner will hang from the rafters of the New Boston Garden.  Kevin Garnett is no longer a choke artist, Ray Allen’s ankles are more durable than some thought, Paul Pierce displayed tremendous truthiness, and Rajon Rondo was a one-man fantasy team.  I am a big fan of people (or teams) that realize their potential.  Not that I’m a fan of pundits getting proven right or anything, but I derive a lot of satisfaction when a group that is considered great to fulfill their greatness.  The Celtics, after reeling off 66 wins during the regular season, did everything asked of them in the Finals, and the results were clear.

-Jason Giambi’s moustache is disturbing me more than I thought facial hair could.  I think it’s because the man is always sweaty.  There’s just something about sweat beading up and rolling down a moustache that makes me think of 70s pornography.  And I don’t care to think about such things when I’m watching baseball.  I find myself rooting against Giambi hitting a homerun, because then I’d be subjected to a close-up of his damp, hirsute face and he trots around the bases.  Truly, it is something that haunts my dreams.

-One of the joys of living in a big city is being able to follow the Euro 2008 based solely off of the facial expressions of various ethnic groups.

-When you’re arrested that often, people can call you whatever they want.

-The New York Giants, as they seem to every year, are embroiled in offseason controversy.  There are contract disputes, a jailed running back and a retired sack leader.  It feels like I’ve spent every year for the past decade lamenting at how dysfuntional the team I grew up with has been.  But every so often, I get a nice story about a 3,000 mile charity walk.  That keeps me holding on.

Since Dick Bavetta led Los Angeles to victory with a dozen assists (and a couple of gritty rebounds), there will be a Game Six in Boston on Tuesday.  This Lakers-Celtics NBA Finals will wear on for at least one more game.  And I need to make my hopes for it known.  This isn’t an entry so much as a plea to the Gods of Sport.  And to them, I pray today:

Gods of Sport, please allow Kevin Garnett to hang 25 points (including eight in the final four minutes) and 15 rebounds on the Lakers, thus removing his “wilts under pressure” stigma.

Gods of Sport, please empower the Celtics fans to come up with more hurtful and offensive chants to direct at Kobe Bryant.

Gods of Sport, please sooth and refresh the various ailing joints of Kendrick Perkins, Rajon Rondo and Paul Pierce, that they may do your will.

Gods of Sport, please give Pau Gasol the grains and wild greens he needs to survive.

Gods of Sport, please inspire the New Kids on the Block to hold a free concert on the Boston Common if the Celtics win.

Gods of Sport, please let Boston finish this.

In 2004, the Greece national football team won the championship of Europe. It’s science fact. The team was a roughly 125-1 longshot with bookmakers before the tournament, and in their opening match victory over host Portugal won their first ever match in international tournament competition. Greece, if you recall, has been around for a long time.

The Pirate Ship, as they are affectionately and bafflingly known, will attempt to board and assail Sweden in Salzburg today, the second UEFA Group D game in this 2008 EURO menagerie. Their title defense is garnering all the press and rockstar adulation as “Tree Falls in Forest; No One Around”. Bookmakers listed the Greeks, in a moment of generosity, as a pre-tournament 33-1 longshot, now at least acknowledged within the realm of possibility. Other group foes in the Swedes and Russians have similar odds, and the favored Spaniards’ expected dominance is so grand that they might not even have to play until the semifinals, despite the red shirted titans’ Cubs-in-October level of championship history.

So why the hate on the Greeks? For one, they play anti-American football: it’s boring. The wunderkids stole Euro ‘04 with only seven goals in six games, including three consecutive knockout stage 1-0 yawns. Plodding, violent defensive football harkens back to the abortion of World Cup 1990 more than the excitement and skill of say, the masterful Dutch second goal against the crippled Azzurri yesterday. Besides, 1-0 games are simply more random; if you don’t have the offense, you can’t play from behind. (Spain, for its part, is proving this by currently thumping the Russians; Prime Minister Putin will be displeased, and yes I know what I just said.) More importantly, Greece is Joe Morgan’s nightmare too; inconsistent. Fresh off their stunning triumph the national team couldn’t even qualify for the 2006 World Cup, as manager Otto Rehhagel kept pretty much the same team for qualifying despite the age and retirement from league play by some of its members.

So long as Angelos Charisteas is still on the roster, they’ll have a good shot. The center forward is the team leader in international competition goals, notching the Euro final’s lone score against the hosts. It’s going to take either the same brutal midfield play to keep shots away from goal or some inventive maneuvering and luck on the set pieces, but as evidenced by the brutal play from Russia today and the vanilla Swedish international history, it’s not too hard to see the Greeks through to the next round. And then what?

Back on the ship, everyone.

I walked from Roberto Clemente Field to Central Square yesterday at around 5 o’clock.  Thousands in red were leaving the city, taking Comm. Ave, Mass. Ave, Storrow or the Red Line.  Thousands in green were entering the city, taking Mem. Drive, Cambridge Street or the B, C, and D Lines.  The day shift was done and the night shift was beginning.  Not a bad day to be wandering the town after a kickball game.

Anyway, I’ve decided to help all of the Suddenly Celtics or Look At Them Lakers fans with today’s post.  Many of you, particularly those wearing the fresh-off-the-hanger Kevin Garnett jersies, have not been following the sport of basketball long enough to be able to offer pointed commentary during the Finals.  Do not worry, friends, because thanks to the power of the pun, you can save face in front of more die-hard fans.  Whenever a player does something well, just look up his name on the handy chart below and say the phrase next to it!

If You’re A Celtics Fan
Ray Allen - “His shooting hand is so hot they should call him ‘Heat Ray.’”
P.J. Brown - “What can ‘Brown’ do for us?  Give us quality minutes off the bench!”
Kevin Garnett - “He’s certainly a KG (cagey, nyuk nyuk nyuk) guy on defense.”
Eddie House - “He’s a brick, bah na na na, Eddie House!”
Kendrick Perkins - “I took this job for the Perk-ins!”
Paul Pierce - “He knows how to Pierce the opponent’s zone defense!”
James Posey - “Posey’s really come into bloom in the second half.”
Leon Powe - “You’ve just been ‘Powe’ned!”
Rajon Rondo - “In life, you’re either a Rondo or a Rondon’t.”

If You’re A Lakers Fan
Kobe Bryant - “Beefy!”
Jordan Farmar - “If he penetrates off the dribble, he’ll really go Far…mar.”
Derek Fisher - “Truly, he is the Fisher King.”
Pau Gasol - “He’s no Pau man’s Gasol!”
Chris Mihm - “Mihm’s the word!”
Lamar Odom - “He’s Def and Odom!”
Vladimir Radmanovic - (if you have a friend named ‘Vic) “Vladimir is Rad, man.  Oh, Vic, can you pass the chips?”
Ronnie Turiaf - “No wonder he runs so fast.  He’s playing on Turiaf.”
Sasha Vujacic - “That play was cic.”
Luke Walton - “What cool hands on that Luke!”
 

Feels dirty, right?  Well, bandwagoners, you should feel dirty!