One reason I always rooted for McGwire is that I could relate to him as a ballplayer. Oh, by no means did I have his talent or skill, but what he did best, hit for distance and walk a lot, is all I was ever good at as well. We were both big clumsy first baseman (don’t believe his Gold Glove) with almost no foot speed. I was not a good baseball player, however, but I always could hit for distance and for what few memories people have of me as a ballplayer, they always revolve around how far I could hit a baseball.

I became a ballplayer pretty much by accident. When I was eight a neighborhood kid told me he was going to join Little League, so I joined as well, even though I had never shown an interest before. I remember having a pretty good arm, but I was a very clumsy hitter. My brother had a nice natural left-handed stroke, while I had a big looping almost out of control swing that often caused my head to pull off the ball. One skill I did have early on though, was walking. It was highly underrated in Little League then, much like the Major Leagues as a matter of fact. But if one were to evaluate my performance now, I’d look better since I could get on base a lot.

I became a pitcher on a horrendously bad team my second year in Little League. I could strike out a lot of hitters, throwing slurves, curves, and sinkers, but I could be wild as well, because I was also a headcase. I’d lose focus, get into snits when my team would miss grounders or pop flies (which happened often). But, I had no choice to keep trying to get better. I’d throw every inning of every game I played in practically, god knows how many pitches I’d throw as a ten, eleven, and twelve year old. My last year I finally got my head together during my second game, and I was pretty good the rest of the way out. My hitting was better, but I never really developed into a real power hitter. Never could get my swing consistent enough to really hit home runs, but I’m pretty sure I could hit farther than most if not anyone else. Alas, I also hurt my back that year, and it meant that I couldn’t do much in the last game of the season, and my All-Star appearance (if we had played any games) would have been limited.

That summer, after Little League, I joined some local youth summer camp type thing. I wanted to play on the softball team, but my back wouldn’t allow it, so I just sat and watched. The next year I attempted to move up to the Babe Ruth league, which would be the first league where I played on a regular sized diamond. I misunderstood the tryout process, left early, and while I had just assumed I would make it, I in fact did not make it on my first try out. I thought I did ok at the time, but in retrospect, I probably looked like a big uncoordinated mess out there. I had grown nearly 6 inches in the previous school year and by the time try outs came around, I was just about six feet tall, but extremely uncoordinated. It was extremely disappointing to not have made it, and I considered strongly quitting. I had started to really get into computers and thought maybe I should dedicate myself to that. In the end, I decided to join the “practice squad” so to speak, and eventually someone left the team, and I was a full member of the team.

I’d have to say my Babe Ruth years were very disappointing. My first year I didn’t play much, not showing I could hit, and not sure I even had a position at the time. I did pitch well in one game, but lousy in the next, and I don’t think I had the makeup to really be a closer. Our team did win the championship, but I didn’t have much of a connection to it, since I hardly played. That summer I returned to the youth summer group determined to play on the softball team and hit home runs. For about a month before the season started, I did nothing but swing a water logged wooden bat. My forearms got almost as big as my biceps, and I felt like I could really do some damage. The first swing I took in a game I hit a home run to dead center field. It felt so ridiculous easy, the swing was so natural.

I had an open stance now, with my feet wide apart. The bat was held about 6 inches from my right ear, so that if I took a quick glance back, I could just see my hands. Bat straight up, with my left pinky wrapped around the knob. I later learned that’s how Mickey Mantle also held the bat. For me, it’s just natural. I ended up setting a new record for homeruns in that youth camp thingie. I think I doubled the previous record. If it was 12, I hit 24 for example. I have no idea how long it stood or if whoever broke it was as young as I was at the time, but for a time, I had smashed the previous record. I remember the first home run I hit, and another shot I hit, that while I was able to run home before someone could get the ball back to the infield, I only received a ground rule double because it rolled into some weeds, god knows how far away. As I trotted back to second, the umpire just shook his head, I assumed because he didn’t believe I had hit it so far. Like many home runs I hit over the years, I never saw it land.

My next year in Babe Ruth was a little better, but still without a consistent position, and still not hitting well, I played only a bit. I only got one hit. I might have walked a lot though, so maybe I did better than I remember. My last year I played every inning of every game we played. I think I did okay at first base, but then was moved to third base because of another player’s injury. Let me tell you, I played an awful third base. It was terrible, and I became a head case again over it, and it made me play worse. My one highlight was a long home run I hit to break up a pitcher’s no-hitter. I never saw it land so I have to trust other people who told me where it landed. I remember rounding second base and they were still chasing it, I remember nearly tripping coming around third, and getting to home to a crowd of my teammates congratulating me. Everyone on the opposing team complimented me except for the pitcher and his dad. A few years later I was told that they were both extremely pissed that I broke up the no hitter. I found out that my home run came up as a topic of conversation recently, which is nice to hear. Still wish I had seen it land though.

I still considered myself a pitcher all those years in Babe Ruth, but lack of practice, weight gain, and I suspect a change in my frame as I hit puberty, left my arm and shoulder feeling lifeless. Something changed and I never felt the same fluidity and power out of my arm that I felt before puberty. All my speed and movement left me, and I was left with not much. Perhaps if I had been more serious about it, I could have worked my way back, but computers really started to take over a lot of my time, and it wasn’t like I was going to be a major league baseball player. When I walked off the field of the last game of the season, I thought to myself I was “retiring” from playing competitive baseball, that I would remain a fan of it, but my interests laid in the statistical arena of baseball.

I did try out my senior year in high school for the baseball team, after a year off. I was out of shape, but my swing did start to come back I thought. However, I didn’t like the way the baseball coach coached, and while I would have made the team, actually gotten some decent playing time as a DH perhaps, I quit because I wasn’t having fun, and if I wasn’t having fun with it, there was no point to me playing. I don’t regret it for a second. I went on to go to college for computer science as planned, and what distracted me from baseball ended up being my career.

I’m still a baseball fan to this day. I’m a big sabremetrics guy too, which combines my love of math and baseball into a powerful analytical way of looking at baseball players. It’s why I know Bert Blyleven should be in the Hall of Fame, and not Andre Dawson. It’s why Dwight Evans was a better ballplayer than Jim Rice, even though he won’t get even a sniff of the Hall of Fame. I’ll always be a fan of baseball, and it’s why hearing about Mark McGwire was such a downer. As a fan you want to believe that the players you love watching are as above board as possible. I don’t know if we’ll ever know for sure if Mac could have broken Maris’s record without steroids, but I do know I can’t look at 70 (or 73 for that matter) as a valid number. There will always be some taint to it. I look forward to the next player who comes close, the next great power hitter that challenges Maris again, even if that would only place him seventh on the single season record. I can’t wait to see who breaks 755 without the aid, as far as we know, of PED’s.

My memories of a baseball player, while most are memories of not succeeding, still are very important reasons that I follow baseball today. Even if I wasn’t particularly good at it, I understand how great a game it was, is, and will be. As soon as I’m done writing this, I will be turning on Sirius XM’s MLB Homeplace channel to get my fill of the hot stove league. It’s such a great sport that even my memories of failing at it, are good memories to have.

P.S. A few years ago, almost ten years after I last played any sort of organized baseball or softball, I played for my companies team for a few games one season. In my first game back after many years, I hit a home run out of the field and got to do the trot around the bases again. Head down, quick pace, with a little stutter step around the base to make sure I hit it. This time, perhaps for the last time, I got to see where it landed.

I will continue, starting again in spring training, to be a fan of baseball and the New York Mets. The sport of baseball is too much a part of my life as fan, and my love of the sport and the statistics makes it a winning combination.

Good luck to the Giants, Giants’ fans, and football fans in general.

Zorn and Gill report evidence that baseball fans are far more likely to embrace the designated hitter (DH) if they are Democrats:

Most important, and consistent with our expectations, we find that self-identified Democratic Party members are more likely to support the DH rule than are either independents or Republicans; the odds ratio of 1.90 suggests that, on average, Democrats are 90 percent more likely to support the rule than are independents. This implies (we think) that the values that draw the respondents to the Democrats are linked to those associated with supporting the rule. At the same time, the reverse is not true: Republicans are no more or less likely to support the DH rule than are political independents.

Sixty years ago today, Jackie Robinson stepped onto the field for the Dodgers to man first base. He represented the first modern African-American player to play baseball in Major League Baseball. Sixteen years before Martin Luther King’s famous “I Have a Dream” speech, Robinson moved the country forward towards the American Civil Rights Movement of the late fifties and sixties. Twenty years before American would see the first interracial kiss on the silver screen, Robinson was thrilling baseball fans with his talent, skill, and determination.

Jackie Robinson, by virtue of being a baseball player, was one of the first black heroes to white children of American. During his ten year playing career, all in Brooklyn, kids chased him down the street trying to get his autograph. To those young fans, Robinson was fighting the good fight against the hated New York Giants and New York Yankees. Robinson won Rookie of the Year in 1947 and the MVP award in 1949. A whole generation of baseball fans, as well as baseball players were changed forever.

By the time I became a baseball fan, black players were well established. In fact, my favorite players growing up were Dwight Gooden and Darryl Strawberry, the two black stars of the 80′s New York Mets. It wasn’t until much later that I even learned of the time when baseball was all white. It seemed inconceivable to a kid in 1986, when the all time home run champion was Hank Aaron, the best pitcher in baseball was Dwight Gooden, and Willie Mays was considered the greatest all around player, that blacks were ever not part of baseball.

Sadly, it is true that just a decade before I was born, that blacks were considered second class citizens by law. It is a blight on our nation that we first had slavery, and then the legal oppression of an entire race. Jackie Robinson, to me anyway, was one those civil rights pioneers that we owe our thanks to opening our eyes to the idiocy of racism. He was a great ball player and a great American. April 15th should be a national holiday, in the same way we celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday.

The Pirates have announced they are retiring Paul’s number. Read all about it here:

http://www.pittsburghlive.com/x/pittsburghtrib/s_502638.html