RealClearSports: Ryan Zimmerman Brings Thoughts of Joltin’ Joe

By Art Spander

The best part is we may understand how good Ryan Zimmerman is going to be. The second-best part is we may again understand how good Joe DiMaggio was.

Zimmerman, the kid from the Washington Nationals, caught our attention there for a month. He hit in 30 consecutive games.

The streak ended Wednesday against the Giants. The streak ended with a standing ovation. From fans of the visiting team.

The streak ended with greater appreciation for Joe DiMaggio.

We don’t know much very about Joltin’ Joe these days. He came before ESPN and CNN and Twitter. He retired 58 years ago. But Ryan Zimmerman, age 24, knows all he needs to know about DiMaggio.

“Thirty games,” said Zimmerman, “makes you realize how much better 56 is than 30. What he did is pretty remarkable.”

What Zimmerman did, in his fourth season in the majors, also was remarkable. Not Joe DiMaggio remarkable, however. Not 56-game hitting streak remarkable. Not May to July remarkable. Not never-to-be-equaled remarkable.

“I don’t think that will ever be touched,” said Rich Aurilia. He is 37, a long-time member of the Giants, with 13 plus years of service. Been there, seen that.

“Too many different pitchers in a game these days,” said Aurilia. “You’ll face four different guys.”

The Giants, on Wednesday, indeed used four pitchers. Zimmerman faced only two. Starter Barry Zito got Zimmerman on ground balls twice and walked him twice, the second time, in what was thought to be Zimmerman’s last plate appearance, intentionally.

Then, because the Nats -- finally about to beat the Giants, 6-4, after nine straight defeats, two this season -- scored three times in the seventh, Zimmerman had one final chance, against Pat Misch in the top of the ninth.

But he grounded to shortstop Edgar Renteria for a fielder’s choice, and what had started April 8 was now finished, more to the distress of the 30,120 fans at AT&T Park than Zimmerman himself.

As he headed to the dugout, the spectators stood and applauded and cheered. For a visiting team’s player. For the game of baseball. The gesture was not unappreciated.

“They’ve got knowledgeable fans here,” Zimmerman said of the crowd’s response. “They know baseball. They love baseball, and it was special. Anytime you get people on the road telling you good luck and cheering for you, it means something. It was pretty cool.”

Pete Rose had a 44-game hitting streak in 1978, and there was one of 41 games by George Sisler in 1922. Paul Molitor of Milwaukee made it to 39 in 1987 and only a few years back, in the end of 2005 and start of 2006, Jimmy Rollins had 38 in a row.

So Zimmerman had a fine run. He made us recognize both his consistency and potential. “He helped put us on the map,” said Manny Acta, manager of the forlorn Nationals. Zimmerman also made us comprehend what DiMaggio accomplished. And he did it in San Francisco, DiMaggio’s hometown.

Watching from the press box Wednesday was 85-year-old Charlie Silveria, who grew up here, who as a 10-year-old watched DiMaggio, then with the San Francisco Seals, hit in a Pacific Coast League record 61 straight games in 1933.

Silveria joined Joe on the Yankees in the late 1940s and was Yogi Berra’s backup catcher. They talked about the old days. They didn’t talk much about streaks. “He was private,” reminded Silveria.

We never learned what DiMaggio thought of hitting in 56 straight major league games. We did learn what Ryan Zimmerman thought of hitting in 30.

“It was fun,” Zimmerman insisted. “I enjoyed it. I learned a lot going through the experience. To get a hit every single game for a month, there’s got to be a little bit of luck involved. But not wasting at bats, not swinging at bad pitches is hard to do. Every game, to put four good at bats together is not easy, especially against the talent you’re facing on the mound.”

Streaks sneak up on us and the individuals involved. A team wins three or four in a row, and it doesn’t mean much. But all of a sudden it’s 15 in a row, and everywhere you look a clubhouse is filled with cameras and reporters.

“I wasn’t really conscious until the media started following, about 20,” said Zimmerman. “I tried to keep it a secret as long as I could. I would have liked to keep going. I guess it will be nice to get back into the routine and not have to worry about it every day. But it was a lot of fun.”

For himself and everybody else.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009. 

- - - - - -

http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/05/ryan-zimmerman-reminds-of-joe-dimaggio.html
© RealClearSports 2009 

The City That Knows How, and knows baseball

SAN FRANCISCO -- They call it The City That Knows How. Ryan Zimmerman wouldn’t disagree. It’s also the city that, despite the digs about fans on cell phones or wandering about the park looking at the bay, knows baseball. And knows Ryan Zimmerman.

The streak, Zimmerman’s streak, came to an end Wednesday. It was halted at AT&T Park by several Giants pitchers, most notably Barry Zito.

In 30 straight games, Ryan Zimmerman, at age 24 one of the great young ones, had at least one base hit. Until Wednesday.

Zimmerman’s Washington Nationals finally beat the Giants, after nine consecutive defeats, two this season, whipped them, 6-3. And that softened some of the disappointment. After all the basis of sport is to win. But next to that, there always are numbers.

The Giants fans, and attendance was announced as 30,120, wanted a win. That didn’t happen. They also wanted Ryan Zimmerman, of the Washington Nats, to go on hitting. That didn’t happen either.

So, when Zimmerman in the top of the ninth hit a grounder, which San Francisco shortstop Edgar Renteria turned into a force play, when the hard reality had hit that Zimmerman would end the game without getting a hit, the crowd rose and applauded.

A standing ovation for a visiting player. A standing ovation for a rare achievement.

“They’ve got very knowledgeable fans out here,’’ Zimmerman said later in the clubhouse. “They know baseball. They love baseball, and it was special. Anytime you get people on the road telling you good luck and are cheering for you, it means something. It was pretty cool.’’

For more than a month, starting April 8, Zimmerman hadn’t played a game without getting at least one hit. Until he went 0-for-3 with a couple of walks. One of those walks, in the seventh inning with Nats on second and third, was intentional, but neither Zimmerman nor his manager, Manny Acta, was bitter about the tactic.

“I understand completely,’’ said Acta. “I would have done the same thing.’’

Ryan was the 26th player to hit in 30 consecutive games or more. Pete Rose got to 44 in 1978, which sounds like a lot until compared to the iconic mark of 56 straight by Joe DiMaggio in 1941.

DiMaggio was a San Franciscan, of course. Grew up here, as did his younger brother Dom, who died only the other day. A lot of these young athletes are unable to reference the legends of their sport, but Zimmerman knows full well who and what about his game, about our game.

“I almost snuck one through there in the ninth,’’ he said in reflection. “They made good pitches on me today. It’s tough to get hits. Thirty games makes you realize how much better 56 is than 30. But this was fun. I enjoyed it. I learned a lot going through the experience.

“You don’t usually have people on the road saying they hope you get a hit. It’s cool. I think that’s one of the best parts of sports. Fans actually appreciate the game whether you’re on their team or not.’’

They appreciate the game in the Bay Area. The garlic fries and the big glove in left and across the bay the world championship pennants flying at the Oakland Coliseum may be worthy of conversation. But the ones who show up in the stands are not merely spectators, they’re fans in every sense of the word.

They’ll cheer a well-placed sacrifice bunt as much as they will a double to left. They love hanging the letter “K’’ on the wall after every strikeout by a home pitcher. And they understood what Ryan Zimmerman was doing. His uniform didn’t matter. It was his play, his hitting, that counted.

“We want to thank the Giants fans,’’ said Acta, the Nats skipper. “What they did, the standing ovation, was very classy. You don’t get that everywhere you go.’’

The Nationals, the former Montreal Expos, have the worst record in the majors. The only time they had been mentioned was in the punch line of jokes, such as the one borrowed about the old Washington Senators built on George Washington: “First in war, first in peace, last in the National League.’’

Then Ryan Zimmerman started hitting. And until Wednesday didn’t stop.

“I think we’ve gotten a little of attention because of him,’’ Acta said. “It puts us on the map, what he did.’’

What he did was stunning, even for Zimmerman.

“To get a hit every single game, there’s got to be a little bit of luck involved,’’ said Zimmerman, “but not wasting at bats, not swinging at bad pitches is hard to do. Every game, to put four good at bats together is not easy, especially against the talent you’re facing on the mound.’’

Zimmerman did it for 30 straight games. It was worthy of a standing ovation from The City That Knows How.

SF Examiner: Let the Warriors' puppet show begin

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

OAKLAND — It was pretty much what you expected, this snatching of the keys from the man who no longer mattered and handing them to the guy who already had been opening the locks and obviously the eyes of the team president.

The Warriors on Tuesday, as promised (or should it be, as threatened?) officially installed Larry Riley as general manager in place of the obviously quite replaceable if still much admired Chris Mullin.

There were a few promises, a lot of words and a bit of skepticism, from the people with notepads and microphones, not from the two primary subjects, Robert Rowell, the Warriors prez who made the decision to dispose of Mullin and bring in Riley, or Riley, who talked as tough as he thought was required.

The three people who would have made the session considerably more entertaining — if not necessarily more enlightening — owner Chris Cohan, head coach Don Nelson and the deposed Mullin were not in attendance.

But you can’t have everything.

Of all the Bay Area pro sports franchises, a group that aside from the Sharks has been appallingly ineffective, the Warriors always have been the lovable losers. That’s meant figuratively, because for two seasons out of the last 15 they actually had winning records.

Only once in those 15, however, did they make the playoffs, and yet, a public that would boo the bejabbers out of the 49ers or Raiders — and has done so — meekly accepts the Warriors. So, went the thinking, why would management worry about improvement?

Because, insisted Rowell in the media session at Oracle Arena, losing is “unacceptable.”

Well, isn’t that a shocker?

Whether Riley can make a difference is the question, because his immediate predecessors, Mullin and Garry St. Jean, could not.

Right off, Rowell addressed the oft-whispered belief that Riley is Nelson’s “puppet,” because he has known and worked with Nellie through the years and once took a Texas-to-California journey in Nellie’s truck while he and Don “smoked cigars, chewed tobacco and listened to George Jones.”

“I don’t buy it,” Rowell said of the marionette suggestion. “You got to understand, I got a coach who will be 69 on Friday. ... He’s going to be the winningest coach in NBA history with just 24 wins next season. He’s quirky, unconventional, stubborn and hates to lose. I need someone in a position to lead this organization who understands our head coach.”

Truth be told, it doesn’t matter if Nelson pulls the strings, as long as the strings end up attached to some playing talent.

“He knows what he’s doing,” the 64-year-old Riley said of Nelson. “I’ll make decisions. I don’t have any problem doing that.”

Riley was seemingly already making decisions, an eminence grise behind the scenes, while Mullin was slipping off the GM chair.

Mully still is employed by the Warriors until June 30 when his contract expires, and “has responsibilities,” according to Rowell — whatever that means.

A wonderful player, a good guy and a so-so GM, Mully lost out in a power struggle in which he had all the struggle and none of the power. Anyone ready for the puppet show?

Art Spander has been covering Bay Area sports since 1965 and also writes on www.artspander.com and www.realclearsports.com. E-mail him at typoes@aol.com.

- - - - - -



 

http://www.sfexaminer.com/sports/Spander-Let-the-Warriors-puppet-show-begin-44854642.html
Copyright 2009 SF Newspaper Company 

RealClearSports: There’s No Mystery About Tiger

By Art Spander

The problem for the moment is not that Tiger Woods isn’t the same. It’s that we are the same. We keep thinking this is the Tiger of a couple years past, maybe even the Tiger who was a miracle worker last summer. But it isn’t.

It couldn’t be. And it won’t be for a while.

The surgery Tiger underwent last June a few days after he somehow performed the impossible, winning the U.S. Open on one leg, the reconstruction of the anterior cruciate ligament of the left knee, necessitates months of recovery.

In an athlete’s case, years.

Yet Woods is playing demanding, big-time golf 11 months in, perhaps against own best plans. And because Tiger didn’t win the Masters, and even more significantly, faded in The Players despite being paired with the collapsing leader, we’re dumbfounded.

In truth, we’re merely dumb.

Dr. Lanny Johnson, a pioneering orthopedic specialist who created the tools used in Tiger’s surgery, in September advised Woods not to return too quickly.

“Other forces will try and hurry Tiger back,” Johnson told the Daily Telegraph of London, “but he should take it easy… If you tear your cruciate ligament in football, you can play within a year, and with full confidence within two years. Based on this, and the recovery period of other athletes, I am guessing that Tiger will need two years.”

But he hasn’t had even one year. He won the Arnold Palmer Invitational at Bay Hill in March, only the third tournament he entered following the eight-month absence. In the five stroke-play events in which he’s competed, starting at Doral in mid-March, there’s no finish worse than ninth.

We want more, because we’ve known more. He wants more, although he understands why he doesn’t have more.

“I didn’t have the pop in my body, nor should I,” Woods said after coming in fourth at Quail Hollow, another place where the old Tiger, the pre-surgery Tiger, would have won, but this Tiger could not win.

“It takes time for anyone who has had reconstruction to come back and get the speed back and the agility and all those different things. Most athletes take over a year to get back. I’ve been able to get back sooner because of the nature of my sport.”

In which there is no running or leaping or contact. But in which there is considerable stress. Tiger’s not hitting his drives nearly as far. After the Masters, Phil Mickelson, who was with Tiger the final round at Augusta, joked with the Associated Press, “I had to keep waiting for him to hit.”

Tiger’s never hit his drives that straight. Now, shorter and even more erratic, he’s playing a different game than he played back then. The marvelous recovery shots – under trees, out of bunkers – still are there. The worry is he’s hitting one seemingly on every hole.

While Woods was gone, as Nike emphasized in its lighthearted commercial of its stable of golfers, others improved. They literally could look down a fairway instead of figuratively over their shoulders.

The others gained confidence. Surely, Tiger lost some, along with strength.

That Woods comprehends his own flaws doesn’t mean he is accepting of them. The anger at a poor shot was apparent. And after a round that failed to satisfy his own standards, Tiger cut short media time to rush to the practice ground.

What Tiger taught us in his greatness, and what should not be forgotten in his struggles, is he never is to be underestimated.

Tiger missed the cut at the 2006 U.S. Open after a nine-week layoff following his father’s death, the only time as a pro Woods didn’t play all four rounds in a major. While the doubters suggested he might be slipping, Tiger leaped back with victories in the British Open and PGA Championship.

It is a cliché now, Tiger insisting he wouldn’t enter any tournament unless he believed he would win. That doesn’t separate him from the rest, from Phil Mickelson or Geoff Ogilvy or, considering The Players, Henrik Stenson. These guys think they’ll finish first every time out.

You don’t modify your thinking, even if you have to modify your swing. The TPC Sawgrass Course, with its mounds and lakes and pines, always has been a challenge to Woods. He won there, won The Players, in 2001. But only then.

A course always troublesome for Tiger, a knee still far from totally recovered, and Woods, instead of a sub-par final round and a win, has a one-over par final round and eighth place.

He isn’t the same. But he will be. After all, he’s Tiger Woods.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

- - - - - -

http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/05/no-mystery-about-tiger.html

© RealClearSports 2009

Mullin better than Warriors deserved

OAKLAND -- It wasn’t exactly man-bites-dog stuff, the firing of Chris Mullin as the Golden State Warriors’ general manager. It was inevitability becoming fact.

Mullin, the lamest of lame ducks, got caught in what either was the saddest or funniest of sporting tragicomedies, sort of a Three Stooges version of “Hamlet.’’

For the past year, Mully wasn’t exactly a dead man walking, but through machinations among those above him (team president Robert Rowell) and around him (head coach Don Nelson), Chris had lost everything but his integrity.

Why this came about could perhaps be explained by those knowledgeable in Freudian theory or Communist theory, but there was no denying what had taken place, despite the denials or the silence.

On Monday afternoon, the Warriors, in one of those euphemistically phrased announcements, said “the club has elected not to renew’’ the contract of the 45-year-old Mullin, which expires June 30, and had replaced him with his 64-year-old assistant, Larry Riley.

Who is a pal of Nelson’s and who for the past few months has been in control of an operation most would agree is out of control.

Mullin had been elevated to vice president of basketball operations, or GM, in April 2004, a decision that at the time seemed both logical and intelligent. One of the Warriors’ stars of the late 1980s and early 1990s, Chris worked his way through the front office, showing skill and intelligence.

But along the way, he and Rowell had disagreements. And as others have found throughout history, in that sort of situation, the boss, the guy who in effect signs the checks, always wins.

Mullin already was semi-ostracized by the time the great Monta Ellis caper took place last summer, not long after the guard signed a huge contract.

Ellis, at home in Mississippi, incurred a severe ankle injury -- he said playing pickup basketball but what in actuality was caused by a moped accident.

Rowell, angry and vindictive, wanted to deduct a large amount, several million, from the new $66 million contract, contending through the accident Ellis violated terms of the deal and implying that Monta’s long departure (he didn’t play until January) cheated season-ticket holders who thought Monta would be on the court, not in rehab.

However, Mullin, the ex-player, was more sympathetic, figuring the pain, physical and mental -- and maybe some actual guilt -- was more than enough punishment.

This came shortly after Mullin tried to re-sign the man who had become the face of the franchise, Baron Davis, while Rowell steadfastly refused to give Baron a salary reportedly around $18 million to $19 million a year.

Surely, the disagreements over both Davis and Ellis drove the wedge between Mullin and Rowell to where there could never be reconciliation.

And there won’t be.

“It’s never an easy decision to make a change,’’ was Rowell’s comment on the dispatching of Mullin. “This case is compounded by the fact it involves Chris Mullin -- someone who has provided Bay Area fans with many great memories over the years, as both a player and executive.

“He’s a class individual who will always be remembered for his accomplishments with the Warriors organization.’’

Oh yes, a lot of praise as they figuratively toss you out the door.

While there may not have been much surprise, there is among some a great deal of disappointment. Chris Mullin, until he understandably went into hiding a few months back -- if you have nothing to do, why hang around? -- basically was an upfront guy.

Whether he was a good general manager can be argued. He gave big contracts to people such as Adonal Foyle, Derek Fisher and Mike Dunleavy, but managed to slip out of those.

Mullin traded to New Orleans to get Davis, and that transaction was the key to the Warriors in 2006-07 making the playoffs for the first time in 13 seasons and stunning the Dallas Mavericks in the first round.

But Mullin also hired Mike Montgomery from Stanford to be the Warriors’ coach. Montgomery never got the attention of the pros, particularly Baron Davis. On came Don Nelson, out of retirement, to replace Montgomery.

The new GM, Larry Riley, is a Nelson man, if that means anything. A few days ago, Nellie conceded he wasn’t sure who was making the team’s preparations for next month’s draft.

It wasn’t Chris Mullin. Even before he was out, he was on the outs. The Warriors, who had a 29-53 record this past season (Ellis’ injury and Baron’s departure were blamed), are once again waddling in confusion.

Chris Mullin may not miss all that transpired the last few months, the uncertainty, the power struggle, but we’ll miss Chris Mullin. He was better than the Warriors deserved.

A’s show life on Geren’s ejection, Giambi’s homers

OAKLAND -- The manager finally showed some life. So did his first baseman. Not the afternoon the Oakland Athletics had wished, but one that offered a great deal of possibility, and in May baseball that is not to be underestimated.

Bob Geren got bounced. Indeed, the guy in charge of the A’s, the man who seemingly never displays any emotion, who treats the old national pastime as if he were wearing a suit and tie rather than a uniform, was ejected.

“It was nice to see Bob support his players,’’ said Jason Giambi. It was nicer to see Giambi have his first multi-home run game since last June, when he hit the 398th and 399th of his career.

All that, the excitement, the ejection, the long balls, only proved to be diversionary, as the Toronto Blue Jays beat the A’s 6-4 on Saturday, before only 15,817 at the Oakland Coliseum. The Athletics did virtually zilch until the ninth -- for a while they had more errors (two) than hits (one), when at least they rallied enough to get the winning run to first with two outs.

A’s general manager Billy Beane likes his non-playing employees to not to lose their cool -- in other words to be the opposite of the Billy Martins and Earl Weavers. Not much for the TV cameras or journalists seeking inflammatory quotes, but that’s the way it is. And Geren, pleasant, informed, is the way he is.

It was the way home plate umpire Paul Nauert was that irritated A’s cleanup batter Matt Holliday, who having been called out on strikes on a questionable pitch in the first was agitated when he was called out on strikes on a questionable pitch in the seventh.

When Holliday started arguing, Geren jogged from the dugout, said something to Nauert and with the ump’s theatrical wave of the arm and thumb was tossed.

“I didn’t really ask for an explanation,’’ Geren would say later. “I just told my part of the call. But you can’t argue balls and strikes. There wasn’t much to it.’’

There’s a great deal to Giambi’s best day since he was signed by Oakland in January with the thought he might bring back some of the magic from 2000 and 2001 before he joined the Yankees. Jason was hitting only .202 and had just one homer in 26 games.

Then, Saturday after a walk and strikeout against Toronto starter Brian Tallet, Giambi homered off Tallet in the seventh and off Scott Downs in the ninth.

“I’m swinging the bat better and better,’’ said Giambi. “I swung it good the other night, but I didn’t get any hits. That’s part of the process. You can’t worry about results. You just have to worry about the ingredients.’’

For some, the worry was that the 38-year-old Giambi had lost bat speed, that after the injuries and the steroid use, he had been down a road too extended and too hard to allow him to recapture the past.

The 399 home runs? “It means I’ve played the game a long time,’’ said Giambi. Indeed, he arrived in the majors in 1995. “I’m hoping to get this team going. That’s what I’m here for, to help lead this team in the right direction.’’

Neither Giambi nor the A’s have succeeded so far. Oakland did have a two-game win streak, after four straight defeats, but against the Jays it was down quickly. Yes, the rally indicated the A’s haven’t quit. But something more than tenacity and hustle are needed when you’re in last place in the American League West.

The A’s wore their awful-looking black jerseys Saturday, and while  laundry never will be as important as the players who wear it, the franchise has too much history to go around looking like the Rays or Marlins. Especially when the Athletics’ home whites are as classy as any baseball attire.

You wouldn’t see the Yankees or Dodgers in black at home (or on the road), so the A’s should dispense with the idea and the jerseys.

What Geren said the rest of us should get rid of is the belief that Giambi still can’t hit a baseball.

“Ever since a week ago in Seattle, when he hit a ball to the opposite field about as far as you can, 420 feet, without leaving the stadium, his swing has been shorter, crisper.

“Reaching 399 home runs is quite a milestone. Just to play in the major leagues 10 years is very hard to accomplish. And he’s averaged a lot of home runs, almost 40 a year. That’s tremendous.’’

Two homers for one man and an ejection for another. Now that’s baseball we haven’t seen from the A’s for a long while.

Raiders’ first pick is a first-class guy

ALAMEDA, Calif. — In person, Darrius Heyward-Bey didn’t look bad and sounded good. The most disparaged, berated, criticized individual in pro football who never had played a game was wonderfully slick and carefully glib.

Heyward-Bey spent a few hours showing his moves on a morning of sunshine and curiosity, and then followed that up with a few minutes showing his intelligence.

Not a tart word or an angry thought about those who deem his selection in the first round by the Oakland Raiders nothing short of blasphemy.

For the past two weeks, since the draft, observers who weren’t wringing their hands — “How could the Raiders take this guy when they had a chance at Michael Crabtree?’’ — wanted to wring someone’s (yes, Al Davis’) neck. It was if football had been profaned.

“Everybody wants to get you when you’re down,’’ said Raiders coach Tom Cable when asked to explain what some saw as a greater national scandal than the economy. “People get upset when you do something they think you shouldn’t do.’’

What the Raiders did, of course, was with the No. 7 pick in the draft take Heyward-Bey, who was a junior at Maryland, who caught passes for only 600 yards and who has brilliant speed, but that apparently didn’t enter into the equation — except, as always, for Al Davis.

Saturday was the first day of the rest of Heyward-Bey’s life, minicamp for a franchise that, after six consecutive losing seasons, needs a maximum of help. He was out there with the big guys, JaMarcus Russell at quarterback, Nnamdi Asomugha, the all-pro, at cornerback.

Then while a continuous loop of videotape ran on a television screen above him, the Raiders’ ingenious method of proving Heyward-Bey can catch the ball as well as run with it, Heyward-Bey faced the media and the music. He departed leaving an impression.

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. Maybe, as the analysts predict, Heyward-Bey will be a bust. Then again, listening to the young man (he’s 22) after watching him, one is struck with a surprising thought: He might be the next Bay Area superstar.

It isn’t only talent that elevates an athlete into that rare position, although you don’t qualify without having a great deal of that. You also need personality, an ability to handle an interview as smoothly as a deep pattern. You need a smidgen of arrogance and a great deal of confidence. You need a sense of humor. And to make it all work, you need a topping of self-deprecation.

If the sit-down after his first practice is an indication, Heyward-Bey has all of the above, at least off the field. And he believes he has what is required on the field, too. Naturally.

“It wasn’t strange to me,’’ said Heyward-Bey, when someone wondered about the controversy created by his draft selection. “Things like that happen all the time. But I was happy to be a Raider. I know Al Davis and the rest of the coaching staff made a great choice.

“All I can do is worry about me. My attitude was going to be the same whether I was the first pick in the draft or the last pick in the draft or a free agent. I was going to work hard, regardless.’’

Cable hasn’t commiserated with Heyward-Bey, who didn’t arrive in town until Friday. The player said he doesn’t need happy talk. “He called me,’’ Heyward-Bey said of the coach, “and said he had my back. I felt good enough with that . . . you can run through mountains when a coach tells you that.’’

Mountains he doesn’t need to conquer. Rather it’s the doubts of the non-believers. The Sporting News Today gave the Raiders a grade of D, adding, “Bad teams can’t make mistakes such as WR Darrius Heyward-Bey and S Michael Mitchell.’’ Another scouting service awarded the Raiders an F.

“My mom doesn’t understand,’’ said Heyward-Bey. “It doesn’t bother me at all. You brush it off and keep working. That’s what we’re born to do.’’

When it was pointed out he and Crabtree, picked by the 49ers, might be linked competitively as Kobe Bryant and LeBron James are, Heyward-Bey quickly answered, “I don’t think we’re like Kobe and LeBron yet. I’ve just got to worry about getting into the playbook and making the team.’’

What he made was a leaping catch and a couple of adjustments on routes, as both JaMarcus and Jeff Garcia threw to him and other receivers.

“Every time you’re in there,’’ said Heyward-Bey, “you want to think you’re a starter and hold on to the spot as long as you can, and don’t want to be starstruck with all those big-name guys, You want to feel part of the group, and they made me feel right at home.’’

And his reaction after his first workout as a Raider? “I didn’t pass out, so that was good.’’

This kid is a comer.

RealClearSports: Manny being a mess

By Art Spander

OAKLAND –- Manny? He’s sorry. Maybe not as sorry as the Dodgers. Maybe not as sorry as baseball. Still, he’s sorry. And he’s been advised not to say anything more. Which is always the way when somebody breaks the rules.

Let an agent talk –- are you out there, Scott Boras? Let an attorney talk.

Athletes were playing ball Thursday afternoon at the Oakland Coliseum. Not Manny, although he and his drug suspension were the only things people seemed to want to discuss. The Texas Rangers and Oakland A’s were going at it in the sunshine.

Manny Ramirez was down the coast, in southern California. And down for the count. Or more specifically, 50 games.

John Madden could have summarized this one beautifully: “Boom.’’ A story that hit like a bomb. A story that made us wonder, who next? A story that, after all the agony of the Yankees’ and Mets’ ticket blunders, of Alex Rodriguez’s drug involvement, trumps all the rest of the negative material with one big blow.

Manny gone until the beginning of July. What’s going to happen to sales of those dreadlocks wigs in the stands at Dodger Stadium? What’s going to happen to the Dodgers?

With Manny in the lineup, they literally had been unbeatable at home, 13 out of 13. With Manny in the lineup, they had compiled the best record in the majors.

Barry Bonds never was suspended. A-Rod hasn’t been suspended. But Manny was given 50 games for failing a drug test, which proves both that baseball is serious in cleansing its sport of the doubt and disgrace and that Manny is either arrogant or ignorant.

Ramirez said the drug violation was due not to a steroid but a medication from a doctor, “which he thought was OK to give me. Unfortunately the medication is banned under our drug policy . . . I do want to say I’ve taken and passed about 15 drug tests the past five seasons.’’

He didn’t pass this one. A man with a two-year, $45 million contract, a man who almost single-handedly carried the Dodgers to the 2008 postseason after they traded for him in July, a man batting .348 after Wednesday night when he doubled in two runs, got smacked and hard.

They must be laughing and exchanging high fives in Boston. And exhaling in San Francisco, not that the Giants, even with frequent rumors, were a particularly strong candidate to get Manny last winter when he became a free agent. He was worth too much to the Dodgers. And worth more than the Giants could ever pay.

A healthy Manny, an unsuspended Manny, is a winner, a player who turns teams into champions. The Red Sox couldn’t win a World Series, if you don’t revert to 1918, until they got Ramirez. Then they won twice in four years.

Juan Pierre takes over in the Dodgers outfield for Manny. Not exactly the power or the personality. But a body that isn’t under suspension. Or suspicion. A dropoff in talent, but an improvement in eligibility.

All February, the questions swirled about the Dodgers. Would they finally give Manny, and Boras the agent, what they wanted? Would they be successful in re-signing the irrepressible Ramirez, who had made them successful? Finally, a couple weeks into spring training, the Dodgers made the announcement. They were whole once more.

No longer. Not for another two months. The guy who dominates the cover of their media guide, indeed the guy who dominates Dodger opponents, arguably the biggest bat this side of Albert Pujols, is banned from the game.

The sport’s balance is tipped. The Dodgers are more than Manny, certainly. You don’t start the way they’ve started without other star players. Yet they will be less without Manny.

As Bonds, when Barry was at his best, Ramirez is a difficult out, less troublesome with an intentional walk than a pitch that could be driven to the fences or over them. A week and a half ago, in a game against the Giants, Manny walked in his first two plate appearances and doubled in his next three.

After Bonds, after Mark McGwire, after Rafael Palmeiro, after the warnings and the threats, the presumption is that players understand they are responsible for what ends up in their bodies, even if they contend they have no idea how it got there.

A month ago, Jose Canseco, self-professed steroid user, at an appearance at the University of Southern California, said Ramirez’s name “is most likely 90 percent’’ on a list of 104 players who failed a drug test in 2003.

It sounded like bluster. Instead, it was dead accurate.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

- - - - - -

http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/05/manny-being-a-mess.html
© RealClearSports 2009

Cust becomes A’s designated viewer and slammer

OAKLAND -- Jack Cust isn’t much different from a lot of men who love baseball, other than the fact he can hit one over a fence. Jennifer Cust isn’t much different from a lot of wives whose husbands probably spend too much time around the game, even if it’s the game where Jack makes his living.

Cust is the Oakland Athletics’ designated hitter, if he’s not playing outfield. On Wednesday night, in the A’s 3-2 loss to Texas, Cust went 3-for-4 and then returned to his residence and watched highlights on ESPN.

Not of his game -- of the Dodgers’ game in Los Angeles.

“I slowed down Manny Ramirez’s swing,’’ Cust said, alluding to recording and playing back the sequence, “and I show it to my wife. She said, ‘Enough of this baseball stuff. You’re playing all day and then you come home and show me Manny Ramirez’s swing on TV?’ She’d had it.’’

We know what happened a few hours later to Ramirez. He was suspended for 50 games after failing a drug test. What happened to Cust not long after, Thursday afternoon, was he hit a grand slam to get the A’s rolling in their 9-4 win over the Rangers at the Coliseum.

Cust thus became the focus of journalists who wanted to know about his homer and naturally about Manny’s figurative fall. Cust wasn’t terribly enlightening about either, but that was acceptable. His requirement is to help unleash the A’s offense, and in the previous three games that hadn’t happened.

“There’s not a lot of pressure on a hitter when you have the bases loaded and nobody out,’’ said Cust, describing his at bat in the fourth. “You’re just trying to hit the ball in the air (for a sacrifice fly). I wasn’t trying to hit a home run.’’

But when he did, the dugout of an A’s team that had scored 13 runs in the previous three games combined became energized.  “You could feel the excitement,’’ said Cust after his second career slam. “It was something we hadn’t had for a while.

Not after four straight defeats -- three to open their home stand. In the warmth of the best weather by the Bay in two weeks, things suddenly become more encouraging.

Asked the obligatory question on his feelings about Ramirez, Cust said, “Well, we’ve got Alex (Rodriguez) and Manny, now, two of the best hitters who ever played (both having failed tests). People are going to have questions. You don’t know about anybody, including our favorite players when we were growing up.’’

What we know about Cust is on DH days, which means most of the time, he has his own in-game agenda. Thursday it kept him from seeing very much of teammate Trevor Cahill getting his first major league victory.

Cahill had made five starts and pitched decently in four of them, but his record was 0-2. At last he got off the schneid in a game in which Cahill didn’t walk anyone and allowed only five hits in seven innings.

“He looked good,’’ said Cust of Cahill. “But honestly I wasn’t watching him. When I’m DH I don’t watch much of the game. I just kind of watch our at bats and then go to the video room to watch my swing and how their pitcher is throwing to the other guys. Really, it kind of stinks, because I enjoy watching both sides of the game, enjoy playing defense.

“I saw some of his strikeouts, a lot of stuff. But I also didn’t see lot of stuff.’’

Cust, however, was watching when in the bottom of the fourth Matt Holliday, apparently out of the doldrums, hit a three-run homer to left.

“I was on deck,’’ said Cust. “When he hit it, I knew it was out. Then it hung up for a while, and I said, ‘Oh, oh, I hope that gets out.’ It did. I’m happy for him, because Matt has worked as hard as anybody. He’s a great teammate. You wouldn’t know he’s been struggling.’’

Holliday had been down to a .222 batting average. He’s now .233 and moving in what he believes is the proper direction.

“We’re humans, and confidence is always an issue,’’ said Holliday, a lifetime .319 hitter signed as a free agent. “But enough of us have had careers where our past indicates it’s there and eventually it’s going to come out. It’s been frustrating. You feel you’re not helping the team. But I promise you, I’ve been doing all I can.’’

Short of videotaping Manny Ramirez’s swing.

RealClearSports: A Volume on A-Rod Is a Yawn

By Art Spander

Another book about another baseball player whose lifestyle was something other than visiting orphans and signing autographs. Once again, America turns out to be the land of the free and the home of the disgraced athlete.

Anyone care?

Alex Rodriguez maybe was feeling a bit rejected, what with Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens the only ones to have volumes about their off-field activities. Not any more. Alex gets his own pages of accusations and intimations.

Selena Roberts, formerly of the New York Times, currently of Sports Illustrated – and are there any two more impressive journalistic connections? – has produced “A-Rod: The Many Lives of Alex Rodriguez.” She was allowed.

Just as we are allowed to shrug.

The problem with books about athletes used to be they made every subject sound like a blending of St. Francis of Assisi and Sir Francis Drake. Even Ty Cobb was made to appear charming and kindly in a first biography. Then a second showed him to be the louse he truly was – not that he couldn’t hit a fastball.

We do the full 180. Now the books detail everything from a man’s immoralities to his phobias and fantasies. In a world full of Dr. Phils and Jerry Springers, it’s the only way to sell. You are obligated to offer something more appalling, and presumably compelling, than seen on TV.

So, “Game of Shadows,” created after brilliant investigative reporting by Mark Fainaru-Wada and Lance Williams, hit the stands and whacked Bonds. For about 10 minutes there was outrage. Then we returned to our normal programming. Hey, who’s batting third?

A book on A-Rod’s contretemps was inevitable. Virtually all the publishing houses are in New York. A-Rod, when he’s not rehabbing, is in New York. Something like 15 million people are in New York. The tabloids are in New York. Was there ever a more likely scenario for several hundred pages on performance-enhancing steroids, performance-enhanced Madonna and a ball player reputed to not perform when it matters?

Interestingly enough, in a town where journalists usually jump onto a scandal without caution or question, some of the sporting writers, while not doubting their colleague Roberts, have asked about a few details in the book.

Neil Best of Newsday reminds that Roberts in an interview said much of her evidence of A-Rod after 2003 is circumstantial.

It’s been a fine few months for those (see reference to New York’s 15 millions) who find fulfillment reading about the woes of the Yankees. Tom Verducci and Joe Torre combined to knock the team the tabs call The Bombers. Then there’s the book about Roger Clemens, “American Icon.” And now – please don’t doze off – A-Rod.

Who’s next, Nick Swisher?

Not that we don’t believe in fair play, the so-called level field, but we’ve reached our quotient of shock and awe. And probably of interest. Every day brings a new allegation. Bud Selig seems to be the only one surprised, and you’ve seen how he’s responded.

Sport is supposed to be the last place in society where people must follow the rules. Three strikes, you’re out. A game goes nine innings. No matter what a defense lawyer argues. That’s why the use of steroids finally became an issue no one could ignore.

But we’re in the Commissioner-Who-Didn’t-Cry-Wolf stage of the situation. No matter what we hear or read, or even see, we’re numb. A-Rod on drugs? Well, then we'll have to idolize Albert Pujols.

Yankees manager Joe Girardi, saying exactly what we’d expect him to say, explained, “I don’t want this Alex thing to be a target because I have some issues with it. It’s interesting how the book date got moved up, and I get tired of answering these questions. I don’t understand why somebody would write a book like this anyway.”

Girardi understands. You write a book because (a) you have a story to tell and (b) because you want to make money from the book. Nothing wrong in either case. Nothing right – or write – either.

Terry Francona, the manager of the Red Sox, who have been embarrassing the Yankees of late more than any book possibly could, naturally was asked if he had thoughts on the volume.

“What I care about,’’ Francona responded, “is when (Alex) comes back, I hope he makes outs against us.”

If that is the case, it will disturb Yankee partisans more than anything in any book. Fans never are into ethics and principles as much as they are into winning and losing.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.  

- - - - - -

http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/05/volume-on-a-rod-a-yawn.html
© RealClearSports 2009

SF Examiner: The A’s are a franchise without an identity

The A’s ridiculous “we’re Houdini and you’re not” attempt at illusion in trying to make us believe the upper deck at the Coliseum doesn’t exist — the seats are covered with tarps — symbolizes what has happened to a franchise once the model of excellence.

The A’s, insisting they would build a ballpark in Fremont, then hinting they might move to Portland or Vegas (or was it Machu Picchu?), and concurrently failing to do what is most important, put a winner on the field, have become virtually invisible.

Who are the A’s? What are the A’s? Do they have a future? Is it destined every star player under contract will show up on the disabled list? Do they need a new stadium more than a new direction? What happened to the magic of “Moneyball,” the parsimonious philosophy of general manager Billy Beane?

And most importantly, does anybody but a loyal minority care about any of the questions?

Baseball is not a sport to be parsed out, but rather analyzed over what we’ve been told is the long season. Good players have bad weeks. Not-so-good players have great weeks. The same for teams.

Yet, the first month of 2009 has done nothing to reassure those wonderful, and very few, partisans who wave flags and toot horns out in the bleachers at home games that this season will be an improvement over the last two — in the standings or at the gate.

Lew Wolff is listed in the team’s media directory as the managing general partner, so in theory, he’s the one in charge. But aside from insulting, in no particular order, the city of Oakland and the A’s fans, exactly what has he done?

Across the Bay, the Giants are not going to be winning any championships, but they at least appear headed for respectability. Where are the A’s headed? They tried to add to the offense by signing Matt Holliday and bringing back Jason Giambi. But after Monday night, Holliday was hitting .223 and Giambi .218.

There’s a recession going on, and the weather is the worst at the beginning of May in modern memory. Maybe that’s why Monday night the A’s, opening a home stand, drew a crowd announced at only 10,397. By game’s end, maybe only 800 were still around.

Comcast has this advertising gimmick, in which on billboards it lists guys such as Holliday and Giambi without a key vowel — “J-son Gi-mbi” —  advising we can find the A’s on their network.

If not, maybe we can look in the upper deck.

A’s front office personnel said for the past year or so, at least until the idea went poof, that with the new ballpark in Fremont, the team would be able to sign and keep its best players. Then again, with Eric Chavez and numerous others on the DL, it might never be able to keep them on the field.

Will there ever be a new stadium? Will there ever be an A’s team able to stay healthy? Will there ever be a reason to think baseball will survive in the East Bay? Maybe we can find out by removing the tarps.

Art Spander has been covering Bay Area sports since 1965 and also writes on www.artspander.com and www.realclearsports.com. E-mail him at typoes@aol.com.

What’s happened to the A’s Matt Holliday?

OAKLAND --  And the Angels didn’t even have Vladimir Guerrero. The question is whether the Athletics have Matt Holliday.

Vlad is on the disabled list with a torn right pectoral muscle, on the well-known DL, made infamous almost hourly by the A’s.

Guerrero has been out for three weeks. He’s the Angels’ big gun, but if they miss him, you wouldn’t know it from what happened at the Mausoleum -– sorry, the Coliseum –- on Monday night.

That’s because the A’s miss Matt Holliday, who was supposed to be their main bat. Holliday was in the lineup, physically, but where is he mentally?

Everyone is entitled to a bad game or three. But this is two imperfectos in a row for Holliday, signed by Oakland a couple of months back with such great fervor and plenty of expectations.

Matt went 0-for-4 on Monday as the A’s were beaten by the Angels.  After going 0-for-7 on Sunday in that awful 15-inning, 8-7 loss at Seattle.

Meaning heading into Game 2 of the two-game series against the “We don’t want to be in Anaheim so we’ll defy geography and say we’re from Los Angeles’’ Angels, Holliday is a tidy 0-for-11.

Somebody associated with the Colorado Rockies, Holliday’s former team, intimated last weekend when the Rocks were across the Bay at AT&T that Holliday knows he’s going to traded by the A’s and doesn’t really care what’s happening at the moment.

What’s happening is a man with a .319 lifetime major league average is batting .223. Even for someone reputedly known to be a slow starter, that isn’t very good. In fact, it’s terrible.

“He had a long game (Sunday),’’ the A’s Bob Geren said of Holliday in the sort of expected defense the manager might make of a star who’s not showing much offense.

“(Monday) Saunders pitched him tough. He tied up a lot of our hitters.’’

Indeed, Joe Saunders, who allowed six hits and struck out seven, dominated the A’s. But at least catcher Kurt Suzuki, batting leadoff, homered and Orlando Cabrera delivered a couple of singles and a run. All Holliday had were a couple of foul pops, a fly to right and, in the eighth against Jose Arrendondo, a called third strike.

This game painfully recalled that awful era of the late 1970s A’s. The announced attendance was a pitiful 10,397. When a brief shower hit the area in the sixth, many in the –- dare we use the word “crowd”? -- moved back under the overhang of the second and third decks.

At the final out, 9:41 p.m., maybe 800 people remained, and every shout could be heard not only across the stadium but probably all the way to San Leandro.

Brett Anderson was the A’s starter, but if it wasn’t enough trouble facing Mike Napoli (two doubles and two singles) and Chone Figgins (three singles), Anderson had a blister on the index finger of his pitching hand, the left.

“It was worse when I threw the fastball or changeup,’’ said Anderson, who came out in the fifth after giving up all the Angels’ runs. “There wasn’t any pain. But the ball caught on the skin.’’

It’s always something with the A’s. Eric Chavez and Nomar Garciaparra on the DL. Jack Cust striking out in all four of his at bats. Anderson’s record falling to 0-3.

The A’s are last in AL West. The Angels, the favorites, next to last. “Standings are your report card,’’ conceded Angels manager Mike Scioscia, “but that’s not your focus. Each game is. If you’re getting a B in biology, are you going to try and fail your next next test?’’

The middle of the A’s lineup, Holliday included, has been failing its test. Jason Giambi, who did have a single, is batting .218; Holliday, as you know, .223; Cust, 266; Bobby Crosby, who also had two hits, .222, and Travis Buck, .182. Toss in everyone else, and the A’s are last in the American League with a combined .237 average.That means the A’s pitchers, with blisters or without, must keep the opponent virtually scoreless, a virtual impossibility.

“I don’t think that game Sunday had any effect,’’ Geren said of Monday’s loss. “We got home early enough. We bounced back. It’s just that Saunders was hitting his spots. He doesn’t seem to give away too many pitches.’’

That understood, you wonder if and when the A’s plan to give away Matt Holliday. His first month in Oakland has been less than success.

RealClearSports: No Boos for Bonds

By Art Spander

He had come back for the first time this season.

Barry Bonds had returned to the one place he is embraced, not despised. The Bay Area’s last superstar was in the front row at AT&T Park, next to the managing general partner of the San Francisco Giants, waving and smiling.

What a difference a uniform makes. “Laundry” is what Jerry Seinfeld said. Our guys are great. Your guys stink. Wait. Our guy used to be your guy, didn’t he?

For the Giants, their guy, Bonds, started out a long while ago in Pittsburgh, where, as in most of baseball in recent times, he was treated with disdain.

A cheater? A steroid user? A perjurer? Those are the claims against Bonds, and the reasons that, as his career wound down and the home run totals went up, Barry was booed virtually everywhere.

Except San Francisco.

Where this season, the fans have taken to booing Manny Ramirez, who has never been accused of anything similar to Bonds’ sins, but plays for the franchise that drives San Francisco partisans to frustration, the Los Angeles Dodgers.

The Dodgers, hailed and hated, came to San Francisco for a three-game series. Bonds came out of, well, it might not have been hiding – but he does spend his days down in Beverly Hills – to be a willing viewer and to be willingly viewed.

There was Barry, in the seat adjoining that of the individual in charge of the Giants, Bill Neukom, receiving a standing ovation. There was Manny on the diamond, receiving derision for no reason other than he’s Manny. And a Dodger.

Although during the winter, when Manny was a free agent, there was talk he might even sign with the Giants. Which would have made him the new idol in a region that without Bonds, without Joe Montana, Steve Young, Jose Canseco, Jim Plunkett, is bereft of idols.

And so Bonds is remembered fondly. He is the symbol of better days, of headlines and cover stories, of the recognition the Giants, and the region, no longer receive.

Neukom was the lead attorney for Microsoft for nearly a quarter-century. And there he was, schmoozing with someone who has been indicted on perjury, although mostly because the U.S. government, which ought to be more concerned with other matters, is out to get Bonds.

Barry never could have been described as an extrovert, not in dealing with the media. Or should that be not dealing with the media? Yet, from his seat near the Giants’ dugout, Bonds easily moved upstairs to the booth where Mike Krukow and Duane Kuiper do the local telecasts.

Barry communicator. Barry politician. Barry tortured saint.

After the 2007 season, having raised his all-time career home run total to 762, Bonds was not offered a new contract by the Giants. He could hit, but he couldn’t run or throw. He didn’t play in 2008 and, despite insisting he is not retired, surely never will play again.

He’s tainted, and baseball is attempting to step away from the steroids era, so why link up with a bad memory? Bonds, who will be 45 in July, also has slowed.

Is he worth a contract, even ignoring the baggage, which nobody will ignore? Seemingly not, or Barry already would have been on somebody’s roster, presumably a team in the American League where Barry could be a designated hitter.

It would have been interesting to see Barry with, say, the Yankees or Angels, to hear how the fans reacted now that he was on their club. To hear how the San Francisco fans reacted when he was in a different uniform.

In the early 1980s, Reggie Smith was the Manny Ramirez of his time. For Giants fans. One game at old Candlestick Park, they taunted him so much he literally climbed into stands to go after a spectator. Then Smith came to the Giants, a free agent, before the 1982 season. The same people who agitated Smith to a point he wanted to punch them out were now his pals, chanting “Reggie, Reggie, Reggie.”

Mark Twain said politicians, old buildings and prostitutes become respectable with old age. So seemingly do ballplayers, even in the minds of those who wished them ill when they were competing. We are forgiving, especially when it comes to sports.

The farther Bonds moves away from his active days, the more accepted he will be, although at the moment, the one truly safe haven remains San Francisco.

Up here, Bonds is a hero. It’s Manny who is the villain.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

- - - - - -

http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/04/no-boos-for-bonds.html
© RealClearSports 2009

April anything but cruel to the Giants

SAN FRANCISCO -- April is done for the Giants. The cruelest month. But not this April. Not these Giants. They’re where they never were last year. Not once. They’re even, at .500, 10-10, and heading into May.

There may not be a pennant, but there is progress.

In 2008, the Giants lost their first two games and never caught up. Never squared their record in the remaining 160. In 2008 the Giants were a bad team, a terrible team. Who knows what kind of a team they’ll be in 2009, but the possibility is encouraging.

They beat the Dodgers on Wednesday night. Again. Defeated the hailed and hated Dodgers, 9-4. Two out of three and a series win. “Beat L.A., beat L.A.’’ The chant reverberated through AT&T Park on a yet another cold but satisfying night for a crowd announced at 37,717.

The Giants had pitching, or so we wanted to believe. And indeed that’s what they’ve had with Tim Lincecum, who retired the first 10 Dodgers, who took a shutout into the eighth, who won his second game. They’ve had Matt Cain, Randy Johnson, Jonathan Sanchez, Barry Zito and in the bullpen Brian Wilson, who was a wobbly finisher but earned a save.

It turns out, to our surprise, they also have hitting. Not Yankee or Red Sox hitting. Not even Dodgers hitting, what with Manny Ramirez in L.A. But more hitting than we imagined.

Hitting from shortstop Edgar Rentaria, who had three singles and a double. Hitting from Bengie Molina who had a homer, triple, single and four runs batted in. Hitting from Juan Uribe, Nate Schierholtz and Emmanuel Burriss, who each had two hits of the Giants total of 15.

“I don’t know if we’ll be doing this all the time,’’ said Bruce Bochy, the Giants manager, of the offense. “We’ve got to pitch and catch the ball. We see ourselves having close games. But this was a good one.’’

It was one that closed a month that began with the Giants, after six straight defeats, at 2-7. “After our losing skid,’’ agreed Bochy, “this showed our resiliency. It was good for our ball club. These guys had some tough losses, but they bounced back.’’

You can’t get greedy. But the Giants did have a chance to win Tuesday night and sweep. And before the first pitch Wednesday, Dodgers manager Joe Torre understood that quite well. Losing to Zito in the opener on Monday and then a defeat Tuesday would have been big trouble for L.A., with Lincecum, the Cy Young Award winner, going for San Francisco.

“(Tuesday) night was huge,’’ Torre said. “We’re facing Lincecum tonight. He’s so good.’’

Especially against the Dodgers. Lincecum now is 3-0 when L.A. is the opponent. Wednesday night he struck out eight and has 33 strike outs in his last three starts, a span of 23 innings.

“This was big,’’ said Bochy. “Especially after a tough loss. We had Tim on the mound, and the offense was swinging the bats. It did look like one of our easier games, but the Dodgers are a very good team.’’

The Giants were ahead 7-0 after seven. Then Juan Pierre, in the ninth spot as Torre wanted to get cute with his lineup and put his pitchers batting eighth, singled. That was followed by Rafael Furcal’s single. Orlando Hudson doubled home Pierre, and when Ramirez walked on Lincecum’s 103rd pitch to load the bases, that was it for Tim.

“As a starting pitcher,’’ Lincecum said, “you go as deep into the game as you can, and you hand the ball over.’’

He handed it to Jeremy Affeldt who got Andre Ethier to hit into a double play, which did score Furcal, but the Dodgers had been stymied.

“He had gone far enough,’’ Bochy said of Lincecum. “Jeremy came in and got that huge double play. Tim had great stuff his last start, the start before that and this start. We won a series from the team in first after they swept us in L.A.

“It’s important for us to play well at home.’’

And to finish their April schedule the way they started it, even after 20 games as they were before a single game. This season could be very interesting.

SF Examiner: Bay Area in need of a new sports superstar

By: Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

Barry Bonds was in the stands. Manny Ramirez was on the field. Willie Mays and Willie McCovey were in the clubhouse. The buzz was back. And isn’t that what sports are all about?

We were spoiled around here, except not many understood. This was a place of superstars, of individuals who got headlines and grabbed our attention, athletes who were always a story, for better or worse.

Now the Bay Area is a wasteland. Or at best a wait-land. We keep looking for the next Joe Montana, the next Jose Canseco, the next Jerry Rice, the next Rick Barry, but where is he?

The issue is not merely talent. Tim Lincecum has a great deal of that. So seemingly does Kurt Suzuki of the A’s, hidden over there figuratively under the tarps of the Coliseum.

You don’t get to the big leagues or the NFL or the NBA or NHL without talent. What our teams need, what they once possessed, is pizzazz. What our teams need are superstars.

Whether the Niners and Raiders were successful in the NFL Draft — especially the Raiders with their picks so heavily criticized — won’t be known for a year or three. But what already is known is the New York Jets’ first selection, quarterback Mark Sanchez, would have been exactly what either local team could have used. If not necessarily to win games — and the prospect of that taking place is more than likely — but to get noticed — to have people talking and watching.

Sanchez is the next Joe Namath, already media savvy coming out of the Hollywood element at USC and about to compete for the back pages of the New York tabloids with A-Rod, Eli Manning and CC Sabathia.

McCovey was in his usual chair in the office of Giants equipment manager Mike Murphy at AT&T Park the other night, facing Mays a few feet away. “Hey, Willie,” someone suggested to Mac, but it could have been either, “there’s more star power in this room than the rest of the whole park.”

Of course, that was before Bonds showed up to sit next to managing general partner Bill Neukom.

“Yeah,” McCovey agreed. “That’s what’s needed.”

Down in L.A., there’s Kobe. Over in Boston, there’s Tom Brady — and Pedroia, Papi and Papelbon. Cleveland has LeBron. Does an evening go by when one of them, usually all of them, doesn’t get face time on ESPN?

Jim Plunkett was here. Steve Young was here. Baron Davis, practically a superstar, was here. Mark McGwire was here.

Mays, McCovey and Juan Marichal are honored with statues near AT&T. We need more athletes whose likenesses will be set in stone and bronze.

Maybe JaMarcus Russell fulfills the promise, although he seems reluctant to meet the obligation or the training regimen. Maybe Alex Smith, given a new chance, meets expectations, his and ours.

It isn’t if you win or lose, it’s how you play the media game. With a superstar, you’re playing it the best way possible.

Art Spander has been covering Bay Area sports since 1965 and also writes on www.artspander.com and www.realclearsports.com. E-mail him at typoes@aol.com.

- - - - - -

http://www.sfexaminer.com/sports/Spander-Bay-Area-in-need-of-a-new-sports-superstar-43934572.html
Copyright 2009 SF Newspaper Company 

Bonds back, Giants come back

SAN FRANCISCO – Empty seats, maybe 10,000 of them, a sign of the times. But one chair not empty was filled by the man who for the Giants was the sign – and the face – of better times.

Barry Bonds had come home.

He was a spectator, a guest of Bill Neukom, the guy in the bow tie who is the Giants’ managing general partner. It was Giants vs. Dodgers, on a chilly, windy Monday night. A rivalry renewed. And with Barry a hero/villain remembered.

In so many places, Barry was despised, even before the steroid stuff started. In this place, AT&T, the park that if Barry didn’t quite build he was in part responsible for, Bonds is idolized.

It’s the Dodgers who are despised.

“The Dodgers,’’ their manager, Joe Torre, conceded before the wildest of games Monday night, a Giants’ 5-4 win, “people either love them or hate them.’’

In 50 years, they’ve never been loved in the Bay Area. Not at Seals Stadium. Not at Candlestick. Not at AT&T.

Fans here rarely chant “Let’s go Giants.’’ Fans here always shout “Beat L.A.’’ Which Monday is what San Francisco was able to do, if not by the easiest of methods.

The Giants blew a 3-0 lead in the seventh and then came back with two in the eighth to win, 5-4, before a crowd announced at 31,091.

This indeed is a rivalry. “Not like it was in New York,’’ said Torre, who grew up back there cheering for the New York Giants against the Brooklyn Dodgers. “But it’s a rivalry. I think the younger players find that out quickly. I knew it before I came here.’’

Before that, Torre was with the Yankees, where the hatred is pitched at them by the Red Sox fans. Real venom. And when he managed the St. Louis Cardinals, he learned that across the Mississippi, downstate Illinois has more than enough Chicago Cubs partisans.

“The fans can get in a frenzy, which is OK,’’ said Torre. “That’s what sports are about. But it can wear you out.’’

The Giants wore out the Dodgers on Monday in the opener of a three-game series. Trailing 4-3, they scored twice in the eighth on a couple of line drives and a couple of dribblers.

It was a game the Giants needed. Not only because they were swept by the Dodgers in Los Angeles a couple of weeks back but because on Sunday, San Francisco couldn’t hold on to a 4-1 lead over the Diamondbacks and lost in 12.

It was a game closer Brian Wilson needed, since he was the man at fault on Sunday, giving up the game-tying homer. But Monday, in the ninth, Wilson struck out the side for the save.

Maybe it was a game Barry Bonds needed. This was his first one in San Francisco this season, and the time he didn’t spend waving at the fans when next to Neukom or in the row behind him he spent talking to Mike Krukow and Duane Kuiper on the Comcast telecast.

All of a sudden, Barry is the charmer. All of a sudden the Giants, after a 2-7 start, are 9-9.

All of a sudden, the other Barry, Zito, is the pitcher of old. He went seven shutout innings last Wednesday. He went 6 1/3 shutout innings Monday night before giving up a walk and a home run. Zito still doesn’t have a win in 2009, but he does have back-to-back impressive performances.

“He did a great job,’’ Giants manager Bruce Bochy said of Zito, “but he was getting it up and not where he wanted. That’s why the change was made.’’

After 109 pitches, Zito was replaced by Merkin Valdez who after a walk to Rafael Furcal and a single by Orlando Hudson challenged Mr. Dreadlocks himself, Manny Ramirez. Manny won, singling in the go-ahead run. Yet in the end, the Giants won it all.

“Exciting game,’’ affirmed Bochy. A rivalry game, a game that teased and irritated but, for Giants fans, finally satisfied.

“It was good to see Barry,’’ Bochy said of Bonds. “He came to the clubhouse. I know the guys were happy to see him. He was sitting there watching. It was an exciting win and a great win for us.’’

Against the Dodgers, a team people either love or hate. Except in the Bay Area. Where it’s only hate.

Cabrera's fortunes change quickly for the A's

OAKLAND – It’s a game of numbers. Baseball is a small island of activity in a great sea of statistics. Virtually nothing goes unrecorded. To the people who play it, however, much goes ignored.

They know what they are doing. Or what they are not doing. Orlando Cabrera was the new guy for the Athletics, although after 16 years in organized ball, he hardly is one of the new guys in the game.

That fact his average was a miserable .190, that he entered Sunday’s game against Tampa Bay with only three hits his previous 37 at bats, was balanced by Cabrera’s recognition of performance.

“I was happy with a lot of those 37 at bats,’’ Cabrera said, “even though I haven’t been getting hits. I was battling. A lot of things can happen. It’s just like playing poker. Fortunes change quickly.’’

They changed Sunday for Cabrera. And for the A’s.  He had a double and a single. The A’s had a second straight win over the Rays, who, it’s almost hard to remember, were in the World Series last fall.

Oakland played a dominant game, Dana Eveland -- whose locker is adjacent to Cabrera’s -- getting his first pitching victory as the A’s beat the Rays, 7-1.

“It was probably our best series of the year,’’ A’s manager Bob Geren was to assert. “Just the way we started it, down (Friday) night and the way we finished it.’’

We’re always impatient around baseball, where patience is of the essence. Ballplayers don’t string things together like the fans or media do. Any game might be a bad one. Or a brilliant one. Players judge over weeks and months.

Cabrera was hitting .190, Jason Giambi .211, Matt Holiday .238, Nomar Garciaparra .222.  Embarrassing and perplexing, but not fatal.

“It was just a matter of time,’’ said Geren, a man of equanimity. “We’ve got a lot of quality hitters with proven records. Orlando is a .290 hitter, an excellent hitter at the top of the lineup.

“He looked a little bit off, but just (Saturday) he told hitting coach Jim Skaalen, ‘Don’t worry about me. My hits are just about to start coming.’ So we have a guy that knows his game and his ability level and is confident enough to say something like that and then go out and do it.’’

These A’s have been disappointing. The addition of Holliday, a .319 hitter, Giambi, Cabrera and Garciaparra was supposed to make Oakland a contender. They need success. They need attention. The Giants can always rely on their park. The A’s can rely only on what their ad agency promotes as “100% baseball.’’

There are noticeable failings around the American League. The Angels have a losing record. The Rays, champions of ’08, have a losing record. The A’s have a losing record. The supposition is the Angels and Rays will recover. The hope is the A’s will recover.

And they might.

“You look back at the last couple of weeks,’’ Geren insisted, “and we had guys in position. We left a ton of people on base. We were one hit away here and there from winning a lot of games.’’

The hits came comfortably Sunday, 10 in all, at least one by everyone in the starting lineup and two from Cabrera, who said he had been seeing good pitches yet hadn’t been “lucky enough’’ to get the hits.

Asked if perhaps he were pressing to prove the A’s were correct in signing him in March, the 34-year-old Cabrera shrugged. “I’m too old for that. I can’t do anything about that stuff. I just play my game. Of course, you want to do good all the time. You try.

“You want to help the team win.  It’s nice to go 3-for-4 with five RBIs, but you can also do the little things if you’re not hitting, move a guy over, play defense.’’

The little things have been done. Now he needs the big thing. Now Orlando Cabrera needs to hit the way he did on Sunday against Tampa Bay.

RealClearSports: Did You Feel the Draft?

By Art Spander

You tell yourself not to turn it on. That you can’t take one more analysis by Mel Kiper Jr. Can’t listen to any of the 10,000 announcers – well, it seems that many – tell us someone has a “big upside.”

Can’t sit there while the player who dropped 10 places from the projections says, “I’m just grateful to be in the NFL.” And yet, the draft is like wet paint. The sign tells us “Don’t touch,” and we tap our index finger on the fence anyway and find, indeed, the paint is wet.

And so there I was, from the start, paint figuratively on my hands, beginning at the Oakland Raiders headquarters, then moving 40 miles down I-880 to the offices of the San Francisco 49ers.

Had to arrive early. Had to get in the proper setting. Had to learn if the Detroit Lions really were going to pick Matthew Stafford. Yes, they already had signed him, but just once wouldn’t it be a hoot if a team pulled a fast one and called another player’s name, while all those people at Radio City without a life gasped and shouted as Stafford did flips in the green room?

No such luck. No practical jokes. Just a $41 million contract (recession, what recession?) and the opportunity to be a star. Or a bust.

Why is the draft so important if Alex Smith, first selection in 2005, hasn’t done much except get injured and lose games for the 49ers, not in any particular order, while Tom Brady, a sixth-rounder in 2000, has been an MVP and won three Super Bowls for the New England Patriots?

Never take a quarterback with the first pick, the experts advise. Unless he’s John Elway. Or Drew Bledsoe. But the Lions seemingly had no choice except Stafford.

If you don’t consider Mark Sanchez.

He was selected four picks after Stafford. Some people say he will prove to be the better player. Going to the New York Jets, unquestionably he’s with the better team. The Cleveland Browns, trading the No. 5 selection to the Jets, gave this draft the jolt it needed. And we needed. And maybe the player the Jets needed.

Sanchez, from USC, already was a celeb, as is virtually every top athlete in the Los Angeles area. He’ll have no problem adjusting from Sunset Boulevard to Broadway. Or replacing Brett Favre, at least mentally.

Nobody can judge a draft pick for a year or three. Look us up in 2011 and we’ll have our judgments. Still, Sanchez, given time, place and the New York tabloids, would appear to have landed perfectly. He’ll be allowed to develop with a franchise that already has developed.

The draft is usually too full of linemen, the necessary worker-bees of football. That’s how you build a team, we’re told, with left tackles and defensive ends. The heavy lifters, the “who’s he’s?” the guys ESPN’s Kiper says can stand up or knock down the man opposite him, depending on the requirement.

This time we had the two quarterbacks and a lot of receivers, the flash and dash people, including Darrius Heyward-Bey, B.J. Raji and Michael Crabtree. who was supposed to be chosen before the other two but was picked after.

Heyward-Bey, from Maryland, is fast, which is why the Raiders took him with the seventh pick, much to Kiper’s dismay. Crabtree, from Texas Tech, is productive, which is why the 49ers selected him with the 10th pick.

Once more we are reminded not to judge the soufflé before it is cooked. Brady, for example, the 199th overall selection nine years ago; Jerry Rice, who was said to lack speed; or Ryan Leaf, No. 2 in the 1998 draft, who not only failed but also had a personality like Ivan the Terrible.

We don’t know about anyone. Yet. Even though Kiper said of the Raiders pick of Heyward-Bey, “I’ve got to give it an F. I don’t know how you can pass up Michael Crabtree or if you want Hayward-Bey trade down.”

Raiders coach Tom Cable, however, said of Heyward-Bey, “This is the guy we wanted. Our biggest need was to get someone to score points.”

Crabtree scored a great many on his 41 career touchdowns. He mumbled something about showing the Raiders they were wrong immediately after Oakland took Heyward-Bey but later, after he was called by the Niners, diplomatically sighed, “I just want to work hard and prove I can do the job.”

Stafford and Sanchez, Heyward-Bey and Crabtree. Without any of them asking, two rivalries were created. They will be watched. They will be compared.

The season doesn’t begin for months, but unfortunately already we’re involved. That's what happens with the draft. Do you think there’s an upside?

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

- - - - - -

http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/04/draft-too-compelling-to-be-ignored.html
© RealClearSports 2009

KNBR.com: Art chats with Gary Radnich and Tony Bruno

From KNBR.com:

“Gary and Bruno enjoy Spander plugging himself and the thought of plugging Lindsay Soto.” From April 22, 2009.

Listen here

Zito: ‘Back to doing what I do best’

SAN FRANCISCO –- He said he was fed up. No more than the fans were with him.

Barry Zito became the symbol of the San Francisco Giants’ failings, the big-ticket item on a medium-budget team who was tainted by a huge salary and doomed by a tentative fastball.

There were more things wrong with the Giants than Zito. When a team has four straight losing seasons, it isn’t because of one player. Yet Barry cost $126 million, and so at AT&T Park, he was treated roughly by spectators known mostly for their kindness.

Zito’s start Wednesday was going to be closely scrutinized, especially the way other pitchers in the rotation had performed on a successful home stand.

Four games preceded Barry, two of them shutouts, three of them victories. This was what the Giants had promised in the spring.

What Zito promised was open to skepticism. He knew it.

“Yeah,’’ agreed Zito, “I guess you could say it was important to have a good one, but it’s important to have a good one at all times.’’

Zito had a brilliant one, perhaps his best in two plus seasons with the Giants, although he begs to differ. Barry went seven innings without allowing a run or a walk. Eventually, the Giants got a pinch-hit single from Bengie Molina in the 10th to win, 1-0, over the San Diego Padres.

Reliever Brian Wilson picked up the victory. No less importantly, Barry Zito picked up the cheers. Although at 0-2 he still doesn’t have a victory, he does have his reputation. And considerably more respect. From the crowd.

His teammates insist Barry always had theirs, even when he dropped his first eight games last year and finished with a 10-17 record. Even when boos descended from the tiered stands alongside the Bay.

“It’s kind of tough when you’re in the limelight,’’ said Wilson, alluding to Zito. The two of them spent the offseason working out together.

“Today was the Zito I know,’’ Wilson continued. “The Zito I grew up watching. I’m pretty sure we can expect the same thing from all his starts now. His velocity is up. You can see the way he snaps his wrist. The hitters are a little behind it now.’’

What Zito had been behind was the eight ball. He had won a Cy Young Award in 2002 with the Oakland A’s. He seemed perfect to accept the role both as the Giants’ No. 1 pitcher and as the face of a franchise trying to escape the connection with Barry Bonds.

The problem was that Zito either couldn’t get the ball over the plate or got it over without velocity.

Thoughts of trying to justify the salary invaded his concentration. He’d make a mistake and suddenly three runs scored. It was not so much humiliating as bewildering.

“I was just trying to get back to what I do best,’’ said Zito, “which is pitch. I was getting fed up, pitching below my potential. But you just have to realize it’s not how many times you get knocked down, it’s how many times you get up.’’

He will be 31 in less than a month. He is starting his 10th major league season. He has never missed a start. For a long while, the spectators never missed a chance to start after him.

“I have to be aggressive and attack guys,’’ said Zito, who struck out seven including three in the fourth. “That’s something I did early in my career. I’m still healthy. I’m more than capable of having the same stuff I had earlier.’’

A week ago the Giants arrived home with six straight defeats and an ERA of more than seven. The suspicion was that their season was finished. Not quite.

They beat the Diamondbacks, 2-0. They lost to the Diamondbacks, 2-0. They again beat the Diamondbacks, 2-0. They beat the Padres, 8-3. Then Wednesday, to end the series, they beat the Padres, 1-0.

Five games, five runs allowed. “Pitching is what we’re built on,’’ confirmed Giants manager Bruce Bochy. “Zito hadn’t pitched well in day games here, but I think he put that all behind. He came in today and said he was going to be fine. He did the job.’’

Which is what a player is supposed to do, no matter how much he’s paid.