climbing attic steps

I can’t remember the sweaty palms of a first crush any more than scratching at the cement of our wall ball batter’s box, but we must have looked super small to nearby birds; standing there beside that big red brick wall and small spray painted square with an x inside; our all-knowing strike zone.

I did the Cecil Cooper crouch. Others went with a super relaxed Eric Davis. There were all kinds and no pitcher’s mound, just more cement. We took chances with no grown ups telling us what to do. I liked being Kent Tekulve; total submarine style; turned pitching into a dance and felt better on the arm.

The greatest moment was whacking one with that 29 inch aluminum bat and watching a deflated dirty yellow ball come to life like that, soaring over the fence and bouncing down an alley and disappearing. There were no bases so no home run trots, but a hell of a lot of flipping the bat, dancing and jumping around. Pissed the pitcher off just the same.

It’s depressing to think maybe I’ve already lived the greatest moments in my life, but maybe we’re not supposed to live very long anyway. There were no heart surgeons 200 years ago. Our ancestors performed rain dances, downed whisky, clenched their teeth and hoped for the best. No wonder Walter Johnson pitched so many complete games. Less to lose with death always a possibility rather than 40 years away, but then again Gaylord Perry pitched plenty of complete games and he lasted into the early 80’s.

Complete games may never return, but the wind pouring through an attic window hopefully will and kids will find a way past the mom or dad border guards and be there to take in the breeze and see the cobwebs all around and invent nightmare mythologies to last an entire childhood. May there never be a dull day. 

The Brewers playing with three starters on the disabled list last night and Aramis Ramirez also not in the lineup. His replacement Jason Rodgers made a bad throw on an easy ground ball; potential third out of the third inning. but instead the bases are loaded and Jay Bruce goes Grand slam. Reds 4, Brewers 0.

The Brewers come to bat in the bottom half; a single and a 2 run homer by replacement catcher Martin Maldonado; a couple of doubles and a single and most runs scored in an inning for the Brewers this season-4. Game tied.

But Todd Frazier in the very next inning; bases loaded again and BAM; another grand slam. Reds back on top 8-4 and in the fifth inning , Zack Cozart hit his second home run of the series. I think the score was 11-4 Reds at that point and then 13-4. Brewers score a run in the sixth. and recently called up Elian Herrera comes to bat after three consecutive walks and BAM Grand slam. It’s suddenly 13-10 and Brewers announcer Bill Shroeder barks it out; Game On!

The Reds added some more in the top of the 7th. Votto hit another home run; final score 16-10 and maybe Jason Marquis pitching has me thinking with  Marquis colored glasses, but Brewer bats seem to be heating up. 

Not a dull moment at Miller Park last night; The two teams combining for 7 homers and 3 grand slams; must be some sort of record; but the Brewers still lost and are now 2-12.

And even if they keep losing; no two losses seem to behave the same; reverse spice of life I guess. Next up Johnny Cueto. The Reds ace set to face the Brewers new ace; Jimmy Nelson Wednesday night.

The Cleveland Spiders were 20-134 back in 1899.

at least it wasn’t a shutout

There was Carlos Gomez Wednesday night; leading off the game against the Rockies and no big deal there, but somewhere in the middle of his first inning at bat, the fireworks show went off and that’s not supposed to happen at miller park or only when there’s home runs hit by brewers.

Gomez smiled anyway; liking the innuendo and what not; the way Milwaukee says please, but the Rockies pitcher whose name I can’t remember didn’t smile and as for me; well; I was thinking  “too bad for you buddy because maybe nature isn’t on your side today or at least not technology and anyway, you’re on the road and young so deal with it,” but he didn’t and Gomez worked a rare walk and I felt like anger as a talisman had been effective, but Jonathan Lucroy hit into a double play so the apparent home field premature fireworks explosion trick didn’t pan out, but it was worth a try.

The Brewers have picked up where they left off last year; as total offensive zombies except for newly acquired Adam Lind; hitting .600 and especially that double and home run Wednesday night, but the Brewers lost after leading because Carlos Gonzalez hit a game tying monster blast off the Brewer’s Johnny Broxton who used to be called Jonathon and then Wil Rosario hit a go ahead 10th inning thinger off Frankie now we have you for 2 years Rodriguez.

The Brewers got swept by the Rockies who have all that offense as usual and lots of gold glovers too and now this year they stacked their staff with sinker ballers and Walt Weiss looks like he knows what the crow he’s doing. I don’t know how good a defender Nolan Arenado is, but he had me thinking about the great ones and I don’t know how many doubles the Rockies hit in this series, but it maybe set a record and somewhere else there’s probably a guy who wears an opal on his ring finger; inherited it from his grandfather I bet, but got hooked on scholars and then hawked and hustled the ring on some street corner to pay for private schooling but fell quickly sick from seeing all those desks facing the podium with such one way obedience.

“Goebbels and bits,” he probably sang. “Goebbels and bits” he kept singing and the other students laughed, but the professor sent him away, to some room down the hall and then he was expelled so he said “screw it and onward” because what choice did he have? Oh he had plenty of choices but he made the one in his gut and wandered all kinds of streets like they did all kinds of roads railroads and rivers all those hundreds of years and he felt satisfied and made playgrounds his place to rest long after the children playing day was done and he dreamed under jungle gyms and in the morning rolled on alone but not really alone. There were others and they all roamed round the big house they shared, that everyone shared; so many rooms like behind the post office and atop city hall; in the trees behind the quick mart and the broccoli patch along the lake and the fire truck passed one day.

“It has a ladder and is red and has wheels and all of this is a miracle,” he screamed “And so is the fire the truck will be trying to put out, but it won’t put out and will never put out.”

So Adam Lind hits a home run and does his home run trot and what not round the bases to give the Brewers I think it was a 4-2 lead and then back home into the Brewers dugout for the first regular season time and all the car wash flaps and high fives and brother to brother to brother and for a few innings we were on our way, but 

the brewers are 0-3.

it’s not paradise, but close enough

Maybe the world was always a messed up place; all the way back to cave man times; territorial battles,scrounging for resources and control; revenge, hate, murder and all that. This peace and utopia thing doesn’t even exist in sleep.

The Old Testament is a funny story or a real story in that people are so messed up.  Judah slept with a prostitute who happened to be his son’s wife. Her name was Tamar and oops; she gave birth to twins; Perez and Zehar and eventually that genealogical line resulted in King David and further down the road Jesus. Crazy story, but a great one because the screwed up situations and the not so screwed up situations seem  so intertwined and we just never know when everything suddenly in a flash changes…for the better…ideally.

Anyway, enough of my biblical soap box preachings. I was walking beside this wetlands near my parent’s house and there was plenty of road kill; mostly mushed frogs and I seen a dog being walked that stumbled on a cat that had been killed. The cat was bigger than most cats, but totally dead and covered with flies. The dog stuck its nose in there like any dog would do and then moved its nose onto something else.

There’s something great about a dog’s nose. I guess it’s the way it doesn’t judge and I don’t mean judge in the sense of right or wrong or superior or inferior. I’m talking about smells. If  it’s edible, the dog eats and if it’s not, that dog moves onto the next thing. Sniffing its own turf. I like dogs and animals in general.

A lady told me yesterday she seen a mountain lion and a bear in the woods here. She explained the situation as campers up north showing up with RV’s pushing bears and mountain lions off their land and so animals started wandering south and they’re not really afraid of humans; not around the Great Lakes anyway. Less noise and less pollution I guess. But people hunt for sure around here. Who knows. She says if you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you.

Pirates are a different story, especially with Andrew McCutchen back in the line up. Fear the Cardinals, but meanwhile the Pirates were in first place a big chunk of last year and they’re back, after some injuries. This third baseman/reserve player Josh Harrison seems like a charismatic and fun dude to have on a team. He hit the 8th inning home run last night; kind of nail in the coffin; extended the pirates lead to 8-3.

Harrison was batting lead off so he’s more than a fill in. He drove in 5 freaking runs last night and for the season is hitting .300 with 40 plus ribbies and 11 homers.

I missed the beginning of the game. Gallardo gave up 8 hits in 5 innings; 6 runs, but only 3 earned. I’ll be at the game Saturday night and sitting on the first base side….Brewers side….see if that helps. Superstitious for sure, but why not. I try and eat an odd number of everything like 5 cloves of garlic and five carrots in a salad, five chicken McNuggets and 5 shakes of pepper and so on. A russian lady who sells flowers told me to always buy an odd number of flowers; never even so I do, but it could be seven or three.

The Brewers are 71-57.

geriatrics, paranoia and base hits

Miller Park is too loud and there’s too many carnival activities or maybe I’ve become an old fart. I don’t remember it being like this at County Stadium; win this and win that on the scoreboard, all the people dancing to get on the scoreboard. People watch the scoreboard more than the game and that freaking thing takes up 40 percent of the outfield.

Engineering marvel? Miracle of science? I should love robots and just shut up and appreciate this glorious life and day baseball under the sun. There’s too many statues at this new Miller Park and I say new because it will always be new to me, brand spanking and too squeaky clean new. Way too many statues. Who needs statues. I don’t like statues; attract too many tourists with cameras.

Or maybe i need a beer and a valium. I love Bob Uecker. He’s a funny story teller, but he doesn’t need a statue and he gets two; outside and inside the Park. Maybe i just got claustrophobic in large crowds. There were 40,000 yesterday; kids and senior citizen day.  I enjoyed the pre game warm up on the blue Jays side; Kawasaki-the Jays eccentric second baseman from Japan was playing catch with Jose Bautista and the two of them were playing a simulated game of pitcher; each one impersonating one pitcher or another.

Kawasaki did a convincing Luis Tiant cork screwing his body 180 degrees; eye contact with someone somewhere. Kawasaki threw the ball over the shortstop or third baseman’s head two times during around the horn. Never seen that. He was laughing and so was Bautista and Encarnacion. Don’t see that stuff on TV.

Lots of Bluejay fans at Miller Park.  I yelled a few times; tried to piss them off. It felt good. The first time at Danny Valencia; thanking him for making a throwing error and allowing run to score and thanking the Jays for making a trade for Valencia; their big trading deadline move..big joke.

I yelled loudly about Melky Cabrera being fat and a weak outfielder, but I thanked him for dropping a Mark Reynolds fly ball at the wall. That felt good too.

Blue Jays knuckler RA Dickey backing up the third base on a throw and saving a run. He jumped kind of high to snare Bautista’s wild throw; headed for the lower box seats. That was exciting, but Dickey has a weird motion. If he were a kid at the playground; you’d think he might be better with a microscope inside the classroom.

The game itself was nice; lots of runs and base hits; more like an old American League bash fest between Jays and Brewers. I don’t like inter league play. I hate it and ditto for the wildcards. Now everyone says, “hey, this is gonna be a close race.” Well, no shit it is with 10 teams in the playoffs. Too damn easy.

Anyway, Brewer fans were pissed off about Jimmy Nelson staying in the game too long and pissed about him not having a third pitch. Cripes…Jays batters, especially Dickey’s personal catcher; I can’t remember his name…Josh Toely? musta fouled off 20 of Nelson’s pitches in two different at bats. No put away pitch for him; no curve, no change up; just a 97 mph fast ball and maybe a slider, but whatever..great control and lots of first pitch strikes.

The bullpen sucked yesterday or the Jays are just explosive. Bautista hit a bomb off reliever Zack Duke and in the ninth, Colby Rasmus launched a huge one. Final Score; Jays 9, Brewers 5. Musta been more than 20 hits and there were. i just looked in the paper; 15 for the jays and 10 for the crew.

Pitching greatness is sexy and what not and all the nuances of execution and hitting behind runners and fancy art exhibits and three forks and blah blah blah, but just hit the hell out of the ball, hit it somewhere; poke this joke of a pitcher…I like that…14 runs.

The tailgating parties continued after the game and no one seemed too pissed off, bit one guy walked around like a ghost saying “it’s over. the season is over” I tried talking to him but he just gave me a blank stare and repeated his little mantra or whatever it was. Maybe he got too drunk in the game and his wife told him to hit the road jack.

The weird thing about this season; unlike 1981 and 1982 and 1987 and another season in the early 90’s and then 2008 and 2011…the Brewers have been in first place since April. In those winning years; four playoff years the Crew struggled to reach the top. Cripes, in 82, they fired their manager-Buck Rodgers and brought in Harvey Kueen..Harvey’s Wallbangers.

This year’s Brewers been sitting on top since April. Hope it doesn’t get stale; feeling smug and all, getting lazy or losing that edge. Whatever. Maybe not. Who knows. Maybe that guy outside the park saying the mantra over and over again; Mr. comotose doomsday is getting under my skin. Time to go buy a new pack of gum.

rocks and birds and beer and things

There were grandmas and grandpas on the airplane enjoying smartphones and laptops yesterday; some in Detroit and some in Milwaukee. Made me feel like a cave man, but I have no complaints about today’s world or yes I do, but not with old people.

I visited my parent’s yesterday; first time in a long time;  glad to see them alive and doing crossword puzzles and word searches and tuned to jeopardy like never before. We took some slow walks, ate dinner, watched the Brewers game on TV. A dragonfly entered their condo and Mom said they usually stay outside. Me too, I was thinking to myself.

I guess one of the tricks to survival is not feeling pissed off all the time. Who the hell can endure that? Anyway, I am pissed about the ecstasy from an airplane window being stolen from us; thank you very much Google Maps, but I can only blame myself. I cheated years ago and enjoyed aerial views of my home town.

Dammit! Wish I hadn’t done it; sneaked a peak that is.  No more orgasm 30,000 feet in the air; seeing my city and stomping grounds like a hawk maybe does, but whatever, it was still kind of cool yesterday; seeing Milwaukee on high, way up above. The North Point Water Tower, Lake Michigan and all the beaches, the Domes and UW-Milwaukee campus, smoke stacks, beer plumes and that strange sci-fi spaceship in the Menominee valley, that old train station with the giant windows thingamagegee….that Miller Park and its retractable dome.

Could only see it for a second between the clouds. Super cloudy yesterday and strange route by the pilot. Flew south of Milwaukee and then over Lake Michigan maybe halfway and then turned around and landed at General Mitchell Airport or maybe I was giddy from being home, messed up internal GPS. Anyway, I thanked the captain on the way out.

On a clear day you can be in the middle of Lake Michigan…in one of these planes; 30,000 feet above and see both side of the Lake; both Milwaukee and Luddington, Michigan. I always thought that was cool, especially because I had no idea as a kid that Lake Michigan ended. It was exactly like that Who song….”I can see for miles and miles….”

One of the many not so strange things about Milwaukee and Wisconsin and Midwest is the trees and squirrels, deer,  rabbits, broccoli hillside lush, and even a few wetlands with frogs and herons and other birds. Not so strange because Montreal and Quebec has the same or is the same. And both have tremendous humidity; swimming through applesauce humidity.

Natural landscapes make a huge difference to me. I like grain silos and pollution and rolling farm fields and cows and lots of green and rabbits and what not. The French Fur traders took those damn canoes from Quebec all the way to the Mississippi river. Milwaukee was settled by French Fur traders; Pere Marquette and Jean Nicolet. A few statues of them around town,

They musta felt good in the landscape and the water…holy mackerel. Lots of water. The Great lakes and rivers and more lakes. Fish, frogs, some gardener snakes and green everywhere…easy to breathe.

I like this Midwest and beer. People like beer here and so do I and almost 70 hours have passed and still not one cigarette. I found Juicy Fruit in a Hubba Bubba type packaging at a gas station on the corner. Salted peanut rolls and whatamakalit candy bars too. None of those in Montreal. The juicy fruit was same size as Hubba Bubba gum and same long lasting explosion of juices. Been chewing gum for like 70 hours straight except when i sleep. My jaw feels sprained. Also bought a big bag of David Sunflower Seeds. Keeping the course. Cigarettes must die.

And Brewers on TV last night….7 doubles off Blue Jays pitching; scored 6 runs; more than enough for Mike Fiers. Him and reliever Brandon Kintzler retired 24 batters in a row. Almost a perfect game right there. They gave Fiers a standing ovation. Holy mackerel….that ovation is gonna be me Wednesday afternoon.

There is no air conditioning in Miller Park; just panels that open; give a little breeze, but that’s ok or not ok not for the pitchers; buckets of sweat, but ok for us fans. I’m gonna wear shorts, sip a beer and well, hope the Brewers add a win to their record of 71-55.

bronson arroyo-alis

Arroyo as a Red; mlbreports.com

Bronson Arroyo wears his hair as corn rows under a Red Sox cap and then as rock and roll bangs below a  Cincinnati Reds bill. It doesn’t matter. Arroyo always looks good whether he’s recording an album of guitar cover songs or winning a World Series. The Arroyo career spans 15 years and includes 2310 innings of kung fu leg kicks at approximately 99 degree angles.

And it’s still not enough for critics who call his musical journey “12 bad alternative rock covers” and refer to his hairdos as “the big mistakes.” It doesn’t matter because Jimi Hendrix still sings “if 6 was 9 ….if the hippies cut off all their hair, I don’t care, dig, cause I got my own world to live through and I ain’t gonna copy you.”

Arroyo is now an Arizona Diamondback and he was set to face the Milwaukee Brewers on Wednesday afternoon; rubber match of a three game series; as good a day as any to enjoy the flip side of paranoia; some sweet benevolent conspiracy.

My boss called at 7:30 AM, lesser load of deliveries at the hospital expected. “Don’t bother coming in today. We’ll see you tomorrow.”Good news. I could now watch the Brewers game live and not tape delayed at night- half asleep. I did some google searches, worried and stressed a bit, took a walk around the block, worried some more and then thought about whatever.

Arroyo must have been in the back of my mind because music and baseball; where the two have intersected came to mind. Bob Dylan’s “Catfish,” Punch Drunk’s tribute to Lyman Bostock, Bronson Arroyo covers and on and on. Arroyo may not write his own songs, but on the mound, he sure does.

Arroyo as a Red Sox, msn.com

Arroyo has won more games against Milwaukee-15 than any other team; most of those coming as a Cincinnati Red. His career ERA and WHIP are noticeably lower when facing the Brewers. He doesn’t throw that fast anymore; never really did, but his pitches dance all over the place. He can be confusing.

Arroyo was drafted by Pittsburgh and pitched three years with the Pirates; then released and picked up by Boston for three more, then traded to Cincinnati for 8 seasons. He’s 37 years old with a career record of 140-129. He’s so old that he pitched at County Stadium back when he was a Pirate in 2000.

Arroyo’s nickname is Saturn nuts. Yeh, Saturn Nuts. The sabermetric poet Carston Cistulli  explains here.

Paul Goldschmidt hit another 2-run homer Wednesday. And Arroyo did what he almost always does against the Brewers; provoked crooked swings and pop ups. It got so bad that Carlos Gomez bunted for two of the five base hits.

The D-backs scored another run in the eighth inning on an error by first baseman Lyle Overbay. Six outs to go for Arroyo and a 3-1 lead, but he got the hook with one out in the 8th and runners on first and second.  The side winder Brad Ziegler entered the game and Rickie Weeks lined a single to left field. Bases loaded. Climate changing, but then Gomez then hit a hard ground ball to the shortstop for an easy 6-4-3 double play depressing.

Hendrix 2014 Panini

The Brewers did score a run in the ninth, but that only made Overbay’s error sting a bit more. I’m just glad the Arroyos and Collmenters of the world only show up once in a while. I’d rather face Masahiro Tanaka and the Yankees. The Japanese ace will be on the Miller Park mound Friday night.

Hendrix 2001 Topps

Final score; D-backs 3, Brewers 2. The Brewers are 22-13 and 2-5 in the merry month of May, but hey, “if a 6 was 9 and the sun refuse to shine, I don’t mind…..”

heap of corn

The setting could have been better, but hell if I could come up with one. I had just moved into my first apartment and all four roommates were somewhere else. The carpet was shag brown , floors cheap and creaking, but I had just finished work. I walked to 7/11 and watched those little seeds pop and explode behind a glass cage, all that fire and violence and yet, I walked away with a bag of doves. I had me a heap-o-corn and Game 3 of the World Series was about to begin, but it never did, not for 10 days anyway. The Bay Area was having an earthquake.

The TV image went squiggly, then blank and then audio only with a still life World Series label and the muffled, under water sound of Al Michael’s voice. Yeh, the Oakland A’s and San Francisco Giants were meeting in the World Series for the first time and yeh, the two cities were separated by only a bay and endless marketing nonsense distinguishing the cities and how bizarre for an earthquake to happen, but there was no time for  ironies or we’re cooler or better or more blue-collar. There was just survival.

I shut the tv off and walked a short block to the Jazz Estate; some dinky bar on Murray Avenue in Milwaukee. My friend’s dad always warned us about going to bars alone, but I made exceptions when it was an old man or jazz bar. The men in there always seemed more self-conscious than I was. My grandpa was just about my best friend in those days. I knew next to nothing about music, but I loved Weather Report and Return to Forever.

There was no band at The Estate, not even a CD playing . I ordered whatever was on tap and sat there and in between paranoid thoughts, I drank and thought about the A’s and Giants and the earth-shaking. I was glad to be in Milwaukee.

The bartender was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, straight blonde. I didn’t stare, but she was nice, seemed unaware of her good looks; none of that nauseating seductive crap. She filled my beer without asking and said, “on the house,”first and last time that ever happened. I sort of smiled and thought about the earthquake, but it was impossible to imagine, so I thought about the Royals playing the Cardinals a few years earlier in the World Series and the Yankees and Brooklyn a few decades before that; cities so close the teams took buses to the games.

I dreamed of a Brewers and  Cubs World Series, but that was impossible. They were always ships passing in the night; the Brewers good and then great between 1979-1983 and the Cubs arriving in 1984, and quickly fading. The Cubs Brewers never happened, but something even better did.

In 1998, the Brewers switched leagues and joined the Cubs in the National League Central. It was better than the World Series because it was regular; every season more than a dozen Cubs Brewers games. The two cities have the same trees, animals, accents, Lake Michigan. There are tornadoes and 8-4 punch clocks, debts to pay, traffic accidents, but there’s also baseball and the Brewers and Cubs was a cure; for close to 3 hours anyway.

When the Cubs game against the Astros was cancelled because of Hurricane Ike on September 14,  2008, it actually wasn’t cancelled. It was relocated from Houston to Milwaukee’s Miller Park. Carlos Zambrano threw a freaking no-hitter. I think it was the only neutral site no hitter in baseball history. The Brewers had nothing to do with it, but Miller Park did.

It always feels like a party or holiday when the two teams play. It never matters to me who wins. Jason Hammel was on the mound for the Cubs Sunday. Hammel bounced around from Tampa to Colorado, and Baltimore until this off-season when the Cubs expressed interest. Hammel signed and so far this young season; including his gem on Sunday, he’s been the best in baseball….34.2 innings, 16 hits allowed and only 6 walks.

Kasper beside Harry Caray statue, chicagonow.com

The Brewers were without Braun and Segura, but Hammel dominated; had a no-hitter into the 7th inning and Starlin Castro hit two home runs. I hope he rediscovers his .300 average with lots of extra base hits. Cubs win 4-0.

WGN Cubs announcer Len Kasper got a surprise delivery in the 8th inning. It was a Thorn Burger, named after Brewers pitcher Tyler Thornburg. It’s a regular burger topped with pepperoni slices. Kasper didn’t try it during the game, but he kept saying it looked and smelled good. Cubs Brewers to be continued in mid May.

The Brewers are 18-7, Cubs 8-16.

hit the ball danny

Petco Park; wikipedia

The San Diego Padres built Petco Park at a time when home runs were happening at record rates. And yet, every time I tuned into a Petco Park game, the Padres seemed to be playing in a low scoring, one run game. I started thinking  Petco was the truest form of baseball communism with the synthetic advantages of one team over another neutralized by the Petco’s supposedly huge dimensions.

All the Padres had to do was get some decent starting pitching and then hand the ball over to a dynamic relief duo like Mike Adams and Heath Bell. Throw in some old school batters who could bunt, sacrifice, hit behind runners, steal bases-a gang of Ichiro clones and they could manufacture runs like pre Babe Ruth days. They could then begin drafting and developing Ichiros with Petco Park dimensions in mind.

Enjoy some legalized performance enhancing stadium effects like Oakland’s foul territory for pitchers and then draft and trade and sign free agents accordingly. The Padres could win 100 games and take the NL West and then lose in the playoffs, just like Oakland. It could be so easy and so much fun.

Petco was built in 2000 and it was supposed to be tailor-made for pitchers and it is according to home runs per game and runs scored per game since 2000. Petco is usually near the bottom in both categories except for 2006 when the home runs spiked  to 0.982; good for 15th in the majors.

But it’s not like Petco Park is the Polo Grounds and even if it was, bigger dimensions can work to a team’s advantage with more triples and doubles and theoretically, more runs scored because there will be more ground for outfielders to cover and more room for balls to drop.

But it’s true about fewer runs scoring at Petco than other parks so I know nothing. Maybe it has to do with the Padres being crappy hitters. The Padres said the hell with it last year. They moved the fences in 10 feet just when home runs were no longer really in style. I think they’re confused; maybe too much southern California sun.

It’s not like they suddenly hit more home runs because of 10 feet. Good luck Evereth Cabrera, but home runs were up last season, still not as much as that 2006 spike.

This entire park effects metric seems blown out of proportion. A team needs hitters who can hit. It doesn’t matter if they play inside a racquetball court or an expansive catholic church. And the Padres? Hitters they ain’t, especially when facing the Brewer’s Kyle Lohse, but Miller Park is supposedly “hitter friendly.” Achhh. It’s hogwash. Even the Brewers offense has been stinking up Miller Park so far this year.

Miller Park; wikipedia

Wednesday night was the final game of Brewers/Padres series. Tyson Ross was on the mound at Miller Park and he apparently fixed a glitch in his delivery a few weeks ago and found pitcher’s heaven.

Over Ross’s previous two starts; 15 innings, 10 hits and 2 walks allowed, 1 earned run, 16 strikeouts and 2 wins. Coulda fooled me. Ross got shelled Wednesday night. So much for miracle solutions. Jean Segura clubbed a three run homer and Khris Davis hit an astral projection bomb of a home run. Nine hits and five runs for the Brewers; all credited to Ross. Enjoy the shower.

And Lohse was his typical control freak self; 7 innings and 0 walks, 5 k’s Final score: Brewers 5, Padres 2.

The Brewers are 16-6.

the beer that changed my mind

A two fisted slopper has no home in a dictionary, but that doesn’t stop his zig zag progress. He huffs and puffs and spills beer on baseball fans. He’s exhausted, out of shape and I need him more than ever.

The slopper first appeared on the County Stadium scoreboard in 1980 as a reminder to drink responsibly. Fair enough, we all thought. It’s good to be polite, but a sneaking suspicion hit us. This was a subtle attempt to switch the focus from the spirit to the body. And then baseball players began looking like bouncers and we said “hmphhhh.”

It’s good to be healthy and fit. Our spirit seems to depend on it; good for taxpayers too. They don’t want to pay for Joe Blow’s clogged artery or declining lung capacity. Walk down the street with a cigarette or a Double Whoppper and people give you the evil eye or maybe that only happens in countries with socialized medicine.

Either way, it’s a good thing. Burger King lovers are forced to sneak around and look like discovery ships at a time when every speck of land, water, and air seems owned by a corporation. And at Brewer games, the slopper looks like a beer swilling  stunt man; defying death; a reminder of here today and gone tomorrow.

He’s a protest song without all the screaming and carrying signs and pointing plastic fingers because the slopper’s biggest and only dilemma is balancing beer (s) during return trips back to his seat.

We were led to believe that he spilled Pabst, Miller, or Old Style on the lap of a well dressed lady, but there is no historic proof of the event and yet, the slopper still appears on the Miller Park scoreboard and even inspired a family section where beer is outlawed.

He began as a cartoon and remains a cartoon, but there is a surge of discontent over his being banned. “Get rid of the swimming pools and top 40 music distractions and bring back organ players and two fisted sloppers.” That’s the rally cry anyway. Amazing because there is no swimming pool at Miller Park, but there is at Chase Field in Arizona. Spirit of Spring Revolt I guess.

I join in part because I like the exercise and enjoy chanting slogans. The words never matter; only the decibels do. Primal scream therapy with rhythm. It feels good. They also serve donuts on occasion at the finish line of the march.

I’m surrendering the pseudo “negative capability” pose that I first learned from George Will. He compared baseball’s steroid scandal to some sort of Shakespeare transcendence; understanding both sides and withholding judgement.

That’s all fine and George Will dandy, but this endangered species-the two fisted slopper is closer to my heart than a famous poet I’ve never read and probably never will.

The slopper bothers no one, other than the occasional spill which is probably good for beer sales anyway; seductive smells. His clumsiness is due in part to the wire stuck in his ear. It’s an AM wire sounding the comedy of Bob Uecker’s radio call of the game on 620 WTMJ. I’ve been in his shoes.

I have no data proving the fall of the two fisted slopper, but Miller Park seems squeeky clean; no more paper beer cups being smashed, no more echoes in the concourse, far fewer brawls and way less sucking face under the bleachers.

Come to think of it, there is no more under the bleachers. Seats have ears and eyes nowadays so as to not miss any distraction; the sausage race, guess today’s attendance and Casey Kasem top 40 equivalent between innings. Retro stadium gems?

Why not raise up the two fisted slopper. Put him on a beer throne; a king for a game. There could be a competition in the tailgater parking lot. Who can drink the most beer and still keep score with those pencils they give away with programs. The stubs are the size of a human pinkie with no erasers.

It’s hard enough to keep score sober and not make a mistake. Sloppers would be escorted home in a Chevrolet; one of the team’s corporate sponsors. Win win situation.

the old baseball field montreal

Milwaukee’s shuttle bus to Miller Park  is #90 with a dashboard flashing “Go Brewers.” The green limousine rolls along Wisconsin Avenue, turns on 45th street and Bluemound Road.

miller park-wikicommons

I like getting off at Robin Yount Drive before the descent into Menominee Valley. The slow stroll along the north parking lot is tailgater dome grills, lawn chairs, frisbee, beer, brats, and banter.

Miller Park disappears from view inside a short over pass tunnel and then there she is looking like a mix of Ebbet’s Field, European train station, and outer space insect.

And when I’m far away roaming Montreal in search of nothing in particular, that descent into the valley is with me like a lucky roll of will, urban design, and destiny turning my feet into a wild card compass; guiding me towards unexpected places.

It’s just an old baseball field on the north side of Mount Royal beside Bates street, but my mind slips into focus.

The home run fence is equal in height from left field to right and equal in foliage hiding traces of an older identity. Only center field is metal and naked with clouds, sky, and horizon easily seen.

There’s a scoreboard in right center. Most of the bulbs for balls, strikes, and outs are missing. Five light towers hover over the field. There is something ethereal about baseball at night.

But there are no more games on this field. All the elements are free to fade away like a savage beach. The sun is out on this day and a family of four is playing. Dad is pitcher, mom catcher. Girl plays first base, boy bats. No one seems to know what day it is. Neither do I.

Delorimier Stadium leftovers-Jackie plaque

There are no ghosts on the base paths and no cleats crunching echoes on the asphalt, but I still wonder about kids from 1976 and their 7 inning game not being enough, hopping on sting ray bikes and riding east along Ducharme and north up St. Laurence  towards Jarry Park for a swim and the Expos hosting the San Diego Padres.

Or maybe it was 20 years earlier in 1956 and kids turned right on St. Laurent street and rode south and east towards Delorimier Stadium where the Montreal Royals were playing the Syracuse Chiefs and Jackie Robinson was at a second base or in the batter’s box adding to his .468 OB% that season, his only one in Montreal.