de-liriano-eees

i'm happy for the pirates.
because i too slammed my head against many walls,
more of a soft core equivalent to james brown,
no pimping for me,
but i made my share of false identity detours.

i dig honus wagner
and the world series pirate crowns
before the yankees even existed,
but that's all scratchy news reel stuff to me.

but i do remember barry bonds hanging his head
in color tv memory
after sid bream scored
and then barry leaving pittsburgh
and then the pirates becoming steve blass syndrome.

is liriano really worth it?
when is enough enough?
how many more one last chances?

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where will shawn marcum pitch next year?
are the brewers still bitter because he conked out at the end of the 2011 season?
who cares!
sign the marcum for half as much as liriano signed with the pirates
marcum's career numbers blow liriano away.

baseball's hot foot

i learned like the buddha about old age, dying, disease,
but i learned it all at county stadium.
i was a kid holding my dad's hand
looking for autographs.
i had no idea about...
paper beer cups exploding,
people making out under the bleachers,
giant urinal troughs,
drunk boxing matches,
and everyone eventually having to exit.

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chemistry on a baseball team
is like any other chemistry.
it's invisible and yet,
so many people take about chemistry
as one of the keys to success.

they might be right,
but why even talk about it?
it's like trying to describe a feeling between two people,
better left unsaid.

what gets me is people who preach that
chemistry has to be positive.
what about the yankees in the 70's?
and all the cat scratching between reggie and martin.
or what about the pirates in 1979?
that "we are family' hype was apparently an irony.
those guys were a mixture of ethnic upbringing variety,
inevitably loud and combative
or so phil garner remembers
in the book,
"The Pirates" by Lou Sahadi.

bert blyleven was on that 79 pirates team.
i met him a few years later as an indian.
i was hanging out beside the indians dugout at county stadium,
whining for autographs,
"mr. blyleven, mr. blyleven, will you sign this ball?"

next thing i knew mr. blyleven pointed to my shoe.
he had pranked me a hot foot.
i was initiated.
that's the only baseball chemistry i've ever known.