He Put A Number On His Back

The movie '42' opens today. It will tell us what happened. It will tell us that Jackie Robinson became the first black man to play major league baseball in 1947 in spite of racism that showed itself in the forms of verbal abuse and threats of physical harm.

It will tell us that Branch Rickey, the white general manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers, signed Robinson to a contract with the intent of his breaking the 'color barrier' and becoming a pioneer - a pioneer that is honored by every MLB franchise today. That's what happened.

I hope it tells us why it happened.

Because why it happened is for the glory of God.

As a young man, Branch Rickey coached the baseball team at Ohio Wesleyan University and it was there that:

". . . his Christian conviction collided head on with his love for the great game. Charles Thomas was recruited by Rickey to play catcher and was the only black player on the team. OWU traveled to South Bend, Indiana for a game against Notre Dame. When they arrived the hotel clerk refused to allow Thomas to stay because of a whites-only policy. Rickey persuaded the hotel to allow Thomas to go to his (Rickey's) room and later requested a cot. That evening Rickey found his catcher sobbing and rubbing his hands and arms convulsively while muttering, 'It's my skin. If only I could wipe off the color they could see I am a man like everybody else.' Rickey told him to, 'Buck up!' and said, 'We will beat this one day!' but later noted he never felt so helpless and vowed at that time that he would do whatever he could to end such humiliation." (from The ferocious Christian gentleman behind Jackie Robinson's famous moment)

Author Eric Metaxas, from his book Seven Men: And The Secret Of Their Greatness, records the kind of faith that animated Robinson and Rickey:

"Robinson was a Christian and his Christian faith was at the very center of his decision to accept Branch Rickey's invitation to play for the all-white Brooklyn Dodgers . . . Branch Rickey himself was a Bible-thumping Methodist whose faith led him to find an African American ballplayer to break the color barrier . . . At the center of one of the most important civil rights stories in America lies two men of passionate Christian faith." (from Jackie Robinson and the Pattern of Jesus)

Both men were men of abiding Christian faith and that faith was at the heart of, what Rickey called, 'the great experiement'.

Oh, it would be a great story had they been Hindu, or Jewish, or Buddhist, or some other faith. Or of no faith at all. Righting this wrong was, well, right, and most of us rejoice at those kinds of stories. However, if the faith of the two men was a key factor (and it seems to have been), then to leave it out would not be right and we would not rejoice, for we would have been told only a partial truth.

As I said, I hope they tell us why.

Opening Day 2013

I have, from time to time, gotten into 'arguments' over the virtues of baseball vs. football. And I have come to realize that these 'discussions' are of little merit. In the end each man usually remains convinced in his own mind as to the qualities of his favorite game.

The argument in favor of baseball goes something like, "beauty, timelessness, green grass, sun-splashed bleachers, pastoral, poetry, hot dogs, Babe Ruth, historical, fathers and sons" and so on. The case in favor of football goes something like, "most popular".

It goes without saying that I am in the baseball camp.

And happily, I am not alone. Pastor Kevin DeYoung had a post on his blog about why you should love our national pastime. Here's a taste:

"This week marks the beginning of baseball, for 150 years, our national pastime. Football may be the king of revenue and ratings, March Madness may be the most enjoyable three weeks of sports, the NHL may be the obsession north of the border, and the NBA may have bigger star power, but there is still no sport in this country better than baseball."

That is a very bold statement at the end there and DeYoung knows what you are thinking:

"I know the many knocks on baseball: The games are too slow. The season is too long. The contracts are too big. I know about steroids and strike-shortened seasons. I know the players chew and spit and adjust themselves too much. I know every pitcher except for Mark Buerhle takes too much time in between pitches. I know that purists hate the DH rule and almost everyone hates the Yankees. I understand if baseball is not your thing. You don't have to like our national pastime.

But you should."

DeYoung continues to make the argument for baseball in the paragraphs that follow. The whole article is worth reading if you like sports, especially baseball.

His conclusion:

"It's a long season. It's a slow season. It's a game of strategy and finely-honed skill more than brute force and raw athleticism. It's everything fans aren't supposed to want in their sports anymore.

Which makes it just perfect."

Indeed. The perfect game.

The Greatest Cardinal

When Babe Ruth died, many thousands came to Yankee Stadium for the viewing. Many of those paying respects brought along their sons. One father said something to the effect that he "someday wanted to be able to tell his son that he saw the greatest ball player who ever lived." I would not be surprised if something like this took place today at Cathedral Basilica of Saint Louis where the visitation for the late Stan Musial, the greatest Cardinal ball player who ever lived, is being held.

Nobody under 55 years old would probably remember seeing Musial play; he retired after the 1963 season. I remember my Dad saying that he saw the Cardinals play in St. Louis, at least once, so I would imagine he saw Musial. That's another conversation I would have liked to have had with Dad, "Tell me about Sportsman's Park, and the uniforms, and who played, and so on."

While I never saw him play, I was once in Musial's presence briefly. He was in Springfield for ball card show that my sister and I attended in the 80's. I was still working on my card collection in those days, but went to this show primarily for Musial's autograph. At the show, I bought a glossy photo for him to sign and when my turn came, I presented it to him and he signed. I said something like, "Thank you, sir," and I don't remember what he said, but he was polite, of course. Indeed, in the days since his passing, there have been as many stories told about Musial the gentleman as there have been about his Hall of Fame baseball career.

About 5 years or so after that meeting the time came for me to part with the bulk of my card collection. Finding a buyer was a little tricky for the market had begun to plateau or even fall off. And my collection was dominated by older cards, which weren't in vogue in the 90's. What you saw featured in the shops in those days (and today!) was high gloss and foil. But I did find a buyer for my cards and during the process of evaluating my cards, they discovered my affinity for the Cardinals and Musial. On the day they brought the check over, they threw in a little gift. A '53 Bowman of Musial. Not in the best condition, of course. There's a big crease right across Stan's schnoz, but still, it's a generous, and much appreciated gesture, even to this day.


Anyone who had seen Musial in some of his final public appearances knew that this day was coming. For years he held on as his contemporaries faded. Joe DiMaggio and Ted Williams are gone. There's a movie about Jackie Robinson coming out, but Jackie's been gone 40 years. Younger players like Willie Stargell and Kirby Puckett have been gone many years, yet Stan hung on for 92 years. Hung on until Saturday last.

I never saw him play and I won't be at the visitation in St. Louis today, yet I am fortunate that once, at a small ball card show in the 1980's, I laid eyes on the greatest Cardinal ball player ever.

Casual Friday

he's hurt for none will
admire his Cardinals jersey - 
casual Friday

Vin Scully, Southpaw

Here, from an interview with Hugh Hewitt, is Vin Scully talking about being left-handed 'back in the day' when school teachers were bent on making everybody right-handed.

"There were times when they were not too charitable to this red-headed kid, and the reason was that I was very, very left-handed. And every time I would use my left hand, the good nun would hit me across the back of the knuckles with the flat of the ruler. And if I insisted upon using my left hand, occasionally she would turn the ruler so that she would hit me with the edge of the ruler, which broke the skin. And one night at dinner, passing the bread or whatever, my mother saw this cut up hand, and she assumed that I had been punished for talking in class or whatever. And she would have been correct 99% of the time. But in this instance, I explained no, it’s because I’m using my left hand. Well, our family doctor, and I only use this because it works out very well, our family doctor was Jewish. And he sat down and wrote a letter to the Catholic nuns. And in the letter, he explained, among other things, that if you force this little boy to become right-handed, it might very well cause him to stutter, which would have changed my life dramatically. And then the last line of the letter, it said and besides, dear Sisters, why in the world would you want to change God’s work?"

As the interview continues, it is apparent that Scully is familiar with the Lord and gives Him credit for the good fortune in his life.

Jack Buck was always my favorite announcer but I would have dearly loved to been able to hear Scully on a regular basis.

Fenway and Pedro

An article at Grantland.com recounts the weekend the Boston Red Sox just completed, including the celebration observing the 100th Anniversary of the Fenway Park, the home field. Former pitcher Pedro Martinez talked about the Fenway experience:

"My feeling here is unique to Fenway. The funny thing is, you can't find it anywhere else. It must be the closeness of the people to you here. You mess it up, you're going to hear it. You do it well, you're going to hear it, too. You can feel the people breathing close to you. The only other place you can go to get that feeling? You got to go to winter ball (in the Dominican Republic)."

It's Poetry. It's Beauty. And It Smells Great.

Baseball is back.

Me And Bobby V

Had I been writing the lede for an article on the Boston Red Sox' hiring of Bobby Valentine as manager, I would have been tempted to say something like, "Orel Hershiser's analysis on ESPN's baseball broadcasts will no longer be obscured."

I noticed in October how much I enjoyed Hershiser's comments and wished I could hear him more and how much I wanted to hear Valentine's comments less. Well, now my wish has been granted and they will no longer be paired in the broadcast booth because Valentine has the manager gig in Boston and will be, presumably, otherwise occupied.

In fairness to Valentine he is brilliant. All the articles I read about his hire have relayed how he always had insights to the game that the writer was impressed with. So, this isn't to slam Valentine as much as it is to say I'm glad to hear Hershiser more.

Having said all that, I do appreciate Valentine's honest and thoughtful approach, and his fairness. I got to see this aspect of his character personally a few years ago.

When we lived in Ft. Worth, the first job I got was as an assistant to the Sports Director of a Christian radio station, KCBI. My job was to go out and about and get comments for air on drive time sports reports. It was summer and so I generally went to Arlington Stadium (the old one) to interview Rangers players. I know baseball best and so it seemed natural.

One morning I heard Valentine on Norm Hitzges' show and they were talking about an article that appeared in USA Today about Christian baseball players. The article had to do with the question of whether or not Christianity sapped some of the competitive fire from an athlete. (Obviously the writer had never seen church league softball.) Valentine addressed this question saying something to the effect that he had not seen where Christians were less competitive than others, and that big contracts were just as likely to make a guy complacent as anything.

Later that day I was at the ballpark and had a chance to speak to Valentine, who was managing the Rangers. We talked about the upcoming homestand and this and that. And then I commented that I was from a Christian station and I appreciated his views I had heard earlier in the day. I don't recall his exact words (it's been 20 years!), but he said something simple like, "that's how I see it," and left me with the impression that he just honestly reported what he saw, and wasn't necessarily interested in advocating for one side or the other.

This kind of unvarnished honesty may just be what the Red Sox need, though it won't win him popularity contests with some of his players. It is clear that things began to slide in Boston and Bobby's job will be to right the ship. And it's the sort of job that shortens a tenure. It will be interesting to see how soon the nerves get frayed. I wish him well, but it won't be easy.

Alou And Forsch

When I heard about Matty Alou, I was sad.

From FoxNews.com: Matty Alou, once part of an all-Alou outfield for the San Francisco Giants with brothers Felipe and Jesus, died Thursday in his native Dominican Republic. He was 72. 


A two-time All-Star, Alou became the 1966 National League batting champion with the Pirates when he hit .342. He spent his first six years with San Francisco from 1960-65 and also played for St. Louis, Oakland, the New York Yankees and San Diego.


"Although he played for six different teams, Matty remained a part of the Giants family as a longtime employee and will be forever linked with his brothers, Felipe and Jesus, - as the first all-brother major league outfield," the Giants said.

Being somewhat of a baseball buff, I knew about the three Alou boys starting in the same outfield in a major league game, but this next tidbit was news to me.

From CSNBayArea.com: Felipe, Matty, and Jesus Alou were each the first batter to ever come to the plate in a brand new stadium. Two of these events happened just one month apart!


On April 12, 1966, the Atlanta Braves opened Fulton County Stadium with a game against the Pittsburgh Pirates. The leadoff hitter for the Pirates that day was Matty Alou.


One month later, the St. Louis Cardinals unveiled Busch Stadium, and the visitors were the Braves. Batting first, Felipe Alou.


In 1969, the expansion San Diego Padres had their first game in San Diego Stadium. The Houston Astros were their first opponent, and Jesus Alou led off the game.

Amazing.

When I heard about Bob Forsch, I was shocked.

From the St. Louis Post-Dispatch: Bob Forsch, the only Cardinal to pitch two no-hitters and the third-winningest pitcher in franchise history, died Thursday at his home near Tampa, Fla., less than a week after throwing out the ceremonial first pitch at Game 7 of the World Series in St. Louis.


He was one of 30 players to have pitched two no-hit games in the major leagues and, with his brother, Ken, a part of the only brother combination to toss no-hitters.

I don't have anything to add - I didn't know these men, but still it seems too soon and too sudden, especially in the case of Forsch. It kinda feels like I knew them. Probably because I've got these -

Alou's cards are 1965, '68, and '72; Forsch's are '75, '78, and '80

LaRussa Retires

The top story today, in the opinion of the Central Standard, is the retirement of Tony LaRussa.  My isssues with LaRussa's style of play have been well-documented. I have always preferred the pressing, running, bunting style of Whiteyball that the Cards played in the 80's to Tony's American League approach with big hitters playing station-to-station, waiting for somebody to deliver the big hit.

But regardless of style, there's no questioning LaRussa's success. He's third in all-time victories as a manger, he has six pennants and 3 World Series championships. He revolutionized the way bullpens are used in baseball today. He is probably the greatest manager of his era. And in 5 years or so he will be inducted into baseball's Hall of Fame in Cooperstown.

And this year, as it appeared he had mellowed a bit, as I became more comfortable with his approach and its obvious success, he probably turned in his best performance. The Cardinals' journey to and through the postseason has been well-documented, and it mustn't be forgotten, for it is the context, the subtext, the atmosphere in which LaRussa did his finest work.

And we learned today that Tony had made the decision to retire about the same time as his ball club began to get busy. It was coincidental, he said, but still one can't help but try to connect the dots.

Tony's decision surprised me initially, but regarding all the circumstances (the World Series title, his age, his health, Dave Duncan's future, Albert Pujols' future, to name a few) it really makes a lot of sense.

For all the aggravation I felt about him over the years I always anticipated this day would bring me some relief. But it doesn't. Darn it, Tony, you made a believer out of me and now you up and leave.

One final aggravation.

"Game 6" Or, "Only Mostly Dead"

I'll have more to say later about the Cardinals' 11th World Series championship, but I want to get this link up before it goes away forever. Game 6 of the Series was one of the greatest ballgames ever played. Too many self-satisfied commentors have questioned how good it could have been because there were 5 errors. If not for the errors, the game would not have fallen out the way it did. It simply would have been a typical game that ended 7-4, or something. The drama of the 8th, 9th, 10th, and 11th innings probably wouldn't have happened.

However, part of what made the game so special was the context of the Cardinals' well-documented journey through the post-season. This team was pronounced dead numerous times during the year. But they were only mostly dead. They weren't all dead, as the Braves, Phillies, Brewers, and Rangers can swear to.

Here, from the Cardinals' web site and for your pleasure, is the recap of Game 6, the likes of which we may never see again.

The All Star Game, 2011, Et Al.

Right out of the box we ask, "What's up with Joe Buck's voice?" Undoubtedly, a summer cold or allergies, but my first thought was, "Man, it's going to be a long night for him." I would have hated to be in his spot.

But, "It's not jury duty," as Willie Mays said today about showing up to the All-Star Game. Except he didn't.

The game was being played in Arizona for the first time which led to the Trivia Question about which major league teams have yet to host an All Star Game. A question I answered correctly, by the way. I would guess that when the new stadium for the Marlins is complete, that Florida (soon to be Miami) will host a game rather soon. Which will leave Tampa as the only franchise to not host a game. And if they don't get their attendance issues solved there, they never will and the Rays will be in Vegas or Vancouver or Brooklyn or something.

With the Florida Marlins becoming the Miami Marlins soon, I propose we get the other state name teams to do the same. Let's hear those city names, please! I'm talking to you Phoenix, Denver, Minneapolis and Dallas! I could cut Minnesota a little slack since the team name Twins refers to the Twin Cities - Minneapolis and St. Paul. Minneapolis Twins wouldn't mean the same.

Speaking of Minnesota, is there a better uniform in the game than the Twins road uni? OK, there surely is, but goodness! It is excellent.

And it puts me in mind of Minnesota's NHL franchise which has a beautiful sweater. I don't know if any location has put out two nicer uniforms in such a short period of time.

Other uniform-related notes -

- Cleveland's road uniform is also excellent. It has an historic feel to it, similar to the Red Sox and the Yankees.

- How about the stars bracketing the MLB logo on the backs of both the cap and the jersey? I like it. I'm still not fond of the embroidery on the sides of the caps for All Star games and the World Series.

- And why is Rollie Fingers shown in his Milwaukee Brewers uniform in the Pepsi commercial? He became a star, a Hall-of-Famer, in Oakland. Let's see Rollie in the green and gold, please.

The Arizona franchise is named the Diamondbacks, a reference the the desert-dwelling rattlesnake that, I assume, gets preferred parking, which reminds me of this story. In any case, the D-Backs use a 'snakey' looking font for their uniforms and for the All Star Game, which you can see here. I immediately began to wonder what other animals might be suggested in font form. I came up with nothing.

I liked Sprint's 'Angry Birds' commercial. Whoever created those little guys did a great job, they are really fun to look at and lend themselves to being logos very easily. I am especially fond of the triangular yellow guy.

Anyway, one of these days there will be a sports story with 'Angry Birds' in the headline. Mark it down.

And, there was a game. The National League won 5-1 and there weren't a lot of highlights, though you have to give props to Heath Bell for his entrance into the game. I find, as I age, I am less passionate about some things that would have riled me up years ago. The All Star Game is one of those things. But, I still had a good time watching it.

Hey, it's not jury duty.

Sparky Anderson

Nice remembrance of Sparky Anderson, whose jersey was retired by the Detroit Tigers Sunday.

"We used to be in the car and we'd bet, as he was talking with other people," (his daughter Shirlee) Engelbrecht said. "We'd say, 'When he comes back, he's going to say, 'That's the nicest person I've ever met." And every time he'd come back -- whether it was old, young, male, female -- he'd get in the car, and he'd say, 'That's the nicest person I've ever met.' And then we'd just start laughing."

Anderson, a Hall of Fame manager, led the Tigers to the World Series title in 1984. He had won championships in 1975 and '76 with the Cincinnati Reds.

Jim Riggleman

Probably the wackiest baseball story from the weekend is Jim Riggleman's resignation from the Nationals. The argument is did he stand on principle or did he quit?

Frankly, I'm torn. I want to like Riggleman and I want to think he acted on principle. But he just quit - over an extension. I like to think there's more to it, but I haven't heard it yet.

From Tim Kurkjian at ESPN:

"Riggleman left at the height of a franchise's success, the players were hustling and they were listening, but he quit because the Nationals management wasn't sure he was part of the future. However confusing and incomprehensible it may appear, it is that simple."

And:

"Either way, Riggleman quit, left the ballpark without a job, and likely will never manage again. Anyone who knows Jim Riggleman knows he's not a quitter; he is the opposite -- a guy who would do anything to win, a man's man in every way. But in his mind, a man can be disrespected for only so long before he has to do what he thinks is right. So he stood on principle, and the Nationals let him walk. And in the end, no one was right. And no one won. And everyone was mad."

Joe Posnanski for the prosecution:

"Here's the thing, and I mean this with deep respect: He is JIM RIGGLEMAN. It seems difficult for me to believe that he was unaware of this. His teams have never won a World Series. His teams have never won a pennant. His teams have only once made the playoffs, and that was a not especially great 89-win Cubs team that won a one-game playoff. Ten of his 12 teams had losing records in his span as skipper. He lost 100 with a Padres team that was in the playoffs two years after he got canned. He lost 95 with a Cubs team that made the playoffs the very next year. For managers with 1,400 or more games, no one from 1900 on has a lower winning percentage than Jim Riggleman, and that includes this lovely little winning stretch. The amazing thing to me, I am forced to admit, is not that Riggleman did not get a contract extension. It's that he had a contract in the first place."

There's more:

"Jim Riggleman quit on his team and his players over his contract. I want, so much, to sympathize with him, but it's hard to get much less admirable than that. The only thing missing from his career suicide was a note."

All in all, I think the weight of the evidence leans toward Riggleman appearing to be selfish. I, too, want to give him the benefit of the doubt. But right now it looks as if Riggleman took doubt out the door with him.

Paul Splittorff

I didn't appreciate this guy as much as he probably deserved. I don't even think I have a card of him. I wasn't much of a Royals fan, though I did follow that '78 team pretty well, probably a better team than either of their pennant winners. That season coincided with a dark period in the life of the Cardinals, so I would listen to Royals games on the radio and come out of my room to announce the results, usually a win, to my dad. He always seemed underwhelmed by this.

Anyway, here's good stuff on Paul Splittorff.

Killer Cancer

Harmon Killebrew has died.

I don't want to make anything more of this than it was - I didn't know him personally, he wasn't my favorite player or on my favorite team.

But he occupied a place in my childhood, as the 1968 Topps baseball card of mine (right) testifies. I knew who he was, of course. He was a mighty, mighty home run hitter, Paul Bunyanesque even, which is appropriate for an athlete tearing up the field in Minnesota. A terrific hitter and, by all accounts, a terrific person, which is good.

And yet, there is something very sad about Killebrew's death to me, something I can't quite put my finger on, but I have a notion what it is. I suppose what's bugging me can be summed up by critics as the usual sentimental and superstitious tripe that effervesces from a Christian worldview.

I have no desire to be maudlin, to drum up emotions that aren't there or even necessary. Something is just bugging me, that's all. Killebrew's death is sad and I hope his family finds comfort in the days to come. It is sad because another man whose work I admired as a child became old enough to die and that means the clock is ticking. For everybody. Maybe I'm just sobered by the brevity of life and the certainty of its end.

And maybe I'm sobered by the idea that being a terrific person isn't enough when the end comes.

What I Think I Think: Pujols Edition

That twisting and grinding metal noise you've been hearing for the last day or two is the sound of the Gateway Arch wringing its hands. There is consternation and wailing and moaning abroad in the Mound City and indeed, throughout the Midwest. And why, you ask, all these St. Louis blues?

The Spring has come and Albert is unsigned.

Albert Pujols, the best baseball player on the planet and the first baseman for the St. Louis Cardinals is about to embark on the final year of his contract with what appears to be every intention of exploring free agency in the fall. I have read much of what's been written and seen much of what's been shown on this and I've formed my own ideas about this whole affair and I've put them down below.

I think everybody should calm down. We've a whole season to go and the Cardinals will field a competitive team once again. Don't miss the ride just because you don't like the bump at the end. And . . .

I think we should remember that free agency is part of our world and stop being romantic. Many have bemoaned the "lack of loyalty" and "greed" that appears to be on display. We've had free agency since the mid-70's and this is the landscape and has been for two generations or so. "Happily Ever After" is great, but it's not real, it's in storybooks. I don't like it any more than the next guy, I despise Marvin Miller for his role in bringing it to pass and a pox on anyone who advocates his election to the Hall of Fame. Nevertheless, it's here and "happily ever after" is not. To that end . . .

I think we need to stop comparing Albert Pujols to Stan Musial. I understand all the reasons a person is tempted to do so. I would never say that Musial was anything but loyal, but he also didn't have Pujols' opportunities. (And don't mention the Mexican League thing - it's apples to oranges.) Players didn't have the option of playing out the contract and signing elsewhere in Stan's day. The Reserve Clause bound a player to a team. I get that Stan and Albert were/are the greatest of their day and that both played for the Cardinals and that both are honorable men. But comparing them is like comparing a Philco radio to an iphone. Different eras.

I think the Cardinals have been planning for this all along. Up until Pujols hits the market, St. Louis is bidding against themselves. To sign him, the Cardinals have to give him his price. Come the fall, the market will determine what a 32 year-old hitter who is nicked up every year is worth. Granted, he is an historically great 32 year-old hitter.

I think Albert's position is primarily about respect and not about dollars per se.This may be a little hard to grasp for some. Year-in and year-out Pujols is reminded that he is the best player in the game. He's won 3 National League MVP awards and was second in that voting 4 other times. In 10 years! He is the best and, accordingly, he wants the best contract. He's not thinking about dollars like you and I think about dollars. He's thinking about respect and place and honor. The dollars are just the scoreboard.

I think Albert will sign with the Cardinals when all is said and done. I might be wrong but as I said above, I think the Cardinals have been prepping for this. They want Albert and Albert wants to be in St. Louis, though not at any price. I think free agency will set the price and the Cardinals will pay it and Albert will sign. That said . . . .

I think a wicked part of me wonders what Albert would look like in a Red Sox uniform and taking dead aim at the Green Monster 81 games a year for the next decade. Wow.

What About Tony?

Update: I didn't even get this posted (I wrote it this morning, but had to wait til the afternoon to post) before things changed, which I feared would happen. It appears from ESPN that LaRussa and the Cardinals are working things out. If so, my hunch, below, was wrong.

Cardinals manager Tony LaRussa is in the midst of his, now regular, re-evaluation process concerning whether he wishes to return for another season in the St. Louis dugout. Most observers believe he will, but count me among the unsure.

A month ago, I was certain that Tony was done. I don't remember what he said or how he said it, but something about some comments he made caused me to think it was his last go around. Since then, I've heard all the commentators say they believe he'll return and I, more or less, acquiesced to the conventional wisdom.

But I'm back on the doubting side now. Here's this from a chat by Joe Strauss of the Post-Dispatch. A question asked was:

"Did you expect TLR to have made his decision by now?"

Strauss' reply:

"There are those within the organization increasingly concerned TLR is preparing to bolt. I'm not there yet."

And today, the Post-Dispatch's Bernie Miklasz made a list, all speculative, of reasons Tony may be hesitant to make a decision. Maybe he's tired, or maybe it's the organizational changes or maybe he's waiting to see if someone comes calling for his services. Whatever it is, Miklasz' overriding point is that it's taking an awfully long time to make a decision that he could have begun to process when it became apparent the Cards weren't going to the postseason, which was mid-August.

So, I've come back to where I was about 6 weeks ago.

I think Tony is done.

The Penurious Pirates

See, all along, you thought the Pirates were in Pittsburgh. But no. The Pirates are from some place called penurious. You doubt me? I have proof. From the Minneapolis Star-Tribune in an article outlining the management changes of baseball clubs since the season ended:

"John Russell was booted by the penurious Pirates after 299 defeats in three seasons, which extended the woebegone franchise's consecutive losing years to a major league record 18."

The Penurious Pirates. As plain as day. Penurious must be in Minnesota and I say that for two reasons.

First, as odd as it is for a common sports article to whoop out the word 'penurious', the paper in Minneapolis' sister city, St. Paul, used the same word shortly thereafter. From the Pioneer-Press:

"For years these have been the lovable, do-no-wrong Twins who persevered despite a penurious owner, pathetic payroll and abominable stadium."

So the Pirates and the owner of the Minnesota Twins are from penurious.

Second, the Pirates were also called the 'woebegone franchise'. This must be the same part of the country that Minnesotan Garrison Keillor is always telling tales about.

So, the Pirates are from penurious, which is in Minnesota and this is why they play ball in the NL Central and not the East.

Class dismissed.

One More Time For Bobby Cox

I've been rooting against Bobby Cox for a long time, since 1990, at least. Rooting for your favorite team means your are rooting against everybody else. Rooting for the Cardinals means rooting against the Braves and Cox.

But with St. Louis all but out of it, it would be all right with me if the Braves were World Champs in Cox's last season at the helm.

You could read about what a classy guy he is, right here.