Haven't we seen this before?

It looks as if Tony La Russa figured out what to do with Scott Rolen, which makes one wonder if he read a few of the previous entries here… hey, it could happen. I know a player or two who said they read this blog.

Then again, I haven't been punched in the face by a player yet, so I guess they were just blowing smoke.

Anyway, Rolen batted sixth and played his typical third base in Saturday’s Game 3 rout which put the Cardinals and their 83-regular season victories just two more wins from the World Series and a rematch of the 1968 Series. Scott Spiezio, Rolen's replacement at third base in two post-season games also started (left field) and contrubted with his second, two-run triple in as many games.

But Rolen snapping his big, post-season slump with a walk and a single mixed in with his Brooks-Robinson-and-Mike-Schmidt-all-rolled-into-one defense isn’t even half the story. Apparently, as I assumed (yeah, there’s that pronoun again. Hey, it’s my blog!) Rolen and La Russa may need some counseling.

Gee, no one saw that coming.

Jim Salisbury, for my money (what there is of it) the most interesting baseball writer out there, rightly analyzed the rift in the Inquirer today and even asked Rolen if he would be interested in a return to Philadelphia. If there is anyone who can offer an astute read on the situation it’s Salisbury since he’s seen it all before. Plus, there are very few writers that I have come across who the players respect more than Salisbury.

But enough of that… let’s get back to Rolen.

Next to Randy Wolf and Doug Glanville, Rolen is the smartest ballplayer I’ve met. However, he’s also the most sensitive. As Salisbury points out, Rolen is high-maintenance. He needs to be kept in the loop and also needs self-assurance and what he deems as fairness. I recall a time where Rolen and Larry Bowa had a long, pre-game meeting because Bowa, looking for a spark, moved Rolen to the No. 2 spot in the batting order. At the same time, Bowa shifted Bobby Abreu over to center field, but with Abreu all the manager did was walk over to his locker and ask him if he was OK with playing center field.

With Rolen, it took a closed-door meeting for a batting order shift.

As one Phillie management type once told me: “Scotty worries about everything. He cares about how the cars are parked in the parking lot… ”

The Phillies, not exactly the most astute in reading situations, placating feelings or being sensitive to others, weren’t too far off here.

Because of that Rolen, like any classic high achieving, high-maintenance person, not only expects a lot out of himself, but he also has high standards for others.

Pardon the dime store psychiatry, but as someone with similar traits – excluding the high achieving part, of course – it’s easy to understand that Rolen needs a lot of understanding. Perhaps that’s why he is the most entertaining player out there. His neurosis is on display constantly from his habits in the batter's box to how he takes the field and his human cannonball style. What makes all that more than shtick is that he can actually play.

I can’t think of a player I’ve ever enjoyed watching more.

But through the neurosis, stubbornness and sensitivity, Rolen has to know he can’t win a battle against La Russa. Come on… he’s smarter than that. It’s not about leverage or public opinion or anything like that. It’s that La Russa is right. Sure, La Russa has an ego as large as every successful baseball man, but he isn’t Larry Bowa. It might be wise for Rolen to get past his natural tendencies and all of that other stuff and try to iron it out with La Russa.

Besides, the Cardinals won both of the playoff games where La Russa benched Rolen.

It's the playoffs!
It may be a knee-jerk reaction, but the Cardinals might have the Mets right where they want them. This series might not be going back to Shea.

Reason? To borrow and paraphrase a political campaign mantra, it’s the pitching, stupid.

When Steve Traschel is your team’s Game 3 starter, there’s trouble. When reliever Darren Oliver gets two (two!) at-bats, there’s trouble. When Oliver is pitching six innings in one game, there’s trouble. When Endy Chavez… well, you get the idea.

The fact of the matter is the Mets’ injuries are just too much to overcome. If they can comeback and win the series, I’ll sing New York’s hosannas, but I just don’t see it happening.

At the same time, I don’t see the Tigers losing the World Series. In that regard, here’s the question I posed a couple of the Phillies writers:

How can the Tigers go from losing 119 games to winning the World Series and the Phillies can only make the playoffs once in the last 23 years?

Anyone?

Apropos...
... of nothing, is it tacky for a media member to dial up other media outlets to "volunteer" his "expertise" on their airwaves? I think so.

Who's at third? Not Polanco

Note: this was written a few innings before Placido Polanco was named MVP of the ALCS.

It’s always unfair to play the “what if” game, but it’s also part of the fun (or agony) of being a baseball fan. No, in this case it isn’t second-guessing or weighing your smarts against those of the manager or players, it pushing ahead the sands of time.

Imagine for a moment if Pat Gillick would have been the Phillies’ general manager during the 2005 season instead of Ed Wade. That was the year when Placido Polanco famously started at second base ahead of Chase Utley on opening day and garnered a bunch of starts – as well as late-inning defensive replacement duty – much to the chagrin to certain segments of the media and the fans.

I believed then as I believe now that Polanco ahead of Utley was the right move. Utley, as some of us recall, was still viewed as a raw free-swinging hitter who also needed work in the field.

That didn’t last too long though.

Polanco then, as he is now, is about as fundamentally sound a ballplayer there is. From a sheer, basic baseball-geek standpoint, Placido Polanco has to be your favorite player. He does everything right.

So imagine that Gillick is in control of the Phillies roster in 2005 when the team had Polanco, Utley and David Bell. Do you think the Phillies would still have Polanco if Gillick were in charge? Do you think Bell would have ended up in Milwaukee or some other baseball port-of-call sooner than July of 2006?

I do. I bet a lot of other people do to.

What if the Phillies had Polanco at third base instead of David Bell in 2005 and Abraham Nunez in 2006? Can you imagine a team with an infield of Polanco, Utley, Jimmy Rollins and Ryan Howard? Polanco in the No. 2 spot in the batting order, with just 43 strikeouts in his last 860-plus plate appearances?

Man… it’s just not fair.

Trust me here: Ed Wade was asked about all of this. So, too, was Charlie Manuel. For some reason they had a unbending loyalty to Bell as the third baseman. Maybe it was the $17 million they were paying him for four years to hit below .200 against righties in 2005? Whatever it was, the common answer we heard was that “Polly is a second baseman … ”

Or something like that.

Well, if that’s true, why has he only committed 15 errors in 322 games at third base during his career, including just a league-leading eight in 131 games during 2002? How come he played five games in left field when Pat Burrell was banged up during ’05?

What kind of pictures did David Bell have of the Phillies’ brass?

Ultimately, Polanco was sent to Detroit on June 8, 2005 for Ugueth Urbina. Since then, Polanco has hit .313 for the Tigers, not including the .412 in the ALDS or .529 in the ALCS with a key, two-out single to bring up Magglio Ordonez in the ninth inning.

All Ordonez did was smack the pennant-clinching homer to send the Tigers to the World Series.

Urbina, on the other hand, remains in a Venezuelan prison for an alleged Pulp Fiction re-enactment gone awry.

At the time, as I recall, many of the scribes hailed the trade as a good deal. The thinking was that since the Phillies weren’t going to use Polanco as an every day player, they might as well get something for him. There were a few others, however, who thought this logic was faulty. Why shouldn’t Polanco play every day in Philadelphia? The goal is to win and go to the playoffs, right? If so, keep Polanco and get rid of Bell.

Who cares if he’s a second baseman?

It's the playoffs!

So, do I get credit for predicting Billy Wagner’s blown game in Game 2 of the NLCS? Well, I didn’t actually predict it, but I admitted that I rooted for Wagner to blow the save it in Game 1. I can’t figure out why, either, since Billy was always fair to me though I know he was annoyed by me asking him about throwing his slider?

I can’t figure out why he won the Philadelphia chapter of the BBWAA’s “Good Guy” award in 2005, either.

Wait… yeah I can. Never mind.

Nevertheless, Wagner entered last night’s game in the ninth with the score tied and promptly gave up the game-winning home run to So Taguchi. Actually, it wasn’t so prompt. Taguchi failed off four pitches before knocking one into the seats to wreck Wagner and the Mets’ evening. Interestingly, I made a note to myself during that at-bat that Taguchi was right on Wagner’s high fastball and that if he could get his bat out a fraction of a fraction of a second quicker, it was bye-bye Billy.

I’m not making that up – I made a note of it.

I wonder if anyone asked Wagner about his slider last night?

Wagner, as mentioned, was brought into the ninth inning of a tie game – a tactic that a lot of managers use with their closer. Larry Bowa used to do it with Wagner, and so did Charlie Manuel. In fact, Manuel says he views a four-run lead as a save situation even though the criteria for a save indicates otherwise.

I’m on the fence about the closer-in-the-ninth-of-a-tie-game theory. It’s hard to say it’s a good idea or a bad one unless every situation is pored over. However, in the layoffs, it’s always all hands on deck. My guess is that manager Willie Randolph would have used Wagner for a second inning if he would have slipped through the ninth unscathed. Instead, he had to get Wagner out of there so he didn’t rack up the pitches with three more games looming in St. Louis.

Plus, with the Mets’ pitching in the shape its in with all of those injuries, Wagner should be ready to go to work. He’s going to be busy with the five-playoff games in five days.

Meanwhile, on the American League side, it looks like Detroit is going to be able to be able to rest up and set their pitching rotation for the World Series while the two beat-up National League clubs beat up on each other some more.

Speaking of beat up, I guess I don’t know what goes on inside of the mind of manager Tony La Russa. Maybe that guy knows a thing or two about baseball?

Previously, I wrote that it would make more sense for La Russa to slide down struggling All-Star Scott Rolen in the batting order, a la Joe Torre and A-Rod, because Rolen’s glove at third base is just too valuable.

Shows you what I know.

La Russa benched Rolen and used him as a late-inning defensive replacement while Scott Spiezio batted fifth and went 2-for-4 with three RBIs, including a clutch, two-run triple.

When Rolen came in the game to play third in the ninth inning, the first hitter smacked one destined for left field until the six-time gold glover dived to his left – on his bum shoulder, no less – to make a spectacular play to get the out.

So who is going to play La Russa in the movie? Didn’t Tim Robbins play Albert Einstein?

Needless to say, Rolen is pretty peeved. Stubborn, sensitive and proud, it’s unlikely he’s going to get over the snub any time soon. I’ve heard of him to hold long-time grudges for less. However, if Rolen was good enough for La Russa to play every day during the stretch run when the third baseman says his shoulder wasn’t as healthy as it is now, maybe the manager should stand by his man.

About the situation, Rolen told the Post-Dispatch: "This isn't the time or the place to have a personal issue between a player and a manager. I'm going to get ready to play tonight, keep an eye on the game and if I get a chance try to make a difference."

La Russa doesn't think it will be a problem, either.

"I'm not going to create a problem. I can't believe he's going to create the problem. So where's the problem, except he's worried about playing?" he said to the St. Louis paper. "I'm just trying to win the game, buddy."

Then again, Spiezio has a history of getting big hits in big playoff games. Ask the Dusty Baker and the Giants about that.

Johnny Callison 1939-2006

For my parents’ generation, Johnny Callison was the man. For those Phillies teams that had one really good year in 1964, but continued the rest of the 1960s struggling for mediocrity, Callison was the team’s second-best player behind Richie Allen. Compared to the sometimes enigmatic and distant Allen, Callison seemed to be the player the fans could relate to.

Perhaps that had to do with the complexion of the issue – I don’t know. The Phillies certainly had problems with race issues during that time, which was documented in surprisingly publicity-shrouded book September Swoon, authored by William C. Kashatus and the very astute Gerald Early.

It’s definitely the book the Phillies don’t want you to read.

Those are issues for a different time, though. Today is for remembering Johnny Callison, the MVP of the 1964 All-Star Game. Callison died at age 67 today in Abington after an illness. Callison was made so at home when playing for the Phillies from 1960 to 1969 that he stayed in the area, living in Glenside.

Callison, though, was not one to hang out at the ballpark after his playing days. I should say he didn’t hang out at the park during the past six years the way old-timers Dick Allen, Greg Luzinski, and Gary Maddox do. Perhaps that’s why all I know about Callison was that he was MVP of the ’64 All-Star Game on the strength of his extra-inning, game-winning home run at Shea Stadium off Dick Radatz, and the fans liked him a lot.

Looking at his statistics show that he had some decent power during five years of his prime, twice driving in more than 100 runs and slugging more than 30 homers. He was an All-Star three times and was second in the MVP voting in 1964. That’s a pretty nice career.

Plus, he must have been doing something right to be such a favorite.

That’s not a bad way to be remembered.

It's the playoffs!

Based on how Game 1 of the NLCS shook out, the series could turn out to be one of those grinding seven-game series where one player could make a difference. Perhaps that player could be Carlos Beltran, who I'm sure the Cardinals are sick of seeing.

Beltran, of course, had that monster series during the 2004 NLCS in which he nearly single-handidly beat the Cardinals when he was playing for the Astros. Counting those seven games from 2004 and last night’s game, Beltran has homered in five of the last eight playoff games against the Cards for seven RBIs and 13 runs. Beltran is 11-for-28 (.393) in those games, which is odd since he is just a .225 hitter with four homers during 40 regular-season career games against St. Louis.

I guess it’s a playoff thing.

Speaking of playoff things, Scott Rolen’s playoff-swoon continued with an 0-for-3 in Game 1. For those counting, that’s one hit in his last 29 playoff at-bats after hitting that home run off Roger Clemens in Game 7 of the 2004 NLCS. Judging from Rolen’s swing from the vantage point of a comfortable chair in my living room (not Shea Stadium), Rolen’s shoulder still isn’t feeling too good despite his comments to the contrary.

Nevertheless, I don’t think manager Tony La Russa will move Rolen out of the starting lineup because his glove at third base is just too valuable.

Meanwhile, it was a rough night all over for the Cardinals' hitters -- obviously. However, the dearth of hitting was only part of the problem, which, obviously again, Mets' starter Tom Glavine had a lot to do with (7 IP, 4 H, 2 BB, 2 K). But a couple of base-running gaffes, including Albert Pujols' inexplicable one when getting doubled off first in the fourth inning, were quite costly.

Regardless, something tells me that Pujols will more than make up for his blunder during this series. Call it a hunch.

Other observations
Why was I hoping Billy Wagner would blow the two-run lead in the ninth? I have nothing against Wagner personally or professionally, but for some reason I thought it would have been funny to see him cough one up. Maybe I was thinking about the colorful quotes the scribes would have gleaned from him after the game.

Or maybe I wsa thinking about dozens of writers heading down to the clubhouse doing Wagner impressions...

Based on Glavine and Wagner's work, it looks as if the Mets are trying to come in on a lot of the Cardinals' hitters. I wonder how long that plan will last.

As far as the ALCS goes, will Detroit be able to get the ballpark in shape for the World Series after this weekend? Are the Tigers going to punch their ticket? Is there any way that series goes back to Oakland?

Here's something interesting (and correct) from Buster Olney's blog on ESPN.com:

GM Pat Gillick has yet to make his mark on the Phillies, writes Bill Conlin. I would respectfully disagree: In the last year, the Phillies have dealt Jim Thome and Bobby Abreu and others and shaved an enormous amount of payroll off their roster, and they have turned their clubhouse culture over to Chase Utley and Ryan Howard. There is more work to be done, for sure, as Bill writes, but creating that kind of payroll flexibility is not simple.

Best bets

Last week: 3-0!
Year to date: 4-4

Yeah, well I hate to brag, but in case everyone forgot to notice, I went a perfect 3-0 in my football selections last week. Of course that comes after the 0-3 debacle of the week prior, so it appears as if I’m hit or miss.

Either way, I believe the success has to do with the Minnesota pick and the reasoning behind it (Todd Zolecki and Bob Dylan went there). From what I can gather, that type of logic is how the pros pick ‘em.

Anyway, let’s get busy on this weekend’s slate:

Eagles plus 3 over Saints
I’m going back to the well with the Eagles after they had a strong showing against Dallas last Sunday. Conventional wisdom would indicate that the Eagles are due for a letdown, but I don’t do anything the easy way. I also don’t understand the concept behind conventional wisdom, so take the Birds and the points.

Clemson minus 44 over Temple
If Temple wins this game it will go down as the greatest upset in the history of upsets. But since we all have seen what has happened with Temple over the past three decades, we know there is no chance of that happeining. However, Temple could cover that gigantic, six TD spread.

Don’t count on it.

I heard on the radio while driving home from Starbucks that the BCS releases its first poll this weekend. That means Clemson, ranked No. 12 and already sporting a loss, will have to show-off in order to climb the charts. That means they will have to run it up. That’s bad news for Temple.

Besides, Clemson is 14-3 against the spread in its last 17 night games.

Michigan minus 6 over Penn State
The theme is the local teams this week. Night games, too, since Temple plays on Thursday night on TV. Since this is a prime time game and Michigan is really much, much better than Penn State, call it the lock of the week. If I knew how to do tricky web programming, I’d place a big bolted lock where the bullet is.

Take ‘em to the bank, folks. I’m hot.

Surreal

Needless to say, the past 24 hours have been very surreal. Yes, that sounds like a cliché, but I’m not really sure if there is any other way to describe it.

It was surreal when Matt Yallof called me from the set of the SNY studio ready to go on the air as his role of host for the Mets’ pre-game show before Game 1 of the NLCS. Matt had heard some weird news and wanted to know if I had heard the same thing.

“There’s a report out there that it was Lidle’s plane that went into the building,” Matt said. “Do you know anything?”

As soon he spoke that sentence, my instant messengers, text messages and two telephones erupted simultaneously. Ignoring that cacophony, I immediately hung up with Matt, IM’d Mike Radano, and figured, “forget that, I’ll call him.”

Mike and Cory were pretty tight, to the point that they not only played many rounds of golf together, but also frequently talked to one another about baseball and other things that friends discuss. In fact, it got to the point where if something odd occurred in a game and we couldn’t figure out what was happening from the press box, we’d press Mike into text messaging Cory down in the dugout or clubhouse. That’s how we got the lowdown on why Cory was ejected from a game last June against Tampa Bay.

I got Mike on the way home from the bus stop with his boys and came right out with it.

“What have you heard,” I asked.

“About what?”

He didn’t know.

“I’m not joking around. I’m being very serious. I just got a phone call from Matt Yallof and he said the plane in New York was flown by Cory… ”

“I’m calling,” he said and hung up.

The next time I heard from him he was on CNN with Anderson Cooper.

Then I saw Cory’s picture on CNN with the “1972-2006” beneath it.

I felt like I was going to throw up.

The phone and the computer remained busy until the early hours of the next morning. I turned off the TV just to escape those ominous dates. I had not thought about it until now, but 1972 is a year behind me and the same year my sister was born.

Of course, curiosity got the better of me. I flipped CNN back on and saw Dennis Deitch with Paula Zahn. Then Todd Zolecki with Larry King. And of course, Radano with Anderson Cooper.

Later, I told Radano that I could imagine Cory thinking it was kind of funny that people he knew were on CNN as noted experts. Heck, even I got a few invitations to join the media fray.

Through it all, I couldn’t stop thinking about Cory. I vividly recall the last time I saw him – in the hallway next to the conference room after his trade to the Yankees had been announced. We shook hands, wished each other good luck and then I noticed Jimmy Rollins sitting on the floor with his back against the wall.

Why was he sitting there like that?

Still, I can still see his knowing smirk, and I can see him waiting there at that island in the center of the clubhouse waiting to chat after a game. I remembered his first day in Philadelphia when he drove all night from Cincinnati after he had been traded late in the 2004 season. I remember seeing his little boy dash around the clubhouse with the other kids. I remember him telling me about his outing at Pine Valley and how he sculled a shot that nailed the flagstick on a totally different green than the one he was aiming for. I remember when he indicated that he had read my blog. I didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or flattered. I remember laughing out loud when he explained the real reason why he was tossed out of that game against the Devil Rays last June.

There are too many things to remember and just not enough time.

Anyway, though I’m sure Cory would get a big kick out of seeing people he knows talk about him on national television, I don’t think the sadness would go over too well. So from now on we’re getting back to our regularly scheduled programming. After all, time is much too short.

Speaking of which, Cory had a wicked sense of humor and I bet he would have found it a bit amusing that Alec Baldwin was a little inconvenienced yesterday... too bad, Alec.

The day Thurman died

Note: this is an essay written in 2003 about my recollections of Thurman Munson, the great Yankee catcher who died in a plane crash in Canton, Ohio in August of 1979. For some reason I thought it was poignant today. Thanks for indulging me.

It's kind of odd, how clearly I remember the day Thurman Munson died. In fact, the moment I heard the news on the radio that late summer night in Laurel, Md. during 1979, is probably one of the most memorable baseball memories I own. And trust me, I have a lot of baseball memories.

Like I said, I heard the news on the radio just before I was going to crawl into bed. I remember it was a Monday night and for some reason ABC wasn't televising a national game that night. For an eight-year-old whose life revolved around baseball, no game on TV meant an early bedtime. Remember, this was 10 years before the proliferation of sports on ESPN and 20 years before news was digitalized and uploaded onto computer screens in every room of the house. Since there was no game on UHF, I had to spin the dial on my crappy AM transistor radio to find any type of baseball talk. My prospects seemed slim since this was a time when Casey Kasem ruled the airwaves, not Mike and the Mad Dog. But there it was on WCAO in Baltimore:

"Reports out of Canton, Ohio are that Thurman Munson, the All-Star catcher and captain of the New York Yankees, died tonight in a plane crash. Munson was attempting to land his single-engine plane when he lost control of the craft at a small airport in his hometown. The Yankees and the O's are scheduled to play tomorrow night at Yankee Stadium. So far, there is no indication that the game will be postponed."

Tears. Waterworks, actually. Big, bearded and burly Thurman was dead. How could that be? He was supposed to play against the Orioles tomorrow night. Sure, was clearly beginning the downside of his career and had seemingly given up his catcher's spot to Jerry Narron so that Billy Martin could keep his bat in the lineup by using him at first and right field, but he was Thurman Munson. Never mind that he looked like Ron Jeremy after an intense work over at the spa, he was the catcher for the Yankees. They had just won the past two World Series. He was the captain. He couldn't be dead. Reggie Jackson, the anti-Thurman, was the one bad things were supposed to happen to. Reggie was the villain, not scrappy Thurman, with his cap flipped upwards beneath his catcher's mask and dirt all over his pinstripes.

Anyway, I remember my dad – always awkward when dealing with any displays of emotion – trying to console me as I cried for the dead ballplayer in my tiny room of our three-bedroom apartment. I never knew of anyone who had ever died before, even though I heard a story about the Angels' Lyman Bostock getting shot. My dog and John Lennon, both killed on the same day, had more than a year left to live, and my grandfather, who taught me everything worth knowing, hadn’t yet been diagnosed with cancer. It was still a full seven years before I learned what real loss felt like. Hey, I wasn't even a Yankees fan, but Thurman was a player. Actually, he was a decent player and that meant he was as good as a member of the family. Why shouldn't I cry for him?

"Thurman's probably playing in heaven with all the great players," dad said. "I bet they have a game going right now."

Hey, give him credit. He never knew what to say to me.

The next day was a blur, but I clearly remember Scott McGregor spinning a six-hit shutout to be the shocked Yanks. The most memorable part, excluding John Lowenstein's homer to left off Luis Tiant in the 1-0 victory for the Orioles, was the stark and austere memorial before the game. Bob Sheppard, in his distinctive monotone, spoke about the dead captain while the camera above home plate focused on tight shot of the deserted catcher's box.

Thurman used to squat there.

Then I think I remember a TV announcer – it may have been Chuck Thompson or Brooks Robinson – mention that Munson had been riding a rough 2-for-24 before his death. Recently, in a case of morbid curiosity, I looked it up, and learned that Thurman really struggled during his last month. Through July, he hit just 23-for-91 with one stinking homer and a handful of RBIs, though Martin never moved him from the top of the order. Though he was coming back from an injury and wasn’t catching like he used to, Thurman still hit second and third in the order.

I think about that day a lot. Last spring I was chatting with Jason Giambi in the visitor's clubhouse at Jack Russell Stadium in Clearwater, Fla. not with the thought that Reggie, Mickey, Whitey and all of the other Yankees had used that room, but rather that Thurman Munson probably hung his clothes up in one of those stalls.

Later that June, after spending the day chatting with Scott Rolen before his Cardinals got their heads kicked in by the Yankees in the Bronx, I decided to take a tour of the deserted Stadium. With no one else to see or chase me out of what Yankees fans so arrogantly call The Stadium and into twilight of the South Bronx, I toured the old yard. I stood on the mound, walked out to center field where Joe D. and Mickey patrolled, and walked along the warning track into Death Valley. Next, I went into the double-decked bullpens, pocketed a ball that was left behind and strolled over to the adjacent Monument Park.

All of the greats are memorialized there. I rubbed the Babe Ruth plaque like Roger Clemens did prior to getting his 300th win the night before. I read about Lou Gehrig and Miller Huggins and took in the neatly manicured landscape. But there, on the back wall next to Joe McCarthy, was a plaque for "The Captain." I walked over for a closer look and before I could focus on the words, my thoughts took me back to 1979 and that night without baseball in early August.

There is crying in baseball

They say there is no crying in baseball.

Surely whoever made up that inanity never spent a day in baseball. In the 30-plus years in which baseball has been a part of my consciousness and, truth be told, one of the major focuses of my life, the game has been nothing but crying.

There have been tears of joy, like the time when the Phillies won the World Series, or the celebration of the rare chance that someone will get the game-winning hit.

Then there are tears of defeat, like the 122 other seasons when the Phillies did not win the World Series or the hard-luck losses on center stage for the entire world to see. Mitch Williams, for example, and poor Bill Buckner. Donnie Moore.

Tears of pain, of course. Like the time I bravely stood too close when the big kids were hitting and took a line drive off my shin. Too this day I’ve never felt anything that hurt so bad or saw a bruise turn as purple as Welch’s jelly.

Yes, tears of sadness. Sadness for Donnie Moore. Thurman Munson, of course. Roberto Clemente. Lyman Bostock Tim Crews.

And now this.

There’s no crying in baseball?

That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.

Cory Lidle was killed on Wednesday afternoon when the plane he was flying crashed into a 50-story high rise on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. Cory was a budding pilot, stellar golfer, smart poker player and a hard-working Major League pitcher. All of those pursuits, which Cory excelled at beyond the simple dabbling of a regular old hobbyist, took guile, wit and grit.

Certainly those traits were on display to Phillies fans who watched Cory pitch for parts of the past three seasons. They saw it on the mound, where the average-looking right-hander with an unexceptional repertoire of pitches somehow figured out a way to win 26 games for the Phillies.

Or they saw it in the papers where Cory’s penchant for expressing himself sometimes set off controversy or criticism, but were never ever boring. In an age of heightened PR sense and political correctness, Cory was nothing as simple as outspoken, but instead was bold. Unpopular decisions or controversial talk were always met with a shrug and a mischievous grin as if to indicate that he planned on getting everyone so riled up all along.

Sure, some teammates didn’t like it – such as Arthur Rhodes or Billy Wagner – but it’s hard to deny how lively Cory was.

That’s what I’ll remember the most about Cory. He was alive. He was engaging. He was aware. He knew what other people did, what they thought, what they wrote and what they were interested in. That’s not just rare behavior for a Major League Baseball player, but also for most people you come across on a daily basis. How many people do you come across who not only show an interest in you, but also give their time?

Isn’t time the most valuable thing we own?

But there Cory was after every game – wearing that ball cap pulled down over his eyes with a t-shirt tucked into jeans and clutching a plastic bag – waiting for the press. He answered every question, asked a few of his own before carrying on a few private, revealing conversations.

Last April he told me he thought he would be traded around the deadline if the Phillies weren’t in the playoff hunt. He didn’t have any insider information; it was just a hunch that proved to be correct. He also appreciated people who liked to tell jokes or stories, which made him a favorite sounding board for the writing corps.

More important than all of that, Cory was a father to a six-year-old boy named Christopher, who liked to run around the clubhouse. In just a short time it was easy to see where little Christopher got that mischievous grin and nature that often caused his dad to tell him to go sit in front of the locker and wait patiently. It was clear as the face on a clock.

He was also a husband to Melanie and a provider and friend for his family. Sometimes Cory’s twin brother Kevin came around when his Independent League team was playing in Camden. He was also especially close with his sister and parents.

So when I hear that saying where there is no crying in baseball, all I can do is shake my head in disbelief. There is crying in baseball.

There is crying in baseball when you think of that six-year-old boy who is never going to be able to play catch with his dad again.

Riding the pines

Days have passed and the next series has already put a game in the books, and all of baseball is still talking about the New York Yankees. From the manager, to the owner, the GM and the team’s best player, there certainly is not a dearth of things to talk about with the always-soap operatic ball club in the South Bronx.

Listening to the consensus, it sounds as if most commentators, columnists, etc. believe it would be a bad move for George Steinbrenner to fire Joe Torre as the manager. After all, Torre’s record speaks for itself. Under Torre, the Yankees have gone to the playoffs in 11 straight seasons, which is unprecedented in the hallowed franchise’s history.

That doesn’t mean there aren’t cracks in the armor. After all, with the stars assembled on the current Yankee clubs, and the payroll that equals the GNP of a small country, simply getting to the playoffs doesn’t seem like a difficult task. The tough part, it seems, is getting those superstars to put the egos aside and come together to win.

Kind of how the Tigers did this season.

That seems to be where Torre has had some difficulty over the past few seasons. With Paul O’Neil and Tino Martinez during the beginning of the “dynasty,” Torre never had to worry about the so-called veteran leadership. His players were in charge and that was a good thing.

But, as some Yankees observers have opined, things have not been the same since those players moved on. Coincidentally, though, those departures coincide with Alex Rodriguez’s arrival in the Bronx.

Now whether or not Rodriguez is a divisive force on a team is tough to judge. Certainly, his statistics appear to be of the caliber that should help a team win games. How can they not be? But then again, there have been MVP and Cy Young Award winners on last-place teams. In that same vain, Rodriguez’s former teams always seem to improve after he leaves. That happened in Seattle and Texas.

Will it happen in New York?

General manager Brian Cashman says the Yankees aren’t going to trade Rodriguez. But maybe those words are just a smokescreen? Do they even really need A-Rod? Sure, he’s arguably one of the best players in the game, but when he’s hitting eighth in the lineup in an elimination game, isn’t that the same as saying, “Hey A-Rod, we really don’t want you to get too many at-bats today… ”

If he’s batting eighth, why not just put him on the bench?

Tough to shoulder
Speaking of sitting on the bench, Scott Rolen has deemed himself ready to play in Game 1 of the NLCS tonight after sitting out of the Cardinals’ clincher in Game 4 over the Padres last Sunday.

It appears as if Rolen withheld the severity of his aching shoulder that was surgically repaired last season. Conventional wisdom indicates that it should take at least a year following the surgery for Rolen to be at full strength, though that didn’t appear to be the case based on his 2006 statistics.

At least that didn’t seem to be the case based on Rolen’s season leading up to September. That where the long season took its toll on his injury and also where Rolen, apparently, hid the severity of its weakness from manager Tony La Russa. Rolen, it seemed, felt the Cardinals needed him too much during the stretch run even though the team has Scott Spiezio as a fully capable backup.

According to wire accounts, La Russa was a little peeved when Rolen finally let on how much he was hurt:

La Russa seemed perturbed before Game 4 of the division series that Rolen had not mentioned the shoulder problem until Sunday. At the same time, he said Rolen’s willingness to play hurt was admirable.

“That’s why he didn’t come out and say how sore he was, because you know he wants to play,” La Russa said. “Here’s a guy that’s not fighting for a job, he’s got security, and he just wants to be a part of it.

“I was never and am not now upset with Scott.”

If there is one thing we learned about Rolen when he was in Philadelphia it is that he the proverbial gamer. If it takes running through a brick wall in order to win a game, he'll do it. But we also learned that Rolen is also stubborn and sensitive and always trying to prove himself.

I guess that is what makes him a great athlete.

Either way, Rolen took a shot of cortisone to be ready for Game 1, which makes him the second former Phillie currently in the playoffs to take a shot within the past month (Placido Polanco, the man traded for Rolen in 2002, is the other).

Nevertheless, it’s worth noting that since slugging the game-winning home run off Roger Clemens in Game 7 of the 2004 NLCS, Rolen is 1-for-26 with three strikeouts in his last two playoff series.

Not good enough?

New York sure is different than Philadelphia.

Yes, that really is an ambiguous statement, but when comparing the New York Yankees and the Philadelphia Phillies, grand, open-ended ambiguity is the safest bet.

For the Phillies, the “Golden Age” of the franchise started in the mid-1970s and lasted until the early 1980s. For about a decade, the Phillies were about as good as a team could be in the Major Leagues. They were so good, in fact, that in 1979 Danny Ozark was fired as the manager of the team because he didn’t win the World Series after winning 101 games in 1976 and 1977 and a 90-win NL East title in 1978.

It wasn’t enough to get it done.

In 1983, general manager Paul Owens bounced Pat Corrales from the managerial seat even though he had the Phillies in first place with 76 games remaining in the season. Owens came down from the front office and kept the Phillies right where Corrales left them before the collapse in the World Series against the Orioles.

Those were the days when it was either the World Series or failure for the Phillies, and it’s safe to say that a similar mentality never really occurred in the team’s 123-season history.

It would be interesting to see what fate would beset Charlie Manuel if he stumbled the way Ozark and the Phillies did in 1979. Or what would happen to Manuel if he were the skipper in 1983 when Corrales’ first-place Phillies were doing something wrong 86 games in to the season.

How can a team fire the manager when his team is in first place?

Make no mistake; there are a lot of people who don’t want Manuel to return to the bench for 2007 after two seasons in which he won more games than all but one manager in team history through this point in his tenure. With the Phillies, 173 victories in two seasons in which the team was eliminated from wild-card playoff contention at game Nos. 162 and 161 is borderline historic. Actually, it’s more than remarkable – it’s unprecedented.

This is a franchise, after all, where only two (two!) managers have taken the team to more than one postseason. It’s a franchise that has been to the playoffs just nine times in 123 seasons. For comparisons sake, look at the Atlanta Braves who… wait, nevermind. It just isn’t fair to compare the Phillies to any other franchise.

Anyway, one of those dynamic duo of managers was Ozark, who won the NL East three years in a row but was axed when he couldn’t do it for a fourth, and the other was Ozark’s replacement, Dallas Green, who delivered the franchise’s only title in 1980 only to lose to Montreal in the 1981 NLDS.

That loss was enough to send Green on his way to Chicago where he thought he could break the Cubs’ losing curse. But Green quickly learned that even he isn’t that good. Sure, historically things are really bad for the Phillies, but even they don’t compare to the futility of the Cubs.

Maybe Joe Torre is the manager the Cubs need to help them end 98 straight seasons without a World Series? After all, it appeared as if Torre was going to be out of a job after 11 seasons as the manager of the New York Yankees.

Torre apparently was headed for the same fate as Danny Ozark in 1979 before general manager Brian Cashman and the Yankees players interceded. But unlike Ozark, Torre didn’t miss the playoffs this year. Actually, Torre made it to the playoffs in every season he was the manager for the Yankees. He averaged close to 100 victories per season, won the World Series four times, including three years in a row, figured out how to charm the fickle New York media and even more erratic, owner George Steinbrenner.

There is no way to categorize Torre’s time with the Yankees as anything other than wildly successful. In fact, there are some of those fickle and hyperbolic New York-media types who have deemed Torre’s Yankees’ career as Hall-of-Fame worthy alongside the all-time greats like Joe McCarthy, Casey Stengel and Miller Huggins. Add Torre to that tribunal and get 21 of the Yankees’ 26 World Series titles, and 30 American League pennants.

In other words, Joe Torre has done a lot better than Charlie Manuel, but only one of them was truly on the proverbial hot seat for returning to the same team in 2007.

One man’s ceiling is another man’s floor. Obviously, making it through Game 161 with a fighting chance is not a good season in the South Bronx. Steinbrenner, unlike David Montgomery and the Phillies, does not celebrate moral victories or potential. Because of that, Torre and his failure to deliver a World Series title since 2000, ends the season as a “sad disappointment,” as his boss stated. Those 1,079 victories, not including the 75 more in the playoffs, ring a bit hollow.

Torre, it seems, built expectations so high that anything less than perfection was not good enough. Is it his fault that his hitters picked a really bad time to stop being the best offense in baseball, or that the pitching staff he was handed didn’t live up to its old press clipping s anymore?

Of course not. But Torre made the mistake of having high standards.

We don’t have that problem here.

Instead, Charlie Manuel’s run in Philadelphia is still littered with hope and promise. For the Phillies, 173 victories in two seasons is nothing to sneeze at.

5 weeks to go

Best week yet. Either I'm getting stronger or my loops are getting shorter. Nonetheless, with five weeks to go I'm kind of torn -- I want the race to hurry up and get here so I can be done, yet I also want more time to train.

Anyway:

Monday - 20.4 miles in 2:21:31
Good run. I went without my orthotics because they were stolen, but I felt OK though my left calf was a little achy. If I feel like I did today on marathon day, look out.

Tuesday - 17 miles in 1:56:48
Started out nice and easy at a solid pace and then ran three miles in 18:33 after already running 13. I feel really strong over the distance.

Wednesday - 13.1 miles in 1:31:59
Easy, easy run after two hard ones in a row and a morning on the golf course. I picked it up a tiny bit but nothing better than 6:30 pace. I also sweated a lot because of the humidity.

Thursday - 18 miles in 2:03:00
Didn't plan on running so far, but I was out there, felt good, so what the hell? I ran pretty strong over the final eight miles and took the pace between 6:15 and 6:30. Plus, the weather was nearly perfect aside from the occasional headwind. Lots and lots of fun.

Friday - 15.3 miles in 1:41:17
Felt pretty strong and kept a steady pace the entire time. Could have run harder, too. Just an enjoyable run. It's as simple as that.

Saturday - 14.5 miles in 1:45:29
Just an easy run. Nothing more to tell about this one. I just did the work and tried to stay strong because I had no speed at all.

Sunday - 7 miles in 46:32
I feel strong and smooth. I could have really run today, but I'm not going to skip an easy day.

105.3 miles for the week. 5 weeks to go with 12 straight week at 100 miles or better. That could be my record even though I averaged more than 100 miles a week during 1998.

Detroit Rock City

As you read this sentence, the party should finally be smoldering just south of its apex in Detroit. The Tigers, as it is, still have some work to do and a season to finish. Not that anyone in Philadelphia knows or cares about Detroit and the baseball renaissance that occurred there this season.

It’s a good thing Philadelphia sports fans are so provincial and laser-focused because the sight of Placido Polanco dashing around the field and slapping hands with the fans at Comerica Park with a bottle of champagne in on hand and a smile that spread from ear-to-ear would be enough to make a Philadelphia baseball fan sick.

That’s until the camera panned to Jim Leyland being carried off the field, coupled with the comments that followed from one-time Phillie Todd Jones who told reporters that Leyland was the only manager he played for during his 14-year career that actually made a difference in the standings.

At in the notion that Leyland should he have been carried off the field by Chase Utley and Ryan Howard instead of Sean Casey and Kenny Rogers and it’s enough sickness for some hospitalization.

At least until the playoffs end or the Tigers are eliminated.

For those too wrapped up in the Eagles and Cowboys, the Detroit Tigers, managed by Jim Leyland, sent the vaunted New York Yankees and their considerable offense home for the winter in four games in the ALDS. With just four more victories over the Oakland A’s, the Tigers could go to the World Series.

Not bad for a team that lost 119 games three years ago, averaged more than 96 losses per season for the past decade, and had just two winning seasons since 1988.

How does that team come four victories away from the World Series?

Do I have to say it?

Apparently, Jim Leyland wasn’t good enough to manage the Phillies even though he took the Tigers to 95 wins this season. Apparently the ideas he expressed to president David Montgomery and then GM Ed Wade were just a little too harebrained. Especially the ones about the corner outfielders – remember that? I do. He said the Phillies had too many strikeouts in the corner outfield positions, needed a new center fielder, third baseman and catcher.

Then he went out to the CVS on Broad St. for a pack of smokes only to come back to resume his meeting when Wade told him it would be a good idea to keep his interview date scheduled with the Mets.

Look what happened. The Phillies hired Charlie Manuel, came within a game of the wild card, fired Wade, and hired Pat Gillick. A few months later, Gillick traded right fielder Bobby Abreu, third baseman David Bell, and tried as hard as he could to get left fielder Pat Burrell to waive his no-trade clause. After the World Series, Gillick will allow catcher Mike Lieberthal to limp away as a free agent.

Talk about unoriginal ideas. I wonder if Gillick walked over to the CVS on Broad St. for a pack of smokes.

I may write about baseball and sports for many, many years. Or, Powerball numbers willing, tomorrow could be my last day. Either way, I will never ever forget how hard Leyland campaigned to be the Phillies manager during the winter of 2004. He was as shrewd as any seasoned politician and went above and beyond to the point of kissing babies and returning phone calls. In fact, Leyland wanted the Phillies job so badly that he even returned my phone calls.

Talk about desperate.

Now let’s stop for a minute before this descends into a Leyland-equals-good and Phillies-equals-bad essay. That’s just way too easy and not completely accurate. Surely, Leyland was not the only reason why the Tigers went from 300 losses in three seasons under Alan Trammell to 95-67 and the doorstep of the World Series this year. Actually, there are many reasons why the Tigers were able to turn it around so quickly.

The biggest one? Someone listened to Jim Leyland.

Apparently, Leyland went into his interview with the Tigers and told them what he would do to the team to make it better in very much the same manner he did with Montgomery and Wade. But guess what? The Tigers bought it and look where it got them.

Yes, I will always remember that day sitting in the conference room in Citizens Bank park listening to Leyland talk about what makes a winning baseball team as Wade stood in the doorway privately seething. Leyland, with his resume padded with a World Series title with the Marlins and all of those division titles with the Pirates, acted like a know-it-all questioning him to the very group of people who questioned him for sport in the papers and talk shows, daily. They had turned the fans against the straight-laced GM and here was a potential employee giving them more fodder?

Who did he think he was?

Leyland had a lot of ideas to make the Phillies better on that chilly November afternoon and he didn’t keep too many of them secret. He explained what he thought his job as the manager should be:

“When you have veteran players who buy into your thought process, it eliminates a lot of nitpicking,” he said. “The veterans set the tone. Leadership is production. Putting winning numbers on the board, that's leadership. The manager is supposed to be the leader. That's not ego talking, that's just the way it is. I've said it all my life, you're either the victim or the beneficiary of your players' performance. That's as simple as this job is.”

And what elements make up a good team:

“[It's about] trying to create an atmosphere that's comfortable,” he said. “I'm not as big on chemistry as a lot of other managers. If it works, it's wonderful. I've managed teams that ate together, played together, prayed together, and we got the [crap] kicked out of us, and I managed some that punched each other once in a while and we won. It's getting the best out of talent. They're not all going to like me. Hopefully, they will, but I doubt it. There's nothing wrong with that, as long as you're working toward the same goal -- win.”

Perhaps Gillick had similar thoughts going through his head after he traded away Abreu and Bell and when he was ironing out that deal to send Burrell to Baltimore?

Maybe.

More interesting to ponder is if things would have ended differently the past two seasons if Leyland were the manager instead of Manuel? Well, it’s not as easy as simply replacing one guy for another, despite what Todd Jones says. There’s no telling how all of the personalities would have blended if anyone but Manuel were skippering the Phillies. Besides, if Leyland were in Philadelphia it would be unlikely that Pat Gillick would be the GM, too.

Maybe Wade sealed his own fate by not hiring Leyland when he campaigned so hard for the job. But then again we should have all seen the handwriting on the wall when Wade stood at the podium after Leyland’s cleansing tell-all and said:

“Even if you’re polling the 3.2 million people who came to watch us this year, I don’t think you can get hung up on this people’s commanding lead in the votes 320 to 112 or anything like that. We’re going to hire a manager we hope our fans like, but at the same time we’re going to try to hire a manager that is going to get us to the World Series.”

Hindsight being what it is… well, you can fill in the rest.

But make no mistake about one thing – Philadelphia is barely a blip on Leyland’s rear-view mirror now. Actually, it’s hard to look back at anything when champagne is stinging the eyes.

Wait until Sunday...

Meanwhile, some segments of the national media believe that Philadelphia fans are about to spontaneously combust this Sunday. Here's a pretty apt piece of literature from the folks at Deadspin regarding this idea.

For the record, I'm weary of all the people described in the story, especially the Zordich-i.

Seriously, do people still really care that much about Terrell Owens? Based on the emails I get, people chastise me (us) for not ignoring Owens. He's gone, they write. He's in Dallas. Stop writing about him. It's not news.

Yes, people write in to say don't write about Terrell Owens, and no, they don't see the irony in that.

I do, and I think I can get at least 800 words out of it. Stay tuned early next week.

When you are right...

Mark Cuban is, far and away, the most interesting and compelling sports owner. Sure, the are pre-conceived ideas about the Dallas Mavericks' owner from what is distilled in short, out-of-context TV bytes, but forget that silliness. What makes Cuban even more compelling is that he is not only accessible to the media and his players, but also the fans, too. He isn't afraid of his customers or clients -- it seems as if he seeks out their input, comments and criticisms.

There are not many people of Cuban's ilk who do anything remotely close to that.

If one were to drop Cuban an email with a pertinent and well-thought out question, idea, etc. chances are he will respond.

Perhaps he has the luxury of being born at the right time or making his money early in his life so he isn't as out of touch with the changing world and new technology as most sports team owners, but what makes Cuban especially intriguing is that he doesn't dismiss the old media or write-off the changing dichotmy of how news is presented and reported.

The bottom line is Cuban gets it.

No better example of this is an entry in Cuban's blog from today. Better yet, name another owner who even has a blog, let alone one who updates it constantly.

Best bets

Last week: 0-3
Year-to-date: 1-4

Man, I’m really bad at this game-picking stuff. Maybe instead of selecting the point-spread winners I should see how poorly I can do for an entire season. Oh-for-three? And I’m selecting the games to pick?

Geez!

Then again, who would have thought that Temple would score? Not me. Obviously, I thought Vanderbilt giving the Owls 34 points was a lock. But then to follow that with telling the good folks out there to avoid the Penn State-Northwestern game because the line was too big and I knew a few people who went to school in Evanston even though my wife, sister-in-law are Penn Staters and my father-in-law is a former PSU prof? I’m surrounded by a sea of Penn State-ness yet I can’t take them over Northwestern?

What a jerk.

Oh it gets worse. Mark Brunell stinks? Obviously I stink at picking games. The Dolphins over the Texans? Well… that’s an honest mistake. Who knew the Dolphins were so awful?

Nevertheless, I’m coming back with some more to take to the bank. Here’s what we’re going with this week:

Eagles minus 2 over Cowboys
Generally, I try to avoid the home team, but I like how this is shaping up. The Eagles appear to be focused, ready and can’t suffer another loss to an NFC East team. Then again, Dallas has a history of thriving in seemingly distracting situations and that team is all distraction. There are so many distractions in Dallas that Terry Glenn just kind of blends in.

Still, I’m taking the Eagles and giving up the two points.

Giants minus 4 over Redskins
I have a friend who knows a lot about football. Actually, he might know more about football than anyone I know outside of the business. He has good contacts with the NFLPA, a few former players and front office personnel and never hesitates to call them up to chat about the goings on around the NFL. What makes his information better is that because he isn’t a writer or reporter, his contacts are willing to reveal more. In turn, he sometimes fills me in on what he knows.

With that in mind, my friend says the Giants stink. He doesn’t like their defense and thinks Eli Manning still has a lot to learn. I wonder if that’s his opinion or if he heard that from someone?

I also have another friend (two!) who writes about the Redskins for the biggest newspaper in Washington, D.C. and one of the largest in the country. That newspaper is better at covering politics and the industry town that is Washington, D.C., but they go crazy covering the Redskins because aside from politics, the ‘Skins rule D.C.

That information has nothing to do with anything and neither does my relationship with the football writer because he doesn’t tell me anything about the Redskins, the NFL or anything. However, it seems as if he agrees with me when I email him about how bad Mark Brunell is because he won’t throw the ball to Chris Cooley.

What’s that all about? Take the Giants.

Minnesota minus 3 over Penn State
It’s local week here on the friendly little blog that could. Actually, this line just leapt off the page at me, mostly because I recognize the schools and it appears to be a tightly-contested game.

Looking at the almighty trends, Penn State is 8-1 against the spread in the last nine Big 10 games. Conversely, Minnesota beat Temple, 62-0. That makes it a wash.

The next variable is the players and I can name one – that Morrelli dude. Since everyone is writing that he needs some “seasoning,” he’s a non-factor. That means we go to great writers from each school.

Minnesota has Todd Zolecki, but Penn State has my wife. Call it a tie, though Todd has been writing more lately.

Minnesota has Bob Dylan.

Penn State can’t beat that.

Gophers!

Truth and the rumors

Mostly because there is nothing else to talk about, there has been a lot of chatter regarding Charlie Manuel's job security and the ouster of three of his coaches. One bit of misinformation out there was that there was a chance Manuel would not return for 2007. That was never the case according to Marcus Hayes' story in the Daily News today.

According to Marcus, Gillick said: "The fact is, no matter where we were, four or five games over or eight or nine games under, the players liked playing for Charlie. They play hard for Charlie. That's a factor in this day and age. There were times we played some sloppy baseball. There were times we played fundamentally unsound baseball."

The Phillies like playing for Manuel the same way they despised Larry Bowa when he managed the club. Typically, a player is going to be a lot more excited about his job and doing it well if his boss is someone he likes and respects. In that regard, it's pretty difficult not to like Charlie Manuel.

But someone had to be the scapegoat for the Phillies failure to make the playoffs for the 13th straight October. Those goats were Gary Varsho, Marc Bombard and Bill Dancy. All three are fine men, but sadly had to be sacrificed.

Dancy's ouster is not too surprising considering how many runners were routinely thrown out at the plate during the past two seasons. Neither is Varsho's departure considering that he was largely responsible for helping Manuel strategize ballgames. When Varsho was working with Bowa, he mostly just had to position the outfield, write out the lineup card and his other administrative duties while Bowa called all the shots. But with Manuel, that lack of a heavy hand ultimately worked against him. In fact, one National League manager jokingly to me to "tell Varsho to keep giving Charlie that good advice."

Bombard's non-renewal is tough to figure out. Who knows if it anything to do with Chase Utley's home run in Washington that was ruled foul during the last week of the season. Discussing that call was the angriest I've ever seen Manuel after a game and Bombard should have had a pretty good view of the ball clanging off the pole from the first-base coaching box.

Maybe that one play tipped things over the edge for Bombard.

As far as speculating about new coaches, it seems as if it is either a foregone conclussion, a poorly-kept secret or both. Juan Samuel, a former Phillie with big-league coaching experience, appears to have a job on Manuel's staff if he wants one. In fact, Samuel was rumored to be a potential base coach for the Phillies for 2007 as early as August.

Hiring Sammy would be a masterstroke. Every day would be SammyFest.

John Russell, the manager at Triple-A Scranton/Wilkes-Barre also seems to be a shoo-in as well as a speculated manager-in-waiting. Hiring Russell makes sense.

As far as the other position goes, I'm curious if John Vukovich is interested in returning to uniform after two seasons in the front office. My guess is he's happy right where he is, but the allure of putting on that uniform everyday still has a strong draw for a lot of people.

Dick Pole's name has also been bandied about, but only because he's good friends with Manuel and his old boss, Dusty Baker, just lost his job in Chicago. I guess that's as good a reason as any to make Pole a candidate.

Either way, Gillick will get the coaching staff in place before he begins working on a plan to strengthen the 2007 Phillies.

Nothing to do (and all day to do it)

The 12:02 pulled out of the station just as my traveling companion and I stepped on to the platform. I wouldn’t have noticed the train heading toward a horizon where the sky seemed to be resting right on top of miles and miles of a treeless green valley until my partner – from the vantage point of my shoulders – pointed and shouted.

“Look! Tommy! Choo-choo!”

Every train to a two-year-old boy is named Tommy or Thomas, but unlike the diesel and electric fueled Amtrak that rockets from city to city, these Tommy trains sound a hard-to-ignore “choo-choo!” To anyone who has ever seen a modern, 21st Century train it is hard to think if they make any noise at all. The only noise is a whoosh of speed as it quickly turns to a blur.

But here in Strasburg, Pa., just 45 miles from Center City, anachronisms reign. Not only do the trains go “choo-choo!” but also they run on coal-powered steam engines along a countryside devoid of strip malls and tacky suburban sprawl. They don’t need a Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s here because it’s just as easy to go out in the backyard and dig up all of the organic produce desired.

Nevertheless, we would have to come up with Plan B because we missed that 12:02. Then again, Plan B was the easy part. On the way to the railroad station we had stopped at an Amish roadside stand where we bought a few apples, a bag of pretzels and a couple of drinks. Instead of the ride we parked it on a circular bench under a shady birch tree where we watched the train disappear beneath the inky plume of black smoke on a day so sunny and warm it was almost cartoonish. There, we shared the fruit and the pretzels while he sipped from a small plastic container of juice.

Plan B was perfect. We had nothing to do and all day to do it. There was no ballgame to rush off to watch and write about because the Phillies didn’t make the playoffs again. The Eagles had played the night before, but my companion was in bed long before kickoff. Besides, “Blues Clues” holds much more appeal to him than Andy Reid’s game plan. So instead of talking about sports or work we were going to sit there on that bench, eat those pretzels and feel the sun on a rare quiet day.

There would be time for games later. There always is. That’s the great thing about sports – a game is always there if you need one. Flip through the dial on the TV, or better yet, head out to the field nearby and there is sure to be a game going on. Sometimes the games that are played on those tiny fields in the middle of nowhere are the best ones. After all, it’s not the result that is remembered in the end – it’s the company you kept. No one says, “Remember the score of that game we went to five years ago?” Instead it’s, “Remember when we went to that game five years ago and how much fun we had.”

You know, just being there with your people. That’s what the games are about, right?

My companion pointed out the water tower blooming over a row of old dining cars and cabooses as he scraped the salt off his pretzel. He also pointed out the engineers in their overalls and funny, short-brimmed caps preparing for the next engine to barrel down those tracks. Mostly, though, we just enjoyed the quiet and the company.

It’s hard to imagine anything other than tranquility from our perch on that bench. Miles removed from the tourist traps where folks from New York and Philadelphia came to see the Amish (“are the Amish open on Sunday?”) and the farms while shopping for brand-name fashions in the outlet malls, the fields surrounding the train tracks barely quaked in the gentle breeze that seemed to spread the sunshine as if it were spores from a dandelion.

Yet even then there is quiet tenacity in that energy. To us it’s nothing more than a Rockwellian backdrop to a perfect scene.

Kind of like we are on that bench.

So it’s hard to imagine that just hours before chaos was in command. How could the roads that can barely handle the traffic at roadside stand or a country fair provide access for the fleet of ambulances and emergency vehicles? Forget about the teeming TV satellite trucks rushing to yet another tragedy like flies to manure or the helicopters circling overhead, how are these vehicles going to get where they desperately need to go?

It was a brisk, 20-minute jog from where we were sitting to where the ambulances, helicopters and satellite trucks had rushed. Three miles, tops, which, out here is like a couple of city blocks. Out here miles melt into the horizon like the clouds of smoke into the cloudless sky from that old train.

Sometimes it’s weird how lives intersect – a chance encounter here or there brought about by the ambiguity of geography. Weirder yet is how dreams and hopes haunt each of us. For some of us, all we want is a day in the sun, free from work and responsibility or a respite from the cares that can weigh us down. I’m lucky that I get to live a dream. All my hopes and desires are right here in the country alongside a railroad track. We have pretzels, some apples, a cool drink, great company and nothing else to do.

This could be the greatest day ever.

But for Charles Roberts – who lived just down the road from where we sat – dreams are nightmares. Worse, those little Amish girls who did nothing other than show up at the one-room schoolhouse on the wrong day, dreams go unrealized and unformed.

All we can say is that it isn’t fair.

It’s a shame that Charles Roberts could not find joy in playing soccer with his kids, or inviting his people over to watch a game on television. Why couldn’t he find joy simplicity and the nuance that makes the world spin a create smiles so big that they turn to tears of pure happiness?

Why couldn’t Charles Roberts take a trip up Route 896 to the Strasburg Railroad and sit with his boy at the side of the tracks?

Why?

Almost too fast, the food has been eaten and the drinks sipped dry. We’re starting to get restless from staring out into the miles and miles of fields that just won’t end until they reach the clear, blue sky. The platform is starting to fill up with tourists ready to board the 1 p.m. for a trip through the countryside to Paradise and back.

“Hey Michael,” I said. “Let’s get a couple of tickets and go for a ride.”

This and that

Ever since the baseball season ended, I've been asked by more than a few people what I have planned -- as if I only have to work when the baseball season is in bloom.

I wish.

Seriously, I plan on staying busy with our web site at CSN -- a.k.a. the Little Engine that Could. I also plan on branching out by writing about anything and everything that catches my fancy. Hey, I'm no one-trick pony.

Hopefully, I can complete a few creative projects I've been working on as well as some longer fiction. As far as writing goes, developing those creative ideas and working out new and interesting ideas and concepts is my short and long-term goal.

As far as sports goes, keep checking back here to be updated on my observation and musing on baseball and everything else. I don't plan on closing up shop just because the seasons change. Not at all. The NFL is heating up and another NHL season is underway. Plus, the NBA and Big 5 are just around the corner. Most interestingly -- to me, anyway -- is the Fall marathon season, which will feature a big -time race in new York and Chicago. In fact, the NYC marathon could have its deepest field ever.

Along those lines, the big Harrisburg Marathon is set for Nov. 12. Let's hope for nice temperatures, no rain and a tailwind.

Elsewhere, the Phillies Scribes Football League is heading for the midway point of the season with the Lancaster entry leading in the points category... if only we can string a few more victories in there, too.

Besides, baseball season never really ends anymore. It just enters different phases.

So, yeah, it will be busy around here. A little less rushed, but busy nonetheless.

Etc.
Kenny Moore's biography on legendary Oregon track coach and Nike co-founder, Bill Bowerman, is excellent. So much so that the book is difficult to put down and I haven't even gotten to the deep Nike or Prefontaine parts yet.

I also picked up Bob Woodward's latest on the strength of the reviews and the fact that I really enjoyed his Nixon and Watergate epics. Yes, there was a time when I thought I was going to be a presidential historian.

Someday.

On another note, Jonathan Safran Foer's first two novels still haunt me. Wow, he can write.

Is that really Keith Jones as the analyst for Flyers telecasts? You mean he's watching the entire game? We'll dig deeper into that one soon.

Check this out -- a story about how bad the Philadelphia fans are in The New York Times and not a single mention of Santa Claus.

Looking to the winter

For anyone who has followed the news lately, there doesn't need to be an explaination about what has been happening here in Lancaster County. Though I live a short 25 to 30 minute drive from the so-called Amish Country, my part of Lancaster may as well be on the other side of the earth from there.

But when something happens out there it resonnates throughout our city. More than that, an attack to the Amish way is an assault on all of us.

On to the baseball...

Needless to say the Phillies season ended rather anti-climatically after a month in which it seemed as if the wild-card race was a bottle of soda being shook up in an industrial paint mixer. But before the top could be popped, the Phillies fizzled.

Surprised?

I get the sense that the Phillies will head into this winter more optimistic than they had been during the past failed seasons. Maybe that has something to do with how well the team played after the trade deadline, or that proven GM Pat Gillick is in charge... who knows? Just be sure that the Phillies really think the future is very bright and expect them to market the '07 season accordingly.

Nevertheless, there are a few pressing issues Gillick and the brass have to iron out. The situation with Pat Burrell and the outfield is high on that list, along with shoring up the five spots on the pitching rotation and adding strength to the bullpen.

In regard to the pitching, don't expect both Jamie Moyer or Randy Wolf to return. Wolf is a free agent who would like to return to the Phillies, while Moyer is a 20-year vet who would prefer to pitch for a team that trains in Arizona and plays near his home in Seattle. Interestingly, though, Moyer has an option for '07 that he will likely exercise. Where that leaves him and the Phillies is any one's guess.

Could Moyer be traded for a reliever? Doubtful, but you never know.

Meanwhile, if Jon Lieber and Brett Myers are going to remain at the top of the Phillies' rotation, both pitchers must do something about their fitness... or else. Not only did both pitchers' girth effect their performances -- especially in regard to injuries and athletic nature of the game -- it was also a bit embarrassing. I know Manuel said something to Lieber about his weight in the past, but it has now reached the point where it can't be a dirty, little joke. Lieber and Myers have to get into athletic shape and the Phillies have to make them.

As for the bullpen, I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so about Arthur Rhodes. Go ahead, click here and read the story I wrote when they traded for him. I'm not often correct, but whn I am I like to gloat.

Still, though he pitched well until he was worn down to a little nub, Geoff Geary is not the answer at the back end of the Phillies' bullpen. Maybe the answer is Ryan Madson, who went through something of a lost year this season as he bounced back and forth between the rotation and 'pen. Expect Madson to be back where he belongs for the entire season in 2007.

But the Phillies will still need some horses back there. Gillick definitely knows that championship teams are often built from the back to the front, and, like last year, expect the GM to attempt to strengthen the pitching staff.

Live, from New York...
I must admit that my favorite part about watching the baseball playoffs is watching the former Phillies in action. That's always been the case -- I even have a vague recollection of Jay Johnstone playing first base for the Yankees in the clinching game of the 1978 World Series. It was a day game and we lived in D.C. and Johnstone played for the Phillies earlier that year.

That's about all I remember from that World Series.

However, I remember sitting in a conference room in Citizens Bank Park listening to Ed Wade refuse to talk about Scott Rolen, Curt Schilling and Terry Francona making the run to the World Series in 2004. I think Ed thought we were picking on him.

Anyway, I especially enjoyed Bobby Abreu deliver a clutch, two-run double to open up the scoring for the Yankees in the blowout victory in last night's opener. And there, at third base was Larry Bowa waving those runners in.

Man does Bobby Abreu fit in well with that team.