Margo Channing had her Eve Harrington. McMurphy had his Nurse Ratched. John McClane had his Hans Gruber.

Every protagonist needs a good villain… and we, the baseball geeks,  just lost an excellent foil in the form of one Joe “Fire Joe Morgan” Morgan.

I’m sure there are people out there — indeed, lots of people — who enjoyed Joe Morgan’s work as an announcer on ESPN’s Sunday Night Baseball. But I don’t know many of them; I don’t think we read the same blogs. For years and years, even before I discovered Bill James and Baseball Prospectus and, of course, the great Fire Joe Morgan, I rolled my eyes at Morgan on Sunday nights. He was a great, great player and is by all accounts a smart man (also a Hall of Famer and the winner of every conceivable baseball award, as you may have heard him mention weekly for the last two decades), but he has the intellectual curiosity of a halibut. He had a pomposity and a petrified worldview that was impervious to questioning or new ideas. Among the writers I read often, Craig Calcaterra was the only one to offer a semi-defense, if you count “Morgan annoyed me, but never so much that I’d celebrate his departure. Mostly because, for as wrong as he could be at times, he was fairly easy to ignore” as a semi-defense. That Craig didn’t feel compelled to mute Morgan, merely tune him out, is the nicest thing I’ve read about the guy’s announcing in years.

Nietzsche wrote that “He who lives by fighting with an enemy has an interest in the preservation of that enemy’s life”. Of course, he also wrote “Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray.” So let’s not get too carried away with the Nietzsche, but I think that point’s well taken here. Everyone needs a good bad guy, and for baseball fans who were interested in sabermetrics and advanced stats and research (or at least respected those things), Morgan was perfectly cast. He was wealthy and famous and popular enough that you didn’t have to feel guilty about skewering him – not like some random beat writer, who you’d feel bad about ganging up on. And his counterarguments were not exactly reasoned and convincing, as can be seen in this immortal exchange he had with Deadspin’s Tommy Craggs more than five years ago now, recounted in a classic SF Weekly story:

[Craggs]:It seems that you almost take [the book] personally.

Joe:I took it personally because they had a personal thing about me saying Durham should’ve stolen second base in the game that they lost — he stayed at first base, and they hit three fly balls, and the A’s lose another fifth game.

[Craggs]: And that’s the chief reason you don’t even wanna read the book?

Joe:I don’t read books like that. I didn’t read Bill James’ book, and you said he was complimenting me. Why would I wanna read a book about a computer, that gives computer numbers?

[Craggs]:It’s not about a computer.

Joe: Well, I’m not reading the book, so I wouldn’t know.

I remember reading that story when it was published, and after that Joe Morgan wasn’t just another announcer I ignored or rolled my eyes at; he was the face of the enemy. Not in a personal sense; of course I have nothing against Joe Morgan, as a person, and wish him a long and happy life. But he had taken a stand against learning, or reading, or even having a conversation about new ideas, and he had done it in a particularly boneheaded way. He came to symbolize a way of thinking that drives me, and — judging by the comments here all season, every season — many of you right up the wall. But now that Morgan’s gotten the hook, who embodies what I want to argue against? Surely no one with as broad and loud a platform, so much money and influence, no one who will make it so much fun to play the righteous underdog. So yes, I think in a perverse way, I’m really going to miss Joe Morgan.

Sandy Alderson has assembled a super-Moneyball team over in Queens and is being showered with praise, and Morgan’s only real anti-SABR peer, former New York Times columnist Murray Chass, is off in a basement somewhere writing a blog that he furiously insists is not a blog. Who am I supposed to yell at on my TV screen now?

Of course, as was pointed out to me last night, we’ll always have Buck and McCarver. I have no doubt they will outlive us all.

Would you believe?

Terrific stuff from Jon Weisman:

If the celebration of Fernando Valenzuela was a highpoint in the history of the Los Angeles Dodgers and baseball, an exhilarating transcendence of a minority among a majority, then the desolation of Glenn Burke was the opposite.

It’s my general opinion that, for all the problems in our society, tolerance eventually defeats intolerance. It can take a long time – decades, centuries – but if you’re on the intolerant side, the side that would deny rights and respect to those who are different, you’re on the losing team. And sometimes I’m mystified by how many people don’t see that, how many people stay with the losers, in such a bitter place.

The reason is ignorance, which fuels fear. Solve the ignorance, and you’ll go a long way toward solving intolerance.

Those might seem like platitudes, but they become starkly real in “Out. The Glenn Burke Story,” which premieres Wednesday at 7:30 p.m. at San Francisco’s Castro Theater and at 8 p.m. on Comcast SportsNet Bay Area. (According to a spokesman for the channel, the documentary will be available in Southern California on DirecTV’s Sports Pack Channel 696 and Dish Network’s Multi-Sports Package Channel 419, but hopefully at some point it will come available to a wider audience in Los Angeles.) The program depicts nothing short of a tragedy of ignorance and intolerance surrounding a gay man, and though society has made progress since then, it reminds us that greater tolerance can’t come too quickly.

[Photo Credit: The Diamond Angle]

Photo from phitenusa.com's official blog.

For weeks now I’ve been griping about the silliness of those Phiten necklaces that almost all the Texas Rangers, and many of the players on every other MLB team, were wearing this fall. The necklaces are nothing new (Phiten has an “MLB Authentic Collection” endorsed by Joba Chamberlain, among others), and indeed plenty of Yankees have worn them for years now, but they’ve rarely been as noticeable as the model so many Rangers sported: thick ropes that looked like some of the hideous if well-intentioned friendship bracelets I used to make at Indian Brook Summer Camp back in the day.

I was all ready to unleash a full-on rant, because the “science” behind Phiten sounds like absolute 100% shameless steaming bullcrap; from their website:

Oh sure… “Aqua-Titanium™” technology. Please, tell me more!

Phiten Technology is based around the different applications of our high-intensity Phild Process. Titanium has been found by our scientists to be particularly responsive to the Phild Process; meaning, it is consistently effective in emitting, or “passing on” the stabilizing effect of the Phild Process.

Thanks for defining “emitting” for me, that is a tricky one. And what is the Phild Process, again?

Miniscule beads of titanium are created using the Phild Process. These perfectly spherical beads can then be mixed into a compound to be printed or layered directly onto material to target specific areas of the body with concentrated effectiveness… 

At first glance, the inner core of Phiten necklaces and bracelets may look like mere rubber. However, it actually contains Micro-Titanium Spheres and Carbonized Titanium held together in a compound by the elastomer rubber.

You get the idea. I’m no scientist… in fact, in college the only science courses I ever took were Ecology 110, Intro to Computer Programming, and, I’m ashamed to admit, “Science Fiction, Science Fact”. So maybe I don’t have any right to say it, but I feel confident saying it anyway: this is not real science. It is not how the human body works. It is fairy dust. Besides, I’ve had titanium rods in my spine since high school, and the stability of my energy flow is nothing to write home about, believe me.

I was gearing up for a good screed when much to my surprise, multiple friends on Twitter – people I actually know, and who are quite smart – mentioned they’d used Phiten products, and said that it had worked for them. Which I found… startling.

Upon further reflection, I can believe that it did, even though I’m certain that this product is utter snake oil. I don’t believe that “Aqua-Titanium” does a damn thing for the body, but I absolutely do believe in the placebo effect. Ever had someone mention lice or bedbugs and start itching? Ever taken a pill and been sure it was working, only to discover it was actually a much lower does than could’ve possibly been effective? Not to say that positive thinking can cure cancer, or anything so dramatic. But there are a million examples, and tons of studies: psychosomatic symptoms, and even pyschosomatic cures for real symptoms, are very real… even if they’re not real.

So yes, I believe that Phiten is essentially a scam. On the other hand, if a $36 necklace makes your neck hurt less, or a $25 bracelet makes your carpal tunnel more manageable — well, that’s not such a bad deal. I may resent the pseudo-science, but hey: probably those old 19th century snake-oil salesmen made a few people’s joints feel better, too. Whatever works. And to quote Bull Durham:

If you believe you’re playing well because you’re getting laid, or because you’re not getting laid, or because you wear women’s underwear, then you ARE!

That rings a lot truer to me than the Phild Process does.

Over at SI.com, Tim Marchman looks at where the Giants rank among the surprise champions of the wild card era:

The baseball commentariat didn’t like the San Francisco Giants’ odds going into this year. Nor did it like them going into the stretch run, as they were behind the similar, but seemingly more talented, San Diego Padres in the NL West. Nor did it like them much going into the Division Series, the Championship Series or the World Series. Which surely makes the wins all the sweeter, and the triumph all the more deserved.

Just how much of a surprise is the Giants’ first championship since moving to San Francisco? Putting a number on this isn’t actually as hard as one might think. There are three factors that make a team a surprise, or none at all: The actual strength of the team, its star power and its position going into the stretch run. A fundamentally mediocre team with few stars and a low payroll that enters the late season in a tight race will, if it wins the Series, stun everyone. A terrific team with lots of pricey veterans that leads the race all year will not.

Rob Neyer thinks that the Giants are worthy champions:

It’s fair to be surprised that the Giants won in five games. Historically, most World Series have lasted longer than five games. It’s fair to be slightly surprised that the Giants won the World Series at all, because most of the numbers suggested that the Rangers were the slightly better team.

Anyone who is shocked by the 2010 World Series hasn’t been paying attention, over the years. The Giants were a very good team that played better than another very good team over the course of five games. If they play another five games next week, everything might be different.

They’re not going to play another five games. This one’s over. The great majority of Giants fans have never seen their team win a World Series. No Giants fan has seen their team win a World Series since moving to California more than a half-century ago.

Now they’ve got one. And as anyone who followed the Royals in ’85 or the Twins in ’87 or the Reds in ’90 or the Cardinals in ’06 will tell you, the only thing that matters is getting one. All the rest is details.

The Giants are Whirled Champs for the first time since 1954.

Congrats on what’s been a great run.

This is a money game for Cliff Lee, in more ways than one.

I say he comes up Aces and the Serious goes back to San Fran.

Madison Bumgardner, 21-years old, branded the Texas Rangers tonight, but good, throwing eight shut-out innings.

Wait, who? That’s right, Madison Bumgarner. Believe it, folks, it was a thing of beauty.

The Giants won the game, 4-0, and now the Rangers look to Cliff Lee to save their season.

Sunday Slather, Whirled Serious Style!

I’m pulling for the Giants but I think the Rangers will win again tonight.

So I was down on Broadway looking for a parking space this morning and I couldn’t find one so I had to drive around for a minute. Dig what I found…baseball in New York! The Yankees’ season might be over, but the Whirled Serious is cookin’ down in Texas, and the Kingsbridge Little League is still in full effect.

Ya heard?

The Rangers look to avoid going down 3-0 tonight in Texas. It says here that they get it done.

Let’s Go Base-Ball.

Picking up on Emma’s challenge to make a call on Ron Washington, I called my old friend, known around these parts as Alan with the 45s. This is what he came up with:

Dude actually remembered this kitty photo from Life Magazine.

Even better, how about this.

The Belz!

And it’s up the Rangers to stop the party. Dudes smoking the reefers in the bleachers, the entire city poppin’.

Giants look to make more memories while the Texans aim to go home even.

I’m still blacked out but I’ve got it on the radio, so forget the Fat Cat Schmucks and:

Let’s Go Base-Ball.

A few innings into last night’s World Series game, the camera focused on Bruce Bochy for a few moments, and I realized he reminded me intensely of… somebody. But I couldn’t figure out who. It was a specific actor, I knew I’d seen him in a movie, it was on the tip of my brain. So I asked the Twitter Hive Mind for help.

Suggestions included, but were not limited to:

• Young Tom Selleck
• James Gammon in Major League
• Jeff Bridges
• J.K. Simmons
• Billy Bob Thornton
• Old Tom Selleck
• William H. Macy
• Tommy Chong
• Tom Selleck
• A young Wilford Brimley
• Charles Bronson
• Charles Bronson (2)
• Everett McGill
• Bruce McGill
• Edward James Olmos
• James Brolin
• Billy Bob Thornton (2)
• “half Dabney Coleman, half Burt Reynolds”
• James Gammon in Major League (2)

Some of these were more accurate than others, but neither was the particular person I was trying to place. It was Derek Jacques who finally nailed it:

Jackie Brown-era Robert Forster! Yep, that was it. I feel much better now.

Who wants to cast Ron Washington? How about Brian Wilson?

Rob Neyer makes the call–David Murphy should play right field tonight for the Rangers, not our boy Vlad:

Is Murphy a great hitter? No. He is adequate. He’s got a career .288/.354/.487 line against right-handed pitchers. Which (again) isn’t great.

It’s not nearly as good as Vladimir Guerrero’s, which shouldn’t be a surprise.

But Guerrero is old. Well, actually he’s middle-aged. It’s his knees that are old. Whichever parts of his body you prefer, he simply isn’t the hitter he once was. Guerrero’s got a .301/.349/.501 line against righties over the past three seasons. Toss in Guerrero’s 35 birthdays (compared to 29 for Murphy), and it’s very, very, very difficult to convincingly argue that Guerrero, right now, is a measurably better hitter than Murphy.

As Leonard Cohen put it so eloquently:

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded, everybody rolls with their fingers crossed                   

Everybody knows that the war is over, everybody knows the good guys lost

Everybody knows the fight was fixed, the poor stay poor, the rich get rich,

And the Molina gets a World Series ring

That’s how it goes.

That’s not a prediction of a Rangers win, either: it doesn’t matter what happens in the World Series, who wins, or how they do it: Bengie Molina gets a World Series Ring no matter what.

This is (maybe) the last time I’ll mention that I did try to warn everybody.

Yes, having played for the Giants before being traded (about which he is slightly grumpy) to the Rangers, Bengie Molina is set, bling-wise.  Whether that ring will end up emblazoned with rubies in the shape of a drag queen or a diamond-studded cameo of Chuck Norris is the only thing that remains to be decided.

Bud Selig and the Player’s Association can blather on all they want about steroid testing and expanded playoffs, but when are they going to something about the terrible Molina imbalance that makes an even playing field truly impossible? What will happen when the fans of Molina-less teams eventually realize they have no real chance of success as MLB is currently structured? It’s a disgrace.

While you enjoy the World Series tonight, please take a few moments to write a strongly-worded letter to your congressperson.

(Photo by Harry How/Getty Images)

Thanks to these two pussycats:

Mr. Murdoch and Mr. Dolan…

…looks like I will be one of many who won’t be watching the Whirled Serious.

[Drawing by Larry Roibal]

Peace to Think Factory for pointing out this most cool Life Magazine photo gallery of the 1955 Whirled Serious.

There isn’t that much in today’s papers on Bill Shannon, the New York Press Box Legend who died yesterday at the age of 69 in a house fire. Disappointing, sure, but not a surprise–it is the eve of the World Serious, after all.

Still, there is plenty on-line, including pieces by Howie Karpin, Roger Angell, Keith Olbermann, Joel Sherman, Wallace Matthews, Pete Abraham, Joe McDonald, and most notably, Marty Noble. Noble writes:

The AP, which employed Shannon on a part-time basis for years, reported that a neighbor had placed a ladder up to the second floor to reach him, but the neighbor later said Shannon was unable to break the window and disappeared into thick smoke. Shannon had an apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan for years, but had moved back to live with his mother after she developed problems about five years ago.

For all he did professionally — and there was much — he become a tad anonymous and borderline invisible in recent years when his primary responsibilities had included official scoring and his tireless work with the New York Sports Hall of Fame. If he were recognized at all, it was while working when a television camera focused on him in the press box at Citi Field or Yankee Stadium after he made a scoring decision the announcers thought to be wrong. But Shannon knew the scoring rules as well as Billy Martin, Tony La Russa, Joe Torre or any umpire knew the rulebook.

Shannon took pride in the reputation that he helped create — that New York had “tough” official scorers.

“He was a hard scorer, but hard is fair,” said Jack O’Connell, the New York-based secretary-treasurer of the BBWAA. “No homers here.”

Those who disagreed with Shannon’s decision to charge a fielder with an error often heard these words from OS Shannon: “This is the big leagues, sir. That play is supposed to be made.” He was objective to the Nth degree, but he did allow his absolute disdain for the sacrifice-fly rule to show through. Shannon was certain hitters didn’t deserve “free outs” for sacrifice flies and made his opposition apparent by his tone when he properly credited one.

Here are a few more thoughts on Shannon…

Ed Alstrom:

I thought he was a great guy. He was always cordial to me in the booth. My one lasting story of him is not much, but here it is: when I was asked to play ‘Goodnight Sweetheart’ at the end of the last home game in YS2, he was the only one that knew the song and the history of Layton playing it there (not surprising, I guess). I remember him singing it to me outside the stadium.

Sweeny Murti:

We should all hope that we are as good at our jobs and as respected for the jobs we do as Bill Shannon was.

I’ve covered games in nearly every ballpark around the league and in many of them reporters turn around and stare at each other after a bad call by the official scorer. “How is that a hit?” we usually say with disdain. I can tell you that never happened in Yankee Stadium when Bill Shannon was scoring, not by us and not by any of the out-of-town reporters either. Bill took his job as seriously as anyone I’ve ever known. That’s probably what made him so good at it.

Bill’s delivery of a pitching line was as unique as Bob Sheppard’s introduction of a batter. He was the voice of the press box in the same way that Sheppard was the voice of Yankee Stadium. If you cover enough games, Bill’s style of delivery is ingrained in your memory. It begins to feel as if Bill’s way is the only way to read a pitching line:

“The line on CC Sabathia…7 innings pitched. 5 hits. 2 runs. Both earned. 1 walk. 8 strikeouts. 1 home run.”

Then a pause, followed by a repeat, this time read at light speed as one long run-on sentence until a final pause before the last item.

“Sabathia, 7 innings5hits2runsbothearned1walk8strikeouts…and 1…home run.”

Unique is an overused word. It describes Bill Shannon perfectly.

(more…)