My childhood raises its hand once in a while to demand attention. It could be because one of my four kids could benefit from a story from that time, but more often it is a reminder of the loyalties and lessons from 30 years of being in and around pro baseball.
My childhood raises its hand once in a while to demand attention. It could be because one of my four kids could benefit from a story from that time, but more often it is a reminder of the loyalties and lessons from 30 years of being in and around pro baseball.
After colliding in the outfield yesterday, both Jason Heyward and Kris Bryant are not in the lineup today. It raises the importance and difficulty of communication in the outfield and the safety issues that come with it when it fails.
Kris Bryant is an MVP, Rookie of the Year, World Champion and a super talent. Not just because he displays the outward abilities like power or hitting for average, but because he has the less visible skills, like good baserunning, plate discipline, intangible instincts.
When the Cubs made me their first round draft pick in 1991, it was easy to see it as a dream come true. The chance to play as a profession, a game that I loved since I could walk. My brother, eight years my senior, taught me the game, rule-by-rule, inning-by-inning, until I learned to love not only playing it, but the stats, the decisions, the cities, the culture, the history.
I know what it’s like to play in Philadelphia. I was there as a major leaguer from 1998 to 2002, then again in my final year in 2004, but even before that, I played there in college from 1988 until the 1991 draft.
With commissioner Rob Manfred’s announcement yesterday that Major League Baseball will hold off on the universal designated hitter, it took me back to this scene when I was playing in the American League for the first time at the ripe old age of 32.
“Seriously, their starter is still in the game?” I wondered.