Here’s the definitive test of how you feel about baseball in this spring of 2022, provided at the Small Park last night by the Brewers and Reds before 10,445 people, most of whom apparently were actually alive:
Ahead 5-1 in the 8th, Milwaukee manager Craig Counsell follows his Brewers-specific Book. It’s a good Book, one that has helped the Crew win lots of games the past couple seasons. Get six credible innings from a top-shelf pitcher such as Brandon Woodruff, Corbin Burnes or, last night, Freddy Peralta.
Shorten the game with a very good bullpen that more often than not relies on Brad Boxberger (7th inning), Devin Williams (8th) and Josh Hader (9th). Rinse and repeat. At least that’s how it’s supposed to work. Textbook Book.
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only tuesday night, Williams didn’t do his part. It wasn’t just that he was bad. It was that he took forever doing it. It was like the first golf lesson you ever get: If you can’t play well, at least play fast.
Williams threw 38 pitches to get two outs. He threw 20 balls. Very few were even close to the zone. He walked three Reds. I did n’t check the exact time before his first delivery of him, but I can honestly tell you the bottom of the 8th took four years. The 9-inning game clocked in at 3 hours, 50 minutes. Nations rise and fall in less time.
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so . . . how did you view this?
(1) Very nice bit of collective plate awareness by the Reds, most notably Pham, Moustakas and Moran. They didn’t bet Williams’ inaccuracy. Patient hitting is good hitting. It contributed to what would have been a very nice comeback. Or. . .
(two) An acute example of why baseball is going down the tubes. Four years to get three outs. If Counsell hadn’t pulled Williams, the game might still be happening. Or. . .
(3) How did I see what?
Lovers of baseball will tell you one of its charms is, it has no clock. Theoretically, a game could never end. The lovers make that sound like it’s a good thing. Where else you gonna go?
If you come to a baseball game with a stopwatch, you’re missing the point.
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The masses would counter with, more isn’t better. More is just more. I like chocolate chip cookies, but I don’t eat a bag of them at a time, unless I’ve been, well, you know, partaking. But that’s another story.
Or you could simply plead ignorance/benign neglect. You were at the game, at least in a physical sense, but you were so busy Woooo-ing that you had no idea a game was actually being played.
Which choice fits you? Was Tuesday night an example of why people enjoy baseball in 2022, or why they don’t?
Way to make something out of nothing, Doc.
Now, then. . .
I FOLLOW THE GAMES with the TV on, sound down, listening to the radio. What drives me crazier than Woooos are the ads. How many times must we hear the same Western & Southern ad?
You know the one. I used to like Glen Campbell singing Gentle on My Mind. Now, I’d rather hear a cat in heat. I mean, c’mon fellas, cut more than one commercial a season, OK?
Gentle is not on my mind when I hear Gentle on My Mind.
THIS IS VERY SAD for those of you who have been Mobsters from the start. (February 2006, 1st TML post was about climbing Diamond Head in Honolulu while covering, yes, the Pro Bowl. Those were the daze.)
Glenn Williams-Washington – aka Avondale’s Finest, aka Mason Mauler, aka-most-famously Swiggle Wiggle – passed earlier this week. He was just 55 years old.
For many years, Swigs and I had a love-hate relationship in This Space. Glenn was brusque, argumentative and contrary. He kinda like me. Glenn was a proud Black man, and very sensitive to any criticism of his favorite Black athletes. I knew if I criticized Chad Johnson/Ocho Cinco, I could count on a blistering Glenn riff.
I loved it. Oh sure, Swigs could piss me off. Not everything was black and white. Or black-versus-white. But I relished Glenn’s presence in the comments. I wished we had more Glenns here.
(You might also recall Glenn if you listen to talk radio. On the radio, Glenn-from-Mason was the same as he was on TML.)
Glenn opened my eyes to a world beyond my own. He made me smarter, more aware. Plus, I’ve got the conversation flowing here, never a bad thing.
A few years ago, I wrote a personal, virtual note to Glenn, in which I thanked him for his steadfastness and his contributions to the blog. Nothing personal, I said. We let any animosity slide. It was easy. We promised to get together at Avon Fields for nine holes. We never did.
Rest peacefully, my friend. Knowing you, that’s a very tough ask. I’ll miss you.
WHAT A JOKE. . . In April, cops in Georgia pulled over a busload of mostly Black college athletes for the most specific of reasons. The Delaware State women’s lacrosse team was traveling home on I-95 when they were stopped for a supposed traffic violation.
What ensued was a search for drugs. Specifically, pot. The cops had a drug-sniffing dog. They boarded the bus, asked about marijuana, then searched for luggage.
I’m sorry. But this is wrong.
They had zero reason to suspect that a bunch of college jocks were transporting mass quantities of pot. USAToday:
Liberty County Sheriff’s Office deputies had begun removing players’ bags from the vehicle’s cargo bay to search after asking Jones to open it. Police had a drug-sniffing dog at the scene.
Liberty County Sheriff William Bowman defended the stop.
He said after speaking with deputies and reviewing video and other facts of the incident, he does “not believe any racial profiling took place.”
“Before entering the motorcoach, the deputies were not aware that this school was historically Black or aware of the race or the occupants due to the height of the vehicle and tint of the windows,” Bowman said.
That might be true. But it was a bad stop regardless. We don’t do stuff like this in America. At least we’re not supposed to. No one has offered any specific explanation as to why these cops would have reason to stop this bus.
As the team coach explained, “One of my student-athletes asked them ‘How did we go from a routine traffic stop to narcotics-sniffing dogs going through our belongings?’ Jenkins said. “The police officer said that on this stretch of highway there are a lot of buses that are smuggling people and narcotics and they have to be diligent.’ “The infuriating thing was the assumption of guilt on their (deputies’) behalf Jenkins said. “That was what made me so upset because I trust my girls.”
Diligent? Or overbearing?
Good police work? Or stupidly officious?
I mean. . . marijuana?
AND NOW. . . FunMaster David covers himself in willow.
Picture this: you’re down in Newport, looking at the picturesque Cincinnati skyline. It’s 80 degrees and sunny. The smell of barbecue wafts through the air, and you have a cold beverage in your hand. Live music is playing in the background.
This is set to be a reality this weekend as Smoke on the River BBQ Fest heads to Newport Festival Park at Riverboat Row. The event runs May 13-15, and Newport will be marinated with the area’s best pitmasters, beverages, and bands. Admission is free.
Local vendors such as Sweets & Meats, Smokin’ Dews, and Quad Que BBQ will participate along with other food trucks and festival vendors to create a mouthwatering menu that consists of specialty dishes such as a BBQ Pineapple Boat, Cherrywood Smoked Sandwiches, a Grippos BBQ Sundae, and of course, a pig roasted and served on Saturday afternoon.
The event will also feature Ole Smoky moonshine frozen slushies with dozens of flavor combinations to choose from, as well as Miller/Coors and Braxton beers and Coca-Cola fountain drinks.
For the whole family, there are inflatables that offer unlimited play with purchase of a wristband, as well as face painting, and continuous live music from bands such as Dog House, SWAN, and Model Behavior.
You do not want to miss this event. Visit cincyfests.com for full vendor information, menus, and entertainment lineups.
TUNE O’ THE DAY. . . Doo-wop with garage sensibilities? Is there anything better than that? I think not. My son sent me this one yesterday. Rock-n-roll doesn’t have to be complicated.