In Olden Days

In these hot lazy days of July we have been given time to relax and ruminate and that instinct has been nourished by the recent spate of commemorations that have replaced Michael Jackson Overkill with Nostalgic Vibrations from years past. Specifically the year is 1969 (which I believe was also the title of a movie, though one with a lot less prominence with other titled fare such as "1900." "1984", "2001," and "2010").

It's a matter of some distress to me that 1969 was forty years ago. 40 years. That's two generations, the time it took the Hebrews to cross the Sinai desert, and as close in history to 1929 as it is to our present day. And it also means I will be observing my 40th year since I graduated college (actually next year, but who's counting?) The latter fact is a little too difficult to grok (there's a '60s word!) but so is the fact that I'll be entering my seventh decade in a few months.

But, as Obama said, this isn't about me. It's about an amazing technical accomplishment that fulfilled a fantastic promise of an idealistic young president and got us to the Moon and back--one of the great heroic engineering feats, and perhaps the only good event to have come out of the Cold War. It's about a music festival in Woodstock that was all pot and stink and mud and somehow became an iconic cultural confluence of every music trend that began with the Beatles.

Coincidentally, what both events have in common today is the detritus that were left in their respective wakes. How unfortunate that the strides in space flight that were not so comparatively expensive did not lead to the wonders of the "2001" moon colony but just a few expeditions to study cosmic rocks. And that there has never been anything to compare with Woodstock, since it was a social Happening specific to one rebellious generation and not likely to recur given the staid and smug Gen-Xers, Yers and Millennials with their twittering and IPhone forms of discourse.

I did not attend Woodstock, and was not aware of its significance at the time, though I was one of the billions who watched the grainy telecast of the Moon landing and Neil Armstrong's first steps. It was the first time, perhaps, that I was aware of the historical import of a moment before it happened, which is perhaps why I always thought Neil Armstrong's rehearsed line was, well, less than what Ralph Waldo Emerson might have said. Where was Maya Angelou then?

Yest for all those historical benchmarks, what is it that most endears me to the year 1969? Well, here's a hint: I was a dedicated New York sports fan. And the year 1969 produced a double miracle from both the baseball and football worlds. In January Joe Namath led the Jets to a very unlikely win--which he publicly and outlandishly predicted--over the superior Baltimore Colts. And that was not nearly as improbable as what graced the other denizens of Shea Stadium, the New York Mets, later that year. They also upset a vastly superior team from Baltimore, the Orioles, thanks to some amazing catches by Tommy Agee and the flat-footed Ron Swoboda, homers form Al Weis and Donn Clendenon, and shoe polish that proved a hit-by-pitch in a critical spot. The entire series had the makings of a miracle, and in fact God Himself (well in the person of George Burns in "Oh God!") took credit for that as his most recent beau geste.

Fortunately for me I could root for both the Jets and the Mets, thanks to their underdog status, even though I was more a fan of the New York Giants and Yankees. But the edification I got from those victories was more aesthetic, and nothing compared ot the joy of a Yankee Series triumph or the recent Giants win over the arrogant Patriots.

I am not likely to be around in 2049, but those that are may be reading of this day, 40 years ago, when a White Sox pitcher named Mark Buehrle pitched a perfect game that was saved in the ninth inning by a miraculous over-the-fence catch by defensive replacement DeWayne Wise. The ball popped out of this glove and he snatched it back with his bare hand, allowing the crowd and of course the distraught pitcher to exhale in awesome wonder. Of course with that help the conclusion of the game fell nicely in line. I was privileged to be able to watch the final inning this afternoon thanks to my MLB subscription, so I can add that memory to some of the more engaging baseball highlights I've seen. And that's what nostalgia is about.

First Half Mea Culpas

First, a note to Terry, my One and Only Audience: I am so impressed that you remember Richard Armour. His books tickled me like no others. "Twisted Tales from Shakespeare"! Love it.

Now to business: the Baseball Season is entering its second half, starting with the annual foolishness that is the All Star Game. Though it's engaging to watch all those players compete together, albeit briefly, and count the numbers of my Rotisserie players that made it to St. Louis (eight this year!), the outcome has become something like what Charlie Brown was to expect with Lucy holding the football. One awaits what comical misstep the NLers will make to deny themselves once again home-field advantage in the World Series.

I've enjoyed something of a renaissance in my interest this season, thanks to a more successful Fantasy team, which is contending for the title, and a surprisingly proficient performance by the Yankees, who are likewise contending. At this juncture of the season they are usually foundering thanks to pitching deficiencies, but except for the collapse of C.M. Wang, they have generally performed well and survived the partial year given them by Arod. In tha difficult division there's no telling how they will fend off the Sox and the Rays, but they are at least deeply involved.

That was one of my few accurate predictions from my April blog, in which I posited that the three best teams in baseball are in the AL East. That seems almost true at this point, though the Dodgers have zoomed ahead of them all record-wise, so the Al East can be said to have three of the four best teams. I'm delighted for Joe Torre and the former Yankee coaching staff that flew west with him, and I've placed a World Series bet on the Dodgers in case they make it that far. That team gelled beautifully, even with Manny's weird absence. And thank you, Manny, for taking the heat off Arod. He didn't need it.

The rest of my forecasting, though, showed some troubling miscalculations for which I am heartily chastised. The worst, perhaps, was the selection of Cleveland as this year's AL Central champ. They have instead been awful, despite the predicted reemergence of Victor Martinez as the star. Grady Sizemore has been injured and only sporadically productive, and he was considered at the start of the season the top Fantasy outfielder in the game. And their pitching never blossomed, even with Cliff Lee retaining his form. With Fausto Carmona seeming to be a one-season wonder, they have had to depend on Carl Pavano, and you know how much he helped the Yanks. (In the Joe Torre/ Tom Verducci book I learned that they Yanks started referring to anyone on the DL as being "on the Pavano").

I also projected that Arizona would edge out the field in the NL West. That, of course, was before Brandon Webb's season (and possibly his career) went to hell, and without their star, the rest of the staff fell under too much pressure. And their offense has not matured as I thought it would, except for Justin Upton, whom I did not expect to do so well so soon, even outplaying his brother. But Stephen Drew, Chad Tracy and that ilk has not achieved sufficiently.

On the self-aggrandizing side, I did foresee some progress by the Giants, whose pitching has been pretty spectacular, even if they have now lost the services of Tall Ugly Lefty Johnson. Matt Cain has been terrific (for my Fantasy team as well), and Lincecum and Zito have performed up to or better than expectations. Their offense is not compelling and relies too much on Pablo Sandoval (also a Bronx Cheer), but the Giants are now in the lead for the Wild Card.

The advance of Texas in the AL West was not on my viewscope either, as their hurlers have done much better than one could have hoped. Who coulda guessed Scotty Feldman, much less a brilliant first half by oldster Kevin Millwood? Their offense is great and they have gotten Andruw Jones' mojo back, along with a breakout season from Nelson Cruz. All this with Josh Hamilton down and Ian Kinsler underperforming. They will be interesting in the second half but historically wilt in August. The Angels, perennnial AL West leaders, have had horrendous injury problems this season and yet are still cotennding with Vlad, Toriiiii, and Escobar spending most of the season injured. That they are at all involved is another testimony to baseball's best manager, Mike Scoscia.

Other developments that escaped my forecasting were the collapse of the Mets, though this was caused largely by decimating injuries, an aging pitching staff and a stadium that would not permit home runs by David Wright. The role of Phillies-challenger has been assumed by the Marlins, that annoying squad from Florida that manages to get good every five years, then totally collapse again for the next four. They probably won't be able to outrun the Phls, especially if Philly gets Pedro Martinez and maybe another starter (Roy Halladay?) to bolster their corps. They will be joined in the play-offs by the Dodgers, probably the Giants, and some team or other from the NL Central, which is simply Too Close to Call.. If you go by the superior pitching, though, the Cardinals will sneak in ahead of the Brewers and Cubs.

The Al Central has exactly the same three-team melee as the NL version. Who will sneak ahead from among the Chisox, Twins and Tigers? Rgiht now the Tigers have the superior mound staff, but I always hold for Minnesota, who have a history of strong second halves, as well as the most formidable line-up, especially from Mauer down to Cuddyer, all young stud hitters. They will need for another starter to step up, in their case Liriano, or they will be closing the Dome earlier than they hope.

And finally there's the Al East, with a wild chase underway. All three leaders have gotten untracked, and all are winning handilly most of the time over other inferior Al teams. Do the Rays have enough relief pitching to survive? Can Boston recover from the ineffectiveness of Dice-K and (so far) John Smoltz? Do the Yankees have enough breath left among their veterans to survive September? . And can they EVER BEAT THE FUCKING RED SOX EVEN ONCE? Stay tuned, it ought to be a bumpy and amusing ride.