Evaluating Cleveland as a Baseball Town: Part I.

The most important topic addressed by this blog has always been Cleveland as a baseball town. What makes a city a great baseball town; how to understand what that means; how to make our city an even better town for baseball. Along with this my interests focus on the culture of baseball, the role of media and the changes that happen as social media increasingly transforms how we encounter the game, and, ultimately, how we approach and understand the game of baseball.

So I began this afternoon sitting inside on a hot day, listening the the Indians play the Cardinals, and intending to write about the topic of what makes a great baseball town as a response to the interesting interview with Indians President Mark Shapiro published Saturday by the Plain Dealer.  The overwhelming reason I was intending to write about this is because the other post I'm working on focuses on inter-League play, and inevitably that turns into an apocalyptic rant about the irreversible decline of American culture and the inevitable end of our way of life. (I get irrationally negative over the abhorrent abberation of baseball often called inter-League play.)

What attracted me to write about this interview was Shapiro addressing the concept of Cleveland as a baseball town. But I made an all too frequent error as I sat down to write. I scrolled down and read the comments. And now whether I talk about Shapiro and evaluation Cleveland as a baseball town, or the current inter-league nonsense, it's going to go poorly.

So let's hope that the Tribe pulls off a good win as I'm writing in order to lift my spirits.

Reviewing the interview and, unfortunately, looking at the comments, leaves me in a place where I have to admit that right now the front office is stuck doing three things: 1) Deflecting the same idiotic comments time and again (re: ownership, payroll, spending, revenue); 2) Answering inquiries on "evaluating" trades past or present (ranging from Ubaldo way back to the long dead horses of the C.C. / Cliff Lee trades); 3) Expressing some kind of confidence in Cleveland as a team and a worthwhile city for baseball.

Quite frankly, #3 is going to be the only one that matters in the long run; and my unfortunate reading of the comments reinforces that. (I need to block all of the cleveland.com site from my computer and only read it on my phone. The mobile site doesn't display comments.)

These points are really tied into my own central concerns of the cultures of baseball fans, changing roles of media, and what it means to be a baseball town. Why?

The comments following the article were, sadly, what they always are, a random combination of:

• Unfounded statements relying on totalizing language ("we never...",  "This team always...", "No one thinks...", etc.)
• Absolutist statements and ad hominim attacks, frequently amplified by the CAPS LOCK OF RAGE.  (e.g., "Shapiro is a LIAR", "The Dolans make huge profits", and various insults to the intelligence of all parties involved). 
• Direct attacks as rebuttals. (in the vein of "if you disagree, you're an idiot / on drugs / paid by the Dolans to write that")
• And, occasionally, brave souls who challenge the faulty logic, lack of evidence, or sheer idiocy of other commentators. 

Now, I know and hope that anyone reading this knows that comments on a news site do not reflect the general level of discourse. There is a strong inclination toward aggressive trolling and generally hostile interaction that comes from a combination of the security of anonymity and simply the demographics involved. And as I keep discovering, to my constant delight, for all the idiots making these kinds of posts and comments, there are many more who have no part in that discourse and just enjoy the game. I usually meet them on the RTA Red Line going to ballgames. I find them in the stands watching the game. 

Increasingly, and this is a very important point, I'm finding the better fans of the game claiming social media. Even as I write this I'm sending and receiving messages on Twitter from Cleveland fans delighted with a close, tight 1-1 game in the top of the 9th. 

This is why I say that the most important recurring motif I'm seeing in communication by Shapiro and the rest of the Indians Organization is expressing confidence in the fans and in Cleveland as a great city for baseball. Because this speaks directly to people like the fans I talk to on the train and the fans I follow on Twitter. This helps encourage us. 

The reality of the situation is that since the front office, especially Shapiro, are immediately put on the defensive, they've already lost. No amount of fact, no disclosure of information, no dose of reality matters. There is an established narrative that determines and decides what most people think, however idiotic. When you have to react to that, you've already given that narrative control. 

It really remains up to us to reclaim the narrative and redirect it. 

#GoTribe

Off-Day Miscellaney

Well, if nothing else, the last two series saw some gorgeous weather. It's early enough in the season and the summer that I can focus on that and ignore injuries, pitching problems, missed offensive opportunities, and the mysteries of left-handed pitching vs. the Tribe.

In other matters, some items of note off twitter this week. It has not been a good week for Cleveland and the Indians' fans, despite Nick Camino's deft work in getting the hashtag #LopeyTime trending during Jose Lopez's plate appearances, with some help from the Indians' pressbox.

My work here is done. Well done Tweeps! You guys are passionate and enjoy a good laugh. Yes, it's confirmed: We got #LopeyTime trending.
— Nick Camino (@CaminoTribe) May 24, 2012

The only item that really made me concerned this week -- even including Hannahan's return to the DL, news of Hafner's likely absence for 4-6 weeks, continued injuries to our catchers, and a flurry of roster moves -- came from Indians President Mark Shapiro:

Sorry for the silence but had a bunker mentality since injuries hit. 3,4 + 5 hitters and mid diamond players out. Guys will need to step up!
— Mark Shapiro (@MarkShapiro) May 28, 2012

We're going to loose games; it's baseball. Injuries happen, and it may be better that they're coming earlier this year so we have more time to adapt, not to mention having enough time to insure solid recoveries and not end up with a revolving door on our disabled list. But falling into a bunker mentality? That's something we need to avoid.

Meanwhile, at the risk of this blog turning into a Chris Perez fan-page, even after the drama surrounding his comments a few weeks ago, subsequent reactions,  and more recent "controversy", CP continues to impress this author. Following the comments on attendance, he backed his words with actions by buying three pair of season tickets to be given away daily. So on home game days, CP usually tweets a trivia question for the chance to win tickets.

So far, so good, right? Not just backing up his words, but directly interacting with the fans. And if there is anything I excel at, it is amassing useless information. Bring on the trivia. But today was an off-day, and instead of a trivia question, Perez sent out the following:

I will be at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame today around lunchtime; The first three people to introduce themselves will win 2 tix for tomorrow
— Chris Perez (@ChrisPerez54) May 31, 2012

Alas, my store of useless knowledge is, well, useless. I'm nowhere near the Rock Hall, and I wouldn't make a trip out to introduce myself just because I think think everyone deserves a day off and time him- or herself. Growing up in another city where "celebrity sightings" were a constant experience I'm kind of sensitive to letting people live their lives and just be people. But I wanted to comment on this nonetheless. Not only has Perez stood by his words respectfully and articulately, not only has he backed them up with four knock-out innings since speaking and by giving away tickets, he's just going on doing what he enjoys in the city I live in and the town I love.

The two qualities I've always admired in Perez as a player and a closer are his willingness to take responsibility for his performance whether good or bad, and his "short memory" that allows him to go out the next day and neither resting on past successes nor wallowing in prior failures. All those media questions and twitter trolls asking about whether he worries about "fan backlash?" Forgotten already.

So an off-day tip of the cap to Chris Perez, who continues to impress me with his integrity and his willingness to stand up, speak out, and keep reaching out to and welcoming his fans.

A Lazy Sunday for Slow Games and the Head Game

Little to say about the series in Chicago thus far. I suppose it is noteworthy that, given how much concern has been raised by commentators over how many walks our pitchers have given up, there was only one walk in yesterday's 14-7 loss. Otherwise, I'll just stick with saying it's a long season and 162+ is a lot of baseball.

Instead, with a respectful not to the ever eloquent and thoughtful "Lazy Sunday"posts each week at TheDiatribe blog, I'll offer some brief thoughts of my own on this warm Memorial Day Weekend Sunday.

I enjoy pitching. The brilliant game this past week between Masterson and Verlander kept me spellbound watching each pitcher get his outs, or pitch out of jams, or the unbelievable ability of Verlander to find more speed and power as the game goes on.

Now, I know many people don't share my love for close pitching battles.  I remember a close game last season, an inter-league match between Cincinnati and Cleveland on May 21, 2011. I took a friend who is more of a casual fan of the game and after what I thought was a thrilling, fast-paced game we met some friends in Ohio City. They asked how the game was and he said, "Good, it was pretty slow for awhile but it picked up near the end."

I stared at my scorecard in shock trying to figure out how a game that finished in 2:21 could possible have been slow. Through six innings there were only three hits. There was no scoring until the top of the 7th, when Brandon Phillips was hit by a pitch, advanced to third on a single, and scored on a ground-out. The Tribe answered in the bottom of the seventh with a lead-off single by Asdrubal Cabrera and scored 2 runs on a 2-out home run by Travis Buck. By end of the 7th, Josh Tomlin and Hector Bailey had faced a combined 50 batters with 190 pitches. That, to me, was a fast paced and exciting game!

But I recognize how for most of the sell-out crowd that day the highlights were the free Choo jerseys and the thrill of a homerun in the bottom of the 7th. And both were exciting, even if the promotional jerseys had a hot-dog company logo on the sleeve. I can understand how most people want to see towering home runs that make the crowd stomp and cheer. The game I was watching and thoroughly enjoying is more like what Roger Kahn described in his classic on baseball from the pitcher's perspective: The Head Game. Watching the pitcher face off each batter, thinking about what he's throwing and why; trying to understand -- from the distant perspective of the top row of the upper deck -- what he's doing and why. Kahn called it "chess at 90mph", and one of the delights of baseball is playing along in my head and trying to understand, keeping track on my scorecard and revisiting each match-up at a later date, still trying to understand it.

Admittedly, I'm no expert. Neither at pitching nor at chess. I've never played, and whatever daydreams I have of debuting on the mound as a phenomenal left-handed fire-baller, I have never thrown a fastball and only understand the mechanics of breaking pitches in theory. For that matter, my own visual acuity is rarely sharp enough to tell one pitch from another when watching the game. In fact, I'm not even left-handed. But part of the joy of baseball remains watching and trying to figure it out; always learning, always seeing something new and unexpected.

This part of the game has only grown more fun in recent years. Alongside my writings in theory and prose, there are countless blogs and articles at his very moment expanding the statistical representation and analysis of baseball. I can, and will, say more about this in forthcoming posts. But the explosion of sabermetrics and "moneyball" approaches to the game present even more opportunities for delving into the Head Game, really playing along by thinking about the game, and getting more deeply involved.

This is a key point for the use of statistical analysis and modeling, at least for me. Along with each blog post or article out there, there's a comment thread full of arguments ranging from methodological battles over statistical analysis to personal insults to ordinary vapid cheering of the "My team rocks, you guys suck" variety. I can't get behind the methods or the math as a definitive understanding of the game, nor as a process of finding the right or most perfect way of describing and predicting the progress of baseball. But it is, and remains, another avenue of entering into the head game. For that, I'm happy to dive in and dust off my old statistics and calculus textbooks.

Wednesday, 23 May 2012: Det 2, Cle 4

For what it's worth, I try not to miss Dollar Dog Nights. The hot dogs are sub-par, and my body never likes me for it, but still. So I had my tickets to last night's game long before Chris Perez called out booing fans or before low attendance became the big story of our division-leading Cleveland Indians.

Besides the hot dogs, last night's win over the Motor City Kitties may have been one of the best games I've seen at Progressive Field. Zach McAllister pitched a great game from the beginning, throwing first pitch strikes and challenging hitters throughout the game. There were more miscues on the field than I wanted to see, but a 2-run Pronk bomb tied the game at 2-2 in the 6th.

Things got interesting in the 8th. With Prince Fielder up, Tony Sipp came in. Prince got to first despite a perfect shift with Kipnis playing short right field. Vinnie Pestano came charging in with his usual hustle, but Young and Boesch both reached on singles. Bases loaded, no outs, and 22,000 screaming got the Bullpen Mafia into form. A three pitch strikeout got he first out, a grounder to first got Fielder out at the plate and saved a run, then the inning closed with a full count swinging strikeout. At some point I realized I had already screamed myself hoarse, but more to come...

Jason Kipnis went 3 for 4 with singles in the 1st, 6th, & 8th -- undoubtedly the result of a pre-game offering of sacrificial rum to Jobu. In the 8th Kipnis broke the tie when he came around to score on a fielder's choice and a bad throw from the Tiger's mammoth first baseman and Cabby scored an insurance run on a Santana sacrifice.

Enter Chris Perez in the 9th, who has been nothing but class since his comments last week about negativity and poor attendance. The highlight of the night, for me, was after his last pitch when he saw the ball pop up he just walked straight off the mound toward Santana at the plate. Pure class and confidence.

This may have been the best game I've ever seen. Not just for the excitement of a nail-biter, but because the crowd was engaged. The people around me knew their baseball and were behind the players -- far better than nights when I'm surrounded by the bros who catch SportsCenter every now and then and check with the batting averages on the scoreboard before insulting the players.

Now all we can do is hold on and go for the sweep.

Gate A

Baseball is full of intangibles, both on and off the field. Why a given pitcher is unpredictable, how a team can manage to play above or below expectations, how or why it can evoke utterly irrational behavior and arguments.

One of these intangibles will always be the excitement of going to a game, and no matter how many games I make it to or how many different ballparks I visit, walking in to a game in Cleveland remains one of my favorite experiences.

I don't really remember the first time I went to a ballgame. It was probably 1980 or 1981 and my dad took me to an Oriole's game. Apparently it was kid's hat day or something; he still has my diminutive O's hat from that game hanging in his office. I remember it was blazing hot and I remember thinking that the scorching bleachers at old Memorial Stadium were going to burn my legs off. But I don't remember going to the game itself. 

There's a certain unique quality to every ballpark. I think of the days I lived outside of NYC and the swell of traffic sweeping you along into Shea Stadium for a Mets game. Going to Wrigley for a Cubs game means walking through the ever denser crows at the bars and on the sidewalks in Wrigleyville. Oriole's Park at Camden Yards takes you into Eutaw Street and the buzzing, fair-like atmosphere full of cheap food and souvenirs: almost like a gradual transition from the traffic of the Inner Harbor to the excitement of the ballpark. And going to most minor league parks feels a little too well organized and business-like, hardly worth mentioning. 

But going to an Indians' game...

I avoid, whenever possible, driving to a ballpark. It tends to be necessary for minor league games, but even when I go to other Major League cities I try to spend the day in town and either walk or take public transit to the game. Once in Chicago I rode a bike and parked right at 1060 W. Addison, but again, I prefer to take transit. 

The first time I lived in Cleveland I was on the East side, now I'm on the West side, so it's always been a simple matter of riding the red line train to Tower City. Given how much time I spend away from Cleveland, and how I always notice strangers wearing a Tribe hat and make sure to go talk with them, I love getting on a train full of fans heading to the game. Especially day games, when I often go alone and invariably end up sitting with some older fan who tells me his (and increasingly, her) stories of Indians baseball long ago. A few weeks ago, after my 8th or 9th revision to this year's scorecard, I took my newly-minted 2012 scorecard with me and ended up next to a fan who was making the final pre-game tweaks to his own new score-keeping program on his iPad. Not only does it thrill me to have this time with fellow Tribe fans, but it's a great reminder that amid all the talk-radio and comment-thread negativity, most of us just enjoy going out and taking in a game. 

One year after I moved away from Cleveland the first time, my sister got me a little desktop replica sculpture of (then) Jacob's Field. When I try to explain the delight of going to a game, it usually means I pick up the model and make my unfortunate listener pretend they can see the perspective of walking south on Ontario and turning on Eagle Ave alongside the ticket office. While Camden Yards and even the approaches to Wrigley and Shea felt like being pulled into a growing excitement, for me there's nothing like the overwhelming feeling of coming up Eagle Ave to Gate A and suddenly seeing the entire stadium open up. Walking towards the gate suddenly the seating bowl opens up through the fence. Sometimes full of people and the noise of pre-game activities, sometimes empty and awesome in its size and capacity. Instead of the slow crescendo of other parks, the approach to Gate A is like a sudden and overwhelming explosion. 

I don't think my demonstration with the 6" model of the stadium ever quite manages to convey this. But on a recent trip downtown before a game I was trying to describe this to a young couple going to their first game, and the smiles and interjections of the other passengers on the train suggested that I'm not the only one who feels overwhelmed and excited at that approach, walking up Eagle Avenue and seeing the field spread out, and the seats rising up and around. Even if I can't remember the excitement of the first game I saw as a child, every trip through Gate A leaves me with child-like delight.