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.

Of Many "What If"s

Last years' Cleveland Indians “What If?” advertising campaign was well received by many of us, to say the least. The short commercial managed to capture the scope and depth of so much of what we celebrate and enjoy about baseball and its history in Cleveland.

And, as someone who always thinks that if you can't be at a game, baseball is best watched on the radio, I thought the radio versions were even better than the video. The simple and unanswered question “What if it never happened?” reminded us of a long history at League Park, Municipal Stadium, and Jacobs' Field. It connected us with Tris Speaker, Lou Boudreau, Rocky Colivato, and the great and recently passed Bob Feller. It reminded us that our history included the pioneering activities of the first Larry Doby as African-American player in the AL and Frank Robinson as the first African-American manager. Most of all, it connected all these together into a single thread.

Perhaps, then, we should reconsider one of the questions it posed last year: “What if the 90's were just the 90's?”

I first came to Cleveland and became a fan of the Indians in the 90's, yet the connection to that longer history is more important than just recalling a brief period of sellouts and division titles. In fact, knowing I may be approaching blasphemy with his statement, in many ways the 90's were not the end-all-be-all of baseball. We were winning, true. There was excitement, also true. 455 sellouts. But I also saw a team eventually move from building a championship group of players to maintaining the status quo. Instead of developing a generation of players, we now had to pay the same outrageous payrolls and trade for star power. The ill-fated trade to bring John Rocker to Cleveland really made me reconsider if this was a team worth cheering for, or just another baseball business meeting financial success.

Thus I'm a bit disturbed by this year's continuation of the “What If” spots. Unlike last year's evocative and emotional ad connecting us with a longer past, this year seems more concerned with the idea of bringing back the 90's.

Thome was great – Thome came back. Alomar was great – Alomar came back. Lofton! Back in some capacity. 455 sellouts … please come back?

 The 90's were a good time for baseball in Cleveland. But for me, they were great not because of our victories. The real greatness came from sharing seasons in a good town for baseball. Many others hav written about the unique set of conditions we had at the time: the Cavs didn't matter, the Browns were gone, the Jake was novel, etc.

 What no one can account for is the difference between then and now in terms of the fans I met and how fluently and insightfully everyone was talking about baseball. I remember talking to older fans on the train who told me about the starting rotations they grew up with. I remember listening to Herb Score call games, sometimes forgetting who was playing, and my coworkers forgiving him and telling me why they loved listening to him. (I'm almost certain one game in 1997 he called a play where Feller was pitching to Mickey Mantle.) What I miss most about the 90's isn't the players whose memories I still cherish, nor the sellout streak that meant I almost never got to go to a game. What I miss is that this was a great town for baseball, with fans who knew and loved the game.

 So what if the 90's were just the 90's? What if it we lost the world series in 1995? What if 1997 was a heartbreaking year? It's part of our history, and what if it's just one more part of a long tradition?