A loss on opening day isn't the end of the world or even the
end of the season. It's not even the end of the series. In a season as long as major league
baseball's one game can be pretty meaningless except when you miss a playoff
spot by that same game.
But the Indians won't miss the playoffs by just one game
anyway so Thursday's loss to the Toronto Blue Jays will just be one that ends
up one one side or other of the .500 ledger that will define the season. Still, why is it that the Indians can't just
lose a game and move on like most teams?
Why do they have to do things in such a historic and miserable fashion?
And, for that matter, why does every loss have to illustrate exactly why there
aren't more wins?
Thursday's excruciatingly boring loss was actually the
perfect metaphor for an excruciatingly boring spring training. There was very little to keep one's interest
and most of the team and its coaches seemed to be going through the
motions.
The team that took the field on Thursday was much like the
variations of it that took the field throughout spring training. It featured players of various ill pedigrees
trying to catch lightening in a bottle of careers that just don't seem to be
panning out. Behind them is a front
office fixated on mining stats for greater truth while the ownership accepts the
reality of its financial fate without contemplating how to change the paradigm.
It's not as if there isn't some talent on the team. There is.
But if that’s the glue, what exactly is it holding together? You didn't just need a program to identify
all the new faces. You needed ready
access to the internet and its various resources to figure out the lineage of
the pieces and parts that general manager Chris Antonetti has cobbled together
to supposedly make a run at the Detroit Tigers. That's not exactly the textbook
way to build a championship team.
The good news in general and with respect to Thursday, which
news stands out as much like a sore thumb as anything, was Justin
Masterson. Eight very strong innings on
opening day is not to be so easily dismissed.
He could have and ahould have finished what he atarted Maybe he was tiring and had to be taken out
of the game. And in retrospect the
performance of most of the bullpen Thursday was such that it's really unfair to
second guess manager Manny Acta's decision to turn the game over to that
bullpen. It's just that you can't help but
feel bad for Masterson, whose career here has been mostly of the hard luck
variety and will continue as long as the bullpen is anchored by Chris Perez.
Perez made a mess of the game, yes, but in the larger sense
it's hardly a surprise. Perez himself is
an undisciplined mess and that stems not just from a truncated spring training
spent mostly nursing an injury. It also
stems from the fact that Perez seems to care little about his own conditioning
or even his station in life. Perez is
deliberately taking the anti-athlete approach to one of the more critical jobs
in baseball and the Indians will suffer for it, just like they did Thursday. Is
it any wonder that the injuries he does suffer are suspiciously similar to
those of the weekend warriors who throw a ball around about once every six
months?
I get the sense that Perez seems far more interested in
courting an image as a character then actually going about preparing himself to
pitch in the major leagues. He's out of
shape and that doesn't seem to bother anyone associated with the Indians,
including Perez. CC Sabathia wasn’t and
still isn’t a picture of conditioning either so maybe that doesn’t much
matter. Still would it kill Perez to
visit a salad bar once in awhile instead of Five Guys?
Perez stood up after the game, bloated, unkempt and took the
blame for the loss like a pro is supposed to do but yet he seemed so casual
about it, the regret about his performance dripping from his mouth with ease
like excess barbecue sauce from a pulled pork sandwich, it made me wonder
whether his pitching really bothered him.
I doubt it did.
A closer has to have a short memory because saves do get
blown. So in that sense there's no problem with Perez immediately putting the
game behind him. But the concern with Perez is that he doesn't seem to care
about anything—his conditioning, his appearance, his performance, his
teammates. Just cash the checks for as
long as they roll in and then figure the rest out later.
As much of a problem as Perez appears to be, let's also not
obscure the fact that with the Indians, Cleveland now has three professional
sports teams that can't generate offense.
It's as if Antonetti rehired Eddie Murray to be the hitting
coach when no one was looking. Given how
low key the whole spring training regimen was, it's likely that's exactly what
happened and we just didn't notice.
All the hallmarks of a Murray-coached offense were there
Thursday and throughout spring training however: the lack of approach, the lack
of patience, the inability to move runners.
The Indians played 16 innings on Thursday and scored in only
one of them. Sadder still, they didn't
put themselves in a position very often in any of those other innings to score.
When they did, they couldn't get it done mainly because of a lack of
discipline. In context there was no
chance the Indians were going to score again during that game. It was just a matter as to when the Blue Jays
would and put everyone out of their misery.
Twice Indians' hitters came to the plate with a man on third
and less than two outs and twice they failed miserably. Asdrubal Cabrera's weak grounder with the
bases loaded was everything you needed to know about why. After Michael Brantley had walked on four
straight pitches, Blue Jays manager John Ferrell decided to engage in a massive
display of over-managing. Either that or
he knew that Cabrera would never hit the ball out of the infield anyway so why
not load it up with as many players as could fit?
Ferrell was right.
Showing all the patience of a puppy, Cabrera didn't even wait to see if
Blue Jays pitcher Luis Perez, who didn't sniff the strike zone with Brantley,
could find his control. Instead Cabrera
offered at the first pitch, which he could barely get a bat on, and grounded
into an inning-ending double play.
Honestly it was everything you needed to know about how poorly this team
prepared for the regular season wrapped up in one nice little moment.
There's no telling how the Indians will finish this
season. They got rocked on opening day
last year and recovered pretty nicely.
It is just one game. But yet when
it comes to this team, why does it never seem to be just one game?
**
About that Gregg Williams tape...
Roger Goodell finally had a smoking gun and the real
question now is whether professional football can survive. It's not an abstract
question
Let's start with a more obvious point first, however. Gregg Williams will never coach in the NFL
again. He probably won't be able to get
an assistant defensive line coaching job in a Pop Warner league either. For vastly different reasons, Williams is
every bit as untouchable as Jerry Sandusky.
There's also another obvious point as well. Goodell really had no choice but to do what
he did to the New Orleans Saints, head coach Sean Payton and Williams. On tape and in the most specific way
possible, Williams addressed his players on who to hurt and how. If that was the only evidence Goodell had it
would still be enough. Even if there
wasn't a boatload of lawsuits pending against the NFL, Goodell still had to do
what he did.
Now here is where it gets tricky.
I'm not fond of the whole “everyone else does it defense” as
a way of excusing what the Saints did but you just know it's true in this case.
The broader question, the one that
Goodell doesn't want to contemplate even as he has, is whether the attitude of
Williams is so institutionalized in the sport that ridding it is a losing
battle. If that is the case then football will eventually die because
eventually the pool of people who want to be deliberately maimed for money will
go dry.
The NFL has always had and will always have a certain
element of miscreants within its midst.
There are simply players that find it perversely satisfying to try and
deliberately hurt their opponents. Oddly they aren't the problem so long as
they represent the exception.
The problem is that football has too long glorified these
exceptions in order to build brand cache. Pittsburgh Steelers' resident thug
James Harrison deliberately courts an image as a tough guy and goes about his
business on the field proving it with all manner of cheap shots intended to
injure. He's been rewarded handsomely for it, his cheap shots shown repeatedly
and not just as a cautionary tale but as an illustration of the state of the
game.
It's not as if Harrison is the only one. Some of the more storied players in NFL
history got that way precisely because their violent tendencies are the stuff
of legend. Those legends aren't urban,
either. They are an institutionalized
part of the NFL experience, extolled by coaches, rewarded by owners and
celebrated by the media that vote them into the Hall of Fame.
The question on the table now that all of the
concussion-related lawsuits ultimately will attempt to really answer is whether
football can survive in any other way.
If you ask the majority of the players, they will say it cannot because
any concession by a player about the violence of his sport is considered
cowardly. But it is this mostly silent
majority of players that need to speak up now and defend Goodell and what he's
trying to accomplish instead of hiding behind the increasingly reprehensible
DeMaurice Smith and his misguided attempt to always blame management for an
issue his members mostly control.
It's sickening when Hines Ward defends Harrison each time he
deliberately cheap shots an opponent. It's sickening when Drew Brees defends
his head coach while abandoning the union brothers like Frank Gore who were
deliberately targeted by his coach. It's ridiculous to extol Scott Fujita as
one of the NFL good guys most concerned about player safety when he actively
participated in the bounty pool.
Players of stature, like Brees, Fujita and Ward should
instead have been the most vocal on calling out their teammates for their
damaging behavior. Every word and deed in support just furthered the
institutionalization of the problem and made it that much more difficult to
stop.
The union and its members are on the wrong side of the
problem when they openly mock Goodell, as many have, for trying to take a safer
route for such a great game. It’s simply not true that football can’t survive
without all the cheap shoting. It can and has.
What football can no longer abide is a head in the sand approach to the
life threatening nature of the way some players and coaches want to play
it. If it has to abide that because
Goodell has failed or because he has been undermined by the very players he’s
trying to protect, then that is what will kill the game.
**
Still fixated as I am on the Indians at the moment, this
week’s question to ponder: What is the Indians’ back up plan if Chris Perez’s
Thursday is a trend and not an anomaly?
1 comment:
While Goodell may appear, from the outside, to be standing alone, when any of us are standing with our true convictions on the inside, we are not standing alone. Living true is truly living. Yeah.
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