The Yankees Win; MoC Suffers

Not because I hate the Yankees. I don't.

This morning at 8 a.m. Penn Station was teeming with Yankees fans of all ages preparing to travel downtown to the parade. It took me twice the amount of time it usually does to get from my train to the street.

Worse, the train ride home this afternoon is going to be awful. Forget about getting a seat. The train will likely be full of the very same people but this time many of them will likely be drunk.

I know. It's all about me.

Damon's Dash

Just because it was successful doesn't mean it was smart.

Everyone I heard was gushing about Damon's steal of second in the ninth inning last night followed by his mad dash to third when he realized that no one was covering the base (The Phillies had a shift on for the pull-hitting lefty Mark Texeira so their third baseman was covering second).

I think it was a pretty dumb play. Damon would have scored from second on almost any hit to the outfield (and, as it turned out, A-Rod hit a double that might have even scored him from FIRST!). So, getting to third with two outs did not add that much but the risk that he took was immense (especially with A-Rod and Posada the next two batters). As I saw the replay, he didn't miss geting tagged out by very much (at the beginning of the dash; once he got some distance, he was clear of the third baseman).

Can you imagine how the fans and the press would be howling if he had gotten tagged out?

But all's well that ends well for the Yankees. When you are destined to win, whacky plays like this one seem to all work out in your favor. Just don't call it smart baseball.

Next Year in Jerusalem (On My Bike)

Today was a tough day for me.

Every year on the day of the New York Marathon I feel pangs of regret that I'm not running. This year was especially tough because I actually was entered to do it. (I dropped out because my knees blew up but I would not have been able to do it in any event because of my recent surgery).

I know in my heart of hearts that I will never do another marathon; my knees and ankles are simply not meant to run 26 miles at a time. The fact that I managed two New York Marathons (15 years ago) is miraculous. But I still feel that yearning every year because it is one of the coolest athletic experiences I've ever had.

Making this year even tougher is the fact that the Alyn bike ride also started today and, for the first time in five years, I wasn't doing it. I hadn't planned on doing the ride this year for a number of reasons. For one, my firm's annual conference was last Thursday so I couldn't have gotten to Israel in time for the start of the ride. More importantly, with a four year old, it's just too hard on MHW for me to disappear for at least ten days. Again, as it turned out, I wouldn't have been able to ride anyway. I only started spinning last week.

(Adding to my frustration this morning was the fact that I went to the gym hoping to do a spin class. I hadn't signed up but I'm usually able to get in off the waiting list. Today I was aced out by a bunch of tubby guys who showed up at the last minute but have absolutely no clue how to spin (they should live and be well). Instead, I worked out with weights and then went home and did 45 minutes on my own spin bike. Ich kenesht.

The good news is that MHW and I are thinking about taking the Vance to Israel with us next year for the ride. OYD will be in seminary and, this way, I will only be away for the five days of the ride but will be able to spend the weekends together with the mishpacha. Maybe I can get OOS to join me.

Post script: I heard from one of my buddies that the weather on the ride is miserable.

Against Moneyball

Interesting article in the New Republic arguing that "Moneyball" doesn't work and that Michael Lewis' praise of Billy Beane was unwarranted. (Hat Tip: Big Brother)

A few thoughts: Billy Beane was, in certain respects, the victim of his own success. Teams with much more money than the Oakland A's (most notably Theo Epstein and the Red Sox and the Yankees) started to implement some of the ideas that Beane promoted. Consequently, the market inefficiencies that Beane tried to exploit were narrowed and teams with more money could pay up for the players that were truly valuable.

(An aside: The Baltimore Orioles of Earl Weaver vintage played "Moneyball" long before the Oakland A's hired Beane. Weaver believed in walking and hitting homers. He rarely bunted and eschewed the idea of "small ball". He was the true revolutionary even though he didn't use computers).

I am not suggesting that Beane was infallible or that all his theories were good. But one would be silly to suggest that there hasn't been a significant change in the way the game is played and players are valued since he came on the scene.

The Wretched Mets

It is hard to do justice to how wretched the Mets were this past year but an article in Vanity Fair (Hat Trick: Big Brother) comes pretty close.

(As I noted in an earlier comment on the Great Joe Schick's blog, things got so bad at Citi Field that, towards the end of the season, I literally could not give away my Mets tickets. And, as an aside, I have to disagree with Mr. Schick. I do not think that "pathetic" adequately describes the Mets. Wretched is much more appropriate).

So, naturally, the Wilpons are bringing management back. Makes a lot of sense.

Little People Not Welcome

The Wall Street Journal writes about the NFL's version of hagbah discrimination.

I could be my shul's James Harrison and the gabbaim would never know.

Wall Street Cycling Chick

From the Wall Street Journal:

By Reed Albergotti

Evelyn Stevens left a career on Wall Street less than two months ago to pursue professional cycling – a sport she picked up to get some exercise last spring. In one season, she has gone from relative unknown to one of the most promising American cycling talents in years, perhaps decades.

Cyclist Evelyn Stevens had a full-time job on Wall Street just over a year ago. She went from winning regional races in the Northeast in April, May and June to winning top caliber, multi-day races in July, to finishing in second place in the top-level Route de France last week. (Ms. Stevens lost time after crashing during a time trial in that race, hurting her chances for the overall victory.)

The next big question is whether Ms. Stevens will be chosen by USA Cycling’s selection committee to compete in the World Championships next month in Switzerland. It’s a hilly, 77-mile race. Appointment to that team would put her among the top handful of women cyclists in the country, and her inexperience suggests she could still improve tremendously.

Reversion to the Mean

One of the great things about listening to sports radio is the amusement the dopey sportscasters bring me with their utter stupidity. When I tell this to MHW (who knows almost nothing about sports), she can't understand how sportscasters can know so little yet remain on the airwaves.

Two recent examples:

Susan Waldman made perhaps the dopiest comment I've ever heard when, after a batter moved a runner from second to third on a grounder to second base, she said "the Yankees thrive when they play 'small ball'". No, Susan, the Yankees actually thrive when they hit three run homers and crush the ball. They are in first place because they lead the league in OBP, slugging percentage, RBI and runs scored. They lead the league in total bases by 125 over the second ranked team. They are second in home runs and average. They are not in first place because they move runners from second to third with no one out. Nor because they execute sacrifice bunts or hit and runs. Or steal bases (they are 7th). Duh.

But even better is the reaction of virtually every talking head about the Mets "steal" of Jeff Francoeur from the Atlanta Braves. Because he started out on a hitting streak, these dopes made it sound like Francoeur was the next coming of Mickey Mantle. I laughed every time I heard that because I was more or less familiar with his career stats. His lifetime on-base-percentage? .309. Lifetime average? .267. Strikeouts to walks? 487/130. (And this after his first couple of years before the league totally figured him out).

Now that Francoeur has reverted to his mean, perhaps the dumbells will shut up and realize that the Braves aren't as stupid as they think.

Huge Upset in Soccer

U.S. defeats Spain in Confederation Cup semifinal.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Rain; No Game

This weather is really starting to p*ss me off!

Bad enough that it's virtually impossible to ride my bike (although I did sneak in a 46 miler last Sunday morning), the rain followed me to Chicago during my recent road trip.

I had scheduled meetings and a speaking gig for Tuesday/Wednesday knowing that the Cubs were playing the White Sox at the Friendly Confines. I had scored bullpen box seats for Tuesday night through one of my law firm contacts and was all set to enjoy a nice baseball game at the coolest park in the Majors. A nechter g'toog.

It poured all day Tuesday, into the night. They postponed the game. Bummer.

(Another sign that the Aibishter runs the world).

I am now trying to think up a reason for why I have to go back to Chicago in September when they rescheduled the game.

Memories of Shea

Inspired by the Great Joe Schick (my new partner-in-tickets at Citi Field), herewith some of my musings on Shea Stadium.

With "Judah".

Pulling "an Uppa"

I've had many great memories at Shea. I caught a wicked line drive on the fly; I met Darryl Strawberry on the field, and, most importantly, I spent a lot of quality time with my dad and kids.

Lost Opportunity

As expected, the Yeshiva hockey league commissioner, presumably caving in to pressure, copped out and will let HAFTR play the chamionship game without imposing any penalty whatsoever. What a joke.

On the Horns of a Hockey Dilemma

A number of my hocker sources have informed me that there was a brawl at the recent HAFTR/Magen David hockey semi-final playoff game. Apparently, with about 90 seconds to go and HAFTR up 2-0, one of the MD guys put a very aggressive hit on one of the HAFTR players who retaliated. The benches cleared and, I am told, all heck broke loose and there was fighting among players (and even parents). After order was restored, the game was called as it was, and HAFTR won 2-0.

As a keen observer of the human condition, I have been asked to weigh in on l'affair HAFTR/MD Brawl.

This is tough one (that really isn't). Normally, a player who is involved in a fight is automatically suspended from at least the next game (Indeed, when OYS was a senior, an opposing player viciously smashed him into a wall out of frustration and was suspended for the next game). So, do you suspend the entire team and forfeit the championship game? I think the answer is a resounding yes. This is one of those important chinuch moments where a strong administration has to step up and do the right thing, as painful as it is.

The only reason the decision is tough is because it penalizes innocent kids; i.e., the team from DRS who would much prefer to win the championship on the gym floor.

It will be interesting to see how the administration comes out but I don't see that they have any real choice.

Thoughts?

The System, One Year Later

I am now almost two years removed from my last game as a hockey dad. But, on Wednesday night, I went back to the Greenhouse to watch OYS's school play in a playoff semi-final.

Pretty much everything I wrote here pertains to Wednesday's game as well. The Good Guys won 3-1. The System worked and THE GOALTENDER WAS GREAT!

But I have to admit. I miss watching OYS play. There was simply no one on either side who played with his panache. I always knew he was a special player but I am getting a better sense of it as the years pass by.

Finally, it was great to see the coaches who played a such an important role in OYS's high school experience. And Mazal Tov to MD.

(Speaking of MD, highlight of the night: With about 4 minutes remaining and the Good Guys protecting a one-goal lead, MD gathered the players and warned them that the other team would be sending their third and fourth men deep. He told them if you lose your man you won't play again "and, I don't mean tonight..I mean EVER!". But he said it with love.

Punching Your Ticket For The Big Dance

I listen to about ten minutes of sports radio each day. On my way to shul, from shul to the train station and from the train station home. Nevertheless, I have heard the NCAA basketball tournament referred to as the "Big Dance" about 6,000 times in the last week. This, coupled with hearing some iteration of the phrase "XYZ University just had their ticket punched for the Big Dance" is making me ill.

Enough already with the Big Dance. I'd rather listen to Shiny Shoe Music than have to hear "Big Dance" or "Ticket Punched" one more time . (Not really, but it sounds good).

Perspective

Yes, it's true that the market is cr*pping out and Citi's stock isn't worth the paper it's written on, but, on the other hand, pitchers and catchers reported this week.

Let's keep everything in perspective. A guten Shabbos.

A-Roid

Speaking about enough, enough already with the A-Roid stuff. Who cares? Seriously. Get over yourselves, reporters. The guy took roids, he didn't kill anyone. Time to move on.

Time To Get A Life

On my way to the office this morning after an early morning meeing, I passed by the Barnes & Noble on 46th and 5th. There was a line around the corner at 9 a.m. for a 12:30 p.m. book signing by Joe Torre. It was cold and snowy.

What could possibly possess someone to wait in the cold and snow for more than three hours for the opportunity to pay $25 to get a book signed by Joe Torre?

I don't get it.

Playing Scared

I knew the Jets were going to lose today when they didn't go for it on fourth and a half yard at the 2 yard line in the first quarter. Losers plays that way. I can't imagine Parcells or Belichik settling for a field goal in that situation.

Donald Trump and Steve Phillips

What do Donald Trump and Steve Phillips have in common?

We all know who the Donald is. He's the self-proclaimed real estate magnate who has, in fact, driven a number of businesses and properties into the ground (I personally worked on the Plaza Hotel and Trump Shuttle workouts twenty years ago, but there have been many more; he is now presiding over a massive mess in Chicago where he is building a huge skyscraper hotel/apartment complex that is headed for a blowup). Steve Phillips is the failed Mets general manager who, among other things, traded Scott Kasmir for a sack of rotten tomatoes (or the human equivalent thereof), and was caught in a "situation" with one of the Mets female employees (while married).

The beauty part, as my father would have said, is that despite their relative failures, the Donald and Steve have been able to become wealthy by selling themselves as experts in their relative fields.

The Donald is hired by other developers a shill, writes best sellers about success in business and has a TV show where he's held up as a management expert. Steve Phillips pontificates on Fox and ESPN as a baseball expert.

This is what makes America a great country.