Your Portland Beavers 5, Sacramento 1

Inning One: The Long Hello

Despite my privileged status as Official Baseballing Journalist, I have as yet — apart from a sweaty-palmed interaction with Kyle Blanks, son of Peleus, on Media Day — I have as yet to take advantage of my access to any of the actual members of the Portland Beavers. Part of this is logistical. I literally don’t understand where to find them and/or when. Part of it is cowardice. Almost every baseball player either a) is huge or b) wears a goatee or c) both. I have trained myself to tread lightly around these sorts of humans in other walks of life, and so, obviously, I’ll need time to adapt in a professional capacity. And finally, part of it is lack of interest. Whether due to a wariness of the press, or an inability to articulate themselves, athletes are rarely able to explain how they do the things they do.

Of course, in their defense, athletes are frequently asked questions which are impossible — or at least very difficult — to answer. A baseball player, after hitting a game-winning home run, for instance, will be taken aside by an on-air personality and asked something along the lines of, “Tell us what happened out there, Mister.” To which said Mister will typically respond with a series of well-rehearsed platitudes, including (but not limited to):

• “I was just waitin’ for my pitch”
• “I was just lookin’ to drive the ball”
• “I was just tryin’ to do my part for the team”

or

• “I was just playin’ the right way”

My smart friend Ross McSweeney points out that, were players to answer these questions accurately, their responses would be either unbearable or uninteresting. Imagine, if instead of one of the cliches to which we’ve all become accustomed, J.D. Drew busted out with the following after jacking the aforementioned game-winning donger: “Well, beyond the fact that, by virtue of excellent hand-eye coordination, I’m preternaturally disposed to hitting a baseball, I’ve also trained my body to do so since about the age of four or five. Probably the same could be said for the pitcher who I was facing, as well. Taking into account what you might call my “platonic” skill level, and the platonic skill level of said pitcher, there was probably a 20% chance that I’d strike out, a 15% chance that I’d walk, maybe a 20% chance that I’d hit a single, and about a 6 or 7% chance that I’d hit a home run. The last thing is what happened.”

Okay, I admit it: the first or second time a player said that, it would be awesome. Brian Bannister of the Kansas City Royals has actually gotten pretty close. But once the novelty wore off, it’d be weird or annoying, or both. Also, it’s impossible that a player would ever say this type of thing, so it’s what we in the industry refer to as a “moot” point.

Inning Two: Introducing: The Ecstatic Truth Baseball Interview

Perhaps because athletes are able to do such things with their bodies as to surprise and render suddenly breathless us spectators, we same spectators expect that they — i.e. the athletes I was just mentioning — ought to be able to do the same with their words. Thing is, that’s not really their job. They’re already doing their jobs, whether it be jacking the occasional donger, striking homies out, or, in the case of Los Angeles Dodger Manny Ramirez, wandering aimlessly around the left fields of assorted National League stadia.

Rather, it’s the sportswriter’s job to eulogize these conspicious displays of physical excellence. Unfortunately, many sportswriters don’t understand this. They report what happens, sure. They scribble up the occasional human interest piece, sure. But is today’s sportswriter really ever concerned with capturing the actual experience of spectatorship? I’m skeptical.

The Good Reader may or may not remember this interview with Werner Herzog to which I linked in the Inaugural report. Relevant to the present discussion is where Herzog says:

Fitzcarraldo, for the uninitiated, is, speaking quite technically, not a documentary. Go to your local video store and it will be in the drama section — or, if your video store has one, the Crazy People section. Regardless, it’s not a documentary film.Herzog would say that’s because we have heretofore only acknowledged the “accountant’s truth” as befitting of the genre. Herzog would go on to say, my guess is, that Fitzcarraldo is a documentary because it’s a film in which he most urgently documents the human experience.

I mention all of this by way of introducing what I would like to call the Ecstatic Truth Baseball Interview. You see, as I figure it, alot of baseballing journalists waste valuable time “interviewing players.” And where does it get’em?, I ask. A notebook full of cliches? The occasional “fact”? Well, here at Ecstatic Truth Headquarters, we’re not particularly concerned about getting information straight from the horse’s mouth. What has a horse ever said that’s so great, anyway? No. Rather than asking “What does so-and-so have to say about this?” we like to ask “What would we want so-and-so to say?” and the we print that instead. It’s an important moment in journalism, this, and I’m glad to be sharing it with you today.

In short, the Ecstatic Truth Baseball Interview is an attempt to introduce Herzog’s revolutionary view of film and apply it to sportswriting. The chances of it succeeding, when you consider all the different factors, are probably zero, or a little bit less. Regardless, below is an initial public offering. Bon appetit, ladies and germs.

Inning Three: Ecstatic Truth Baseball Interview: Gabe DeHoyos

Gabe DeHoyos is a relief pitcher for the Portland Beavers. He does not approve this message.

PORTLAND SPORTSMAN: Gabe, thanks for agreeing to speak with me fictionally.

GABE DeHOYOS I didn’t really have a choice, did I?

PS: Right. Well, listen, I really only have one question. I’m looking at your career stats here, and I’m noticing that in 2003, with the Schaumburg Flyers of the independent Northern League, you had 44 K and 23 BB in 59 innings pitched. That was better than your 2002 season, in which you notched only 20 K against 15 BB in 22 and 2/3 innings. In 2004, though, your numbers improved dramatically: 44 K and only 8 BB in 32 and 1/3 IP. I’m wondering, did you develop a new pitch? Work with a different pitching coach? What’s the deal?

GD: What happens in Schaumburg stays in Schaumburg, Cistulli.

PS: That doesn’t make sense.

GD: [Glares menacingly]

PS: Surely I’m not prying by asking you a simple question about your pitching style…

GD: [Glares very menacingly]

PS: … and that concludes our interview with reliever Gabe DeHoyos. Please join us next week, when I assume the fetal position and cry for my mother.

Inning Four: A Brief Dialogue between Reader and Writer

In which the author puts words in your own mouth.

READER: Carson, I’ve been reading your Reports, and I’m just wondering: is it really necessary for you to attend these game, because it doesn’t seem like it’d be?

WRITER: I’m sorry, you’ll have to speak up next time; I’m a trifle deaf in this ear.

Inning Five: Kyle Blanks Watch!

Kyle Blanks has a tongue as of flame and a mind as of flame and a Louisville Slugger as of flame.

In 4 PA Thursday night, Blanks went 1 for 4 with a 1B.

In 4 PA Friday afternoon, he went 1 for 3 with a 1B and BB.

His line entering tonight’s game was: 315/448/481 (AVG/OBP/SLG) with 11 BB and 14 K in 67 PA.

Owing to some “work” I was forced to complete for my “job,” I was able only to attend, and not write about, the Beavers’ 2-1 victory over Fresno this past Monday. It was a noteworthy game, though, for a couple reasons. First, the Beavers didn’t score their first run until two outs in the bottom of the ninth. Second, it waseverbody’s favorite Enthusiast Kyle Blanks, who knocked in the game-winning run in the tenth. Moreover, it was the way he knocked it in that was particularly impressive.Coming to bat with the bases loaded and one out in the bottom of the tenth, Blanks hit a ball on the ground third base-wards. However, to call said ball a “grounder” would be a dreadful misnomer, on account of how hard this ball was struck. But don’t take my word for it. Just ask Fresno third baseman Scott McClain, who was forced to spend the night in four different hospitals after he foolishly attempted to field Blanks’s crushing blow.

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: Ladies Love Kyle Blanks.

Inning Six: Rob Neyer Watch!

ESPN Senior Writer and sabermetric ubermensch Rob Neyer was in attendance at this afternoon’s game, and I took the opportunity to harrass him.

To get a general sense of our conversation, watch this.

When I did finally begin to “use my words,” I found it wasn’t baseball we were discussing, but NBC’s Thursday night lineup. In fact, the only thing I really remember asking him was what he thought of 30 Rock guest star Salma Hayek, and I’m not even sure how to render “breathy silence” into print, so I actually have zero content to share.

Inning Seven: Stretch

Besides writing some of the hottest Game Day Notes you’d ever care to read, Beavers Media Relations Intern, “Rocket” Rob Morse, has also developed a rather impressive capacity for pun-ifiying any major leaguer’s name you’d care to think of. He uses the ability mostly as a vehicle for naming his four fantasy teams, which he re-names on a weekly basis. Some recent incarnations include:

• Danks Alot, after White Sox pitcher John Danks
• Cruz-in’ USA, after Rangers masher Nelson Cruz
• The Grady Bunch, after Indians center fielder Grady Sizemore
• Elvis Has Entered the Lineup, after Rangers’ rookie shortstop Elvis Andrus

and

• Inge Benefits, after Tigers mostly third baseman and occasional catcher Brandon Inge

That’s good stuff, for sure. But as an always intrepid, frequently ecstatic reporter, my instinct is to push any and all proceedings to the max. It was in that spirit that I posed to Rocket what I considered to be a great challenge in the field of punnery — namely, Seattle Mariners southpaw Ryan Rowland-Smith*.

And congratulations to Rocket, who not only accepted the challenge eagerly, but responded with an answer no more than half an inning later. His submission? Ryan ‘Roo-land-Smtih, which is not only funny, but goes the extry step of acknowledging Rowland-Smith’s Australian heritage.

*The only hyphenated name in the majors, if I’m not mistaken.

Inning Eight: Fantasy Pants

I would be remiss not to keep the Good Reader abreast of the goings-on of everybody’s favorite fantasy baseball team, The Old Americans of the Sneeze League. Previously, you might remember, the present author was growing dissatisfied with the performance of Milwaukee southpaw Manny Parra, who’d posted only an 11 to 9 K/BB ratio in 14 and 1/3 IP through three starts. Well, after his — i.e. Parra’s — most recent display of mediocrity, management felt the need to make a change, and decided to take a chance on recent St. Louis call-up P.J. Walters. Though he’ll be pitching out of the bullpen for the time being, Walters posted an impressive 7 K versus 2 BB in his first start, and has demonstrated above-average groundball rates throughout his minor league ascension. Plus, he was born in 1985, which gives him keeper status in the incredibly famous, highly-esteemed Sneeze League.

Inning Nine: Game Summary

Sean Kazmar. Grand salami. Endgame.

Comments

By Creston on April 27th, 2009 at 9:40 am

That was a good article, made me laugh several times. Hats off to the ubermensch label for Rob Neyer.

By Holly Young on April 29th, 2009 at 7:56 am

Really great writing. Seriously entertaining.

By Dan Hoonose on April 30th, 2009 at 12:30 pm

It’s obvious that, as someone who knows the secrets of Schaumburg, the Schaumburg of my youth is gone. Because the secrets are completely mentionable namely sneaking into movies, not realizing that it is close to Chicago and Chicago is much more entertaining, paintball, basement bongs, and hating the St. Paul Saints (ok that last one is a lie).