August 15- San Francisco Giants

This post pertains to the specific date posted above. Enjoy.

My parents had separated for only a few months when my other decided to take my brothers Matt and Adam and myself to Livermore, California to visit our grandmother for a weekend in August in 1989. We had left on Friday the 11^th, but we returned to our home in Bakersfield on Wednesday the 16^th after missing a few too many days of school. It wasn’t like my mom to have us miss class, but I think she needed some extra time to spend with our grandmother to really grasp everything that had come to her and my father splitting up. From what I can recall the eventual divorce hit my oldest brother Matt the hardest as he was about to turn 11 in November, and at that age the sense of “I did something to cause this” was starting to settle into his mind. My brother Adam, who would be turning 10 the same month, took a protector role as I was too young to really understand what was going on. As the years pressed on these roles shifted slightly; Matt hated my mother for almost two decades as he eventually blamed her for their split, and Adam flip-flopped a bit on things as he became way more rebellious and sometimes took his frustration out on me. I merely sat back and observed, occasionally taking the role of the leader as I became way more methodical about the situation as I got older. As I loom back on the way things have panned out, it almost feels like a dream. No child should ever be put in that situation. I fully understand that marriage isn’t a for sure thing, even in a Mormon household that I grew up in. Everyone will be changed in some way, but it’s how we react to that adversity is what truly defines our character. I did my best to rise above the pain and frustration, as did my brothers, mother and father, but that’s not to say we didn’t slip from time to time. Today we’re all a bit happier. My mother and father don’t speak to one another, but my brothers and I don’t hold the grudges against either of them, nor do we bicker and fight like we used to anymore. I’m not entirely sure how my brothers got over it, but for me, I was always sought sports for my comfort.

1989 was an especially weird year, and the divorce made things especially odd when the World Series came around that October. Adam and my father had both grown up huge San Francisco Giants fans while Matt and I favored the Oakland Athletics. Obviously we all know how that series panned out. Matt and I were more than jubilant while Adam and my dad had the bitter taste of defeat in their mouth. My mother was indifferent due to her Boston Red Sox loyalty, but from what I recall, it was the last time I remember us all being collectively involved and happy in the wake of the madness that would slowly tear us all apart for the majority of 20 years.

There’s a reason I brought all of this to the table and most of it has to do with that weekend in August. While I remember small bits and pieces of my brothers and me running around the neighborhood of my grandmother’s house on Drake Way, I only partially remember my mother crying and her mother trying to console as I looked on in confusion. As the days passed I did my best to entertain myself by watching movies and baseball to kind of tune everything out since no one was making an effort to fill me in on everything that was happening. That weekend the Athletics had taken two out of three from the California Angels and beat the Cleveland Indians on Tuesday by the final score of 5-2. As for the Giants, they had lost two of three from their longtime rival the Los Angeles Dodgers and had begun a three game series on Tuesday in Montreal against the Expos. The Athletics game wasn’t on, but the Giants game was being broadcast on KTVU, so my brothers and I ended up watching it that evening. There’s a reason why I remember all these little bits and details even though most adults shouldn’t more than 24 years later. This was the night that I, and every Giants and Expos fan who happened to be watching that game, saw Dave Dravecky pitch for the last time.

8/15/89: It would be a few years before I fully understood what I was watching. I had heard the name Dravecky a few times in the three years that I had been following baseball, but it didn’t really stick until he took the mound against the Expos. He had started the game for the Giants, only his second appearance/start of the season after he underwent surgery in October of 1988, in which doctors removed half of the deltoid muscle in his pitching arm and froze the humerus bone in an effort to eliminate all of the cancerous cells that had been spreading throughout his left arm; his pitching arm. He had returned to the mound after an extensive rehab run in the minors on August 10^th against the Cincinnati Reds, a game in which he would thrown eight innings while only allowing three earned runs on four hits and a walk on the road to the win. 

Against the Expos Dravecky had started out on fire, throwing a no-hitter through three innings before giving up a single to Andres Galarraga with one out in the top of the fourth. Dravecky went on to retire the next two batters. The Giants tacked on a run in the top of the fifth inning to give them a 1-0 lead. Dravecky had a some trouble in the bottom half of the inning, but managed to get through it after allowing back-to-back singles by Tim Wallach and Mike Fitzgerald before retiring the next three batters. Dravecky recalled a tingling sensation in his arm throughout the inning, but persevered. In the top of the sixth Will Clark led off with a single before Matt Williams cranked a two-run blast off of Bryn Smith to give the Giants a 3-0 lead going into the bottom of the inning. With a lead in tact and the minimum amount of innings to get a decision in the books, Dravecky took to the mound to face second baseman Damaso Garcia. Dravecky’s first pitch was a ball, but his second pitch was right down Garcia’s wheelhouse as he blasted it to deep left field (3-1 Giants). The next batter was Galarraga. Dravecky started off a little shaky as his arm was started to bother him more intently. He got Galarraga up to a 2-2 count but eventually beaned him on the sixth pitch. A few Expos fans booed, but it’s pretty obvious that Dravecky didn’t mean to retaliate over the home run, especially after getting the next batter to a 2-2 count. With Galarraga on first base, up to the plate came the ever-dangerous Tim Raines who had gone 0-1 with a walk in his previous two plate appearance. After a brief cool down Dravecky got into his wind-up and fired a shot that went high and to the left into the net behind home plate. Before anyone could grasp what had happened, Dravecky dropped to the ground in writhing pain. The shoulder on his pitching arm, in the same area where the surgeons had removed the cancerous tumors, had snapped. It’s not often that one sees a grown man in such pain on live TV, but the gravity of the situation never leaves your mind. There are a few videos on the web that show what happened, but I’m not in favor of posting it. Fictional violence in film is one thing, but showing something horrific happen to another human being is where I draw the line. The news broke later that night of what had actually happened, but I didn’t find out until the next day. After a few more surgeries and staph infection broke out in Dravecky’s arm, he made the decision to have it amputated.

I’ve brought this up in a few of my other blog posts, in that I really didn’t come into my writing skills until I was 13-years-old. The moment it all became apparent was in Mr. Fowler’s American History class at Fruitvale Jr. High School in Bakersfield when we were given a major presentation assignment under the topic of “Triumph and Tragedy” or “Tragedy and Triumph.” There really was no wrong way of doing it just as long as the essence of perseverance was conveyed through our report. I chose Dravecky’s story through his book Comeback. One of the other reference items I had to aid me in my report was one of my favorite videos that I miraculously came across on Ebay back in 2008 on VHS called “Champions by the Bay,” an essential collectors piece for any Giants or Athletics fan. Due to the fact that the internet was really just getting dropped on the world at the time, all of my research came from these two resources and a scatter of magazine and newspaper clippings that I could come across. At the time, I didn’t know a whole lot about Dravecky other than his years with the Giants, what I later came to realize is that he was way more of a polarizing in baseball than most remember.

Born in Youngstown, Ohio Dravecky attended his hometown college, Youngstown State, where he was drafted by the Pittsburgh Pirates in the 21^st round of the 1978 amateur draft. He spent his first three years in the minors with the Class-A Charleston Pirates (1978) before getting promoted to the AA Buffalo Bisons, where he spent two seasons (1979-1980) going 6-7 in his first year and 13-7 with a 3.35 ERA in his second. When 1981 came around he was traded to the San Diego Padres where he went 15-5 with a 2.67 ERA and 141 strikeouts with the AA Amarillo Gold Sox. It was in this season that he became a devout Christian. 1982 with the AAA Hawaii Islanders started off just as prosperous, 4-1 with a 2.48 ERA and 26 strikeouts in 16 appearances (15 in relief), when he was called up to the Majors and made his debut on June 15^th of that year. From then until the middle of 1987 Dravecky made 199 appearances (119 starts) and finished with a 53-50 record, a 3.12 ERA, 456 strikeouts, one All-Star Game appearance in 1982 and one appearance in the World Series in 1984 against the Detroit Tigers, which they lost in five games. Dravecky pitched 10 2/3 innings in the playoff that season and didn’t allow a single run while striking out 10 batters. 

In the middle of the 1987 season the Padres traded Dravecky along with Craig Lefferts and Kevin Mitchell to the Giants in exchange for Chris Brown, Keith Comstock (who will appear in a future post), Mark Davis and Mark Grant. If you know anything about 1980s baseball, you know that the Giants totally owned the Padres on this deal. For the rest of the 1987 season Dravecky went 7-5 in 18 starts with a 3.20 ERA and 78 strikeouts as well as an appearance in the National League Championship Series against the St. Louis Cardinals, which they lost in seven games. Dravecky made two starts and went 1-1 despite pitching 15 innings while only allowing one run seven hits and four walks while striking out 14 batters. Seriously, he was lights out, but the Giants couldn’t give him any run support after Cardinals’ right fielder Jose Oquendo lobbed a sacrifice fly in the second inning of Game Six.

In 1988 Dravecky started off the season well, but was shut down after his start on May 28^th when the cancerous desmoid tumor was discovered. 

He had pitched in seven games, going 2-2 with a 3.16 ERA and 19 strikeouts. When he made his return at Candlestick Park on August 10^th he was met by a standing ovation from the sold out crowd of 34,810 fans. 

As I mentioned above, he pitched beautifully. His comeback merited the Hutch Award at the end of the season which is given to the player who "best exemplifies the fighting spirit and competitive desire" of Fred Hutchinson, by persevering through adversity. The award was created in 1965 in honor of Hutchinson, the former MLB pitcher and manager, who died of lung cancer the previous year. When Dravecky’s pitching career ended on that unfortunate day on August 15^th, one detail from that game ended up being an intriguing moment down the road. Garcia, the player who had hit the home run off of Dravecky in the top of the sixth inning, saw his playing career come to an end less than month later in September 12^th. The home run he hit would turn out to be the last in his 11-year career. Even eerier, a year after he retired, Garcia started to have double vision and was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. In 1991, Garcia had the tumor removed, and was told that he only has six months to live. The effects of the tumor left him with limited speech and certain movement. He recovered enough to throw out the first pitch of a Toronto Blue Jays playoff game in 1992, the team he had been with for the majority of his career (1980-1986). His oldest son suffers from hemophilia which prompted Garcia to run a baseball camp for hemophiliac children in the Dominican Republic. As for Dravecky, he found himself at an unusual crossroad after the additional surgeries, the staph infection and the eventual amputation of June 18, 1991. After his recovery Dravecky looked at his life and analyzed his relationship with God and realized that baseball was merely a stepping stone to reach the next step. He began touring as a motivational speaker he wrote two books about his battles with cancer and his comeback attempt: Comeback, published in 1990 and written with Tim Stafford, and When You Can't Come Back, co-authored with wife Jan and Ken Gire and published in 1992. He has also written a Christian motivational book titled Called Up which was published in 2004.

I don’t speak much of religion in my posts unless it is pertinent to the topic at hand. As I mentioned above, and in a few other instances, I was raised Mormon. Most of what I have done in life may not reflect that of the typical Latter-Day Saint lifestyle (alcohol consumption, tattoos, smoking, etc.), but the one thing that has stayed within my life from those days is my faith in God. I’m a firm believer in the philosophy of “everything happens for a reason,” but that part that I differ on from most religions is that I don’t feel that God is necessarily controlling those moments. To me, God is merely watching over us, working more as a conscience when it comes to moments of right or wrong and taking the next step. It’s really more of a comfort, kind of like the way our parents are always by our sides, reminding us that they gave us the tools to succeed and now it’s up to us to choose the right path as they look on. Nothing about what I believe is meant to persuade anyone. You are all free to believe what you want and do what you want, but this is merely look into how I became the man I am today as I reflect upon the moments from my childhood that somehow became involved with the day that Dravecky took the mound for the last time. Much like Dravecky, an injury while I was playing baseball is inevitably what ended my possible opportunity to play professional baseball. Obviously mine wasn’t as horrendous, but the end result was the same: Baseball is merely a platform for us to see what our greater purpose is. For Dravecky, it’s sharing his story and sharing his testimony and relationship with God. For me, it’s sharing stories through my writing and baseball in the attempt to become a better person and help others along the way. While my drive isn’t a religiously charged as Dravecky’s, the mission is still the same.

Originally I was going to save this post until I could track down a Giants 1989 World Series cap since he was a part of the team that year, but I have something else planned for that. Instead, I chose this cap that the team used as their game cap from 1983 until the end of the 1993 season. Even though there were a lot of stories to tell during that time frame, nothing really embodied the good spirit of those teams quite like Dravecky in the two-and-a-half-years he was on the field. When I laid out my design plan for my mascot and logos tattoos I did it with the intention that every single piece had a greater story behind it. For the Giants, I got rather subtly creative.

Originally I was going to add the old Crazy Crab that everyone used to hate, and I may still add that down the road, but ultimately I chose Lou Seal. More specifically, I found a picture of Lou Seal from a kids MLB coloring book which featured a picture of him giving the thumbs up. Now, being an Athletics fan I of course had to put my tweak on it by giving it a thumbs down on top of the old school green underbrim on the cap; however, there is one aspect that I was very specific about that very few ever notice. If you look above you’ll notice that Lou Seal isn’t exactly all in frame. Yes, his legs are being boxed out by Chief Noc-a-Homa below, but the left arm was purposely covered up/removed as my tribute to Dravecky. Also, and this will blow your mind even more, if you look at the full tattoo below you’ll see that the two team mascots to his left (the Reds and Expos) are the last two teams he faced, and the last two teams he notched wins against as the Giants still won the game on August 15^th as they preserved a 3-2 lead to end the game. 

I may not see eye-to-eye with Giants fans most of the time, but I do respect their history and quite a few of their players. Until the day comes when I am dispatched from this life, I am happy to have Dravecky always be a part of it.

August 13- Canada World Baseball Classic

I’ve been to Canada three times in my life. The first time was when I was 19-years-old. My girlfriend at the time and I traveled north to Vancouver, B.C. for a weekend of boozery and gambling. What ended up happening is that I became violently ill after the first night, but still partied through the pain. When we got back to Vancouver, Washington I dropped by the doctors office to see what was wrong with me after my fever of 104 degrees wouldn’t go away and because I was actually pissing orange. At first my doctor thought I had contracted hepatitis, but I lucked out and only had a wicked case of mononucleosis.

The second time I ventured up was in during late August of 2009 when my then-girlfriend took a job teaching German at an immersion school in Anchorage, Alaska. She didn’t have a lot of stuff to move, but we managed to get it all into her Ford Focus and drive all the way from Eugene, Oregon to her new place. It took us four days and close to 3,000 miles to make it through some of the mostly uninhabited, yet strangely beautiful country that I never in my life imagined that I would have ever visited. It took me four-and-a-half hours to fly back to Portland and she promptly broke up with me less than three weeks later. Needless to say, my experiences with Canada were not exactly the most riveting.

My last trip came in late July of 2012 when I flew into Toronto to meet up with my friend, and fellow MLB Fan Cave hopeful Dave Barclay (@DaveBarc). I stayed with him and his wife Krista for about six days and took in four Toronto Blue Jays games, two against my Oakland Athletics and two against my friend, and another Fan Cave hopeful Jay Tuohey’s (@TheRoar_24) Detroit Tigers before I headed east to Montreal to visit my good friend Dave Kaufman (@TheKaufmanShow) for a week. In short, it was one of the greatest experiences of my life.

My time in Toronto felt like it flew by way faster than it did. The first leg of my journey started at the airport when I was almost not allowed into the country. Due to the fact that I was staying for such a long period of time, leaving the country by car with Dave and looking the way I do made a few people in customs a bit suspicious of my trip. It wasn’t until I fibbed a little bit and said that I worked for Major League Baseball that they started to come around and understand what I was doing. Due to the fact that the Expos no longer play in Montreal it caused a bit of red flag. I had to explain to them that I was writing a book on Olympic Stadium and the culture of baseball in Eastern Canada before they finally understood my purpose for being their. After an hour-and-a-half delay I received my stamp and approval and I made my way to baggage claim and then on out to Dave’s car as we had to then haul ass to the Rogers Centre for that night’s game against the Athletics. Thank God we made it too, as that was the game when Josh Reddick pulled off the Spiderman catch to rob Travis Snyder of a home run and the Blue Jays suffered their biggest home loss (0-16) in franchise history. I was left grinning…

Dave had a bit of sad face.

The next game I went to solo, but met up with a fellow Athletics fan from Canada named Brad Baker (@Beleaf33).

We both managed to score tickets right behind the visiting (Athletics) dugout, but our seats were a ways apart. Oddly enough, a few of the Blue Jays fans in the surrounding seats pointed out that there were two empty seats together and invited us to sit together, because Canadians are too damn nice! I met up with Jonny Gomes before the game started and a few of the other players were shocked to not only see me outside of Oakland, but in another country. 

I explained to them that I had it planned out in advance all around catching the last two games of the series which helped their morale quite a bit. As everyone took their place on the field I headed back to my seat where I was stopped by two of the ushers asking me if I was the guy from the Fan Cave. I smiled and said yes and we chatted for a bit about it. To be honest, most of my time in Toronto at Rogers Centre was met with people stopping to take photos with me and to ask about my experience. I don’t say any of this to brag, I honestly am humbled by all of it and was very appreciative of everyone who paid attention to what I had done and all the support they had and still give me. When I got back to my seat it was time for the National Anthems. Because we were in Canada they started with the Star-Spangled Banner, which the singer flew through because, well… it’s Canada. I sang along with it as I usually do and gave a sporting cheer afterward. Then, it was time for Oh Canada. I know this sounds weird coming from someone from the United States, but I actually really enjoy Canada’s anthem. I love it even more because everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, sings along with it. There’s no shame in not singing your anthem, but it’s kind of telling how a culture is based on how many people are involved with something that seems insignificant. And to be honest, I sang along too. I’ve sung for all of my life, believe it or not, and Oh Canada is one of those songs that has a wonderful harmony and movement that is almost irresistible to resist singing to. More important, it’s truly inspiring. Don’t believe me, check out this video from Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals in 2011. Chilling.

One point from this game that I’ll never forget is when I was standing in line for a beer and I met up with one of my now friends Seth Ehrenberg (@SethE19) for the first time. Seth is a marketing rep for New Era and one of the biggest reasons why I’ve developed such a close bond with the company, let alone had the chance to visit their headquarters in Buffalo, New York twice. After our chance meeting I ran into another friend, Jeff Sammut (@JeffSammut590), who is one of the regular sports talk guys on 590 Sportsnet in Toronto who has had me on his show numerous times as a baseball correspondent over the last year. Unfortunately, the Athletics were only able to take two out of the three games in that series, and after the loss in the final game I took to the streets of Toronto with a few random fans I met at the game and got absolutely plastered. Luckily I was able to sober up to meet up with Dave and his friend Matt to help make one of his Fan Cave correspondent videos he had been working on before and after his run. Here it is if you want to check it out. It’s pretty funny, except for me.

The rest of my time was filled with swapping stories with Dave and his wife, checking out a modernized Shakespeare in the Park production of “A Midsummer Night’s Tale” along with Jay before we all headed out to the Tigers/Blue Jays game the next day. I had also happened to catch the first game of the series with a few friends I had made while I was in New York, Kenneth Tan (@ktan09) and Eric Hartman (@EricHartman). 

Eric, Kenneth, Me

I also ran into a few others I met through Twitter, Steven P (@stevenact4) and another dude whose name escapes me at the moment. 

A few things I do remember from my time with Kenneth and Eric is that we got thoroughly hammered, saw Miguel Cabrera and Prince Fielder hit back-to-back home runs for only the second time that season, Eric won a gift card to Boston Pizza during the game and was shown on the Jumbotron

and I lost my only source of spending (my debit card) at said Boston Pizza after the game. Luckily I found it two days later. As for the game with Dave, Jay and Jay’s dad, shenanigans definitely ensued. 

On my final day in the big city before catching the train to Montreal, Dave invited Jay over so that he and I could be guests on his MLB podcast that he does with his friend Paul Frank (@pwgfrank) called Sunday Afternoon Baseball with Paul & Dave (@SABwithPaulDave). 

 Paul, Me, Dave

Bias aside, it’s one of the best, funniest baseball podcasts available which takes place during every Sunday Blue Jays game and features scores of guests all impersonated perfectly by Paul. I highly recommend it. As soon as we wrapped things up we all said our goodbyes and Jay and I caught the bus to the train station so he could bid me a fond farewell… and also because his hotel was right across the street from the station. Our adventure would continue in a month when I headed to Detroit, but I’ll save those stories for later posts. For now, I was on my way to Montreal.

 The train took about four hours to get there, but I was beyond stoked to finally land in a city that I had been wanting to visit since I was kid. Granted, I wanted to see the Expos play, but with that no longer and option I was equally satisfied with being able to spend time with my friend Dave Kaufman on his home turf. And Dave, being the gracious host that he is, kicked things off by taking me to a local pub called Grumpy’s for a few rounds and some pub trivia hosted by his good friend Amy Luft (@amyluft). Normally I’m really good at bar trivia; however, I felt an immediate bias due to the fact that at least two of the rounds focused heavily on landmarks and history around Montreal. I call those rounds my “Ryan Leaf moment.” Other than that, I held my own as Buck Rodgers judged me from above. 

Dave took me all over the city and introduced me to a culinary staple of Quebec culture known as poutine at one of the more famous spots called La Banquise. If you don’t know, it’s basically french fries with brown gravy and cheese curds. You can also add various meats like bacon to it like we both did, but I could only woof down about half of mine before the richness of it. One thing that I will never forget about La Banquise in the three trips that we made there (twice whilst intoxicated) is that I was absolutely infatuated with one of the waitresses working there. I don’t speak French, so I was pretty much dead in the water from the start, but she easily could have been a model for Suicide Girls. I am much happier in my current relationship, but this story would have less accurate if I left this detail out. As far as other culinary delights are concerned, the best part of the trip came when Dave took me to Schwartz’s for a smoked meat sandwich which can only be perfectly paired with a black cherry soda. Needless to say, I still have wet dreams about this sandwich.

Dave and I had become acquainted back in February of 2012 when he first had me as a guest on his weekly radio show The Kaufman Show on TSN 990 in Montreal. During my time in the Fan Cave I became his weekly correspondent after we finally met in person when he had paid a visit to New York to catch Bruce Springsteen in concert, a detail that will be brought up again in a not-too-distant post. Our mutual love and sadness for the Expos is what brought us together in the first place and it is definitely what motivated me to go up and visit him. 

It took a few days, but we finally made it out to the Big O sometime around midnight on a week night. I wasn’t in any kind of rush, it’s not like it was going anywhere…

Sort of. I found this chunk lying on the ground and definitely held onto it. I had never felt compelled to ever want a piece of a stadium, but I knew this one would carry a lot of significance based on the fact that I never had a chance to see the Expos play inside. Most of our experience that night I wrote about on February 16th for my Gary Carter tribute piece, but what I may have left out is that in that moment, as an Expos fan, I was happiest. I had never grown up or had other friends who were Expos fans, nor could they have ever understood the loss of that team quite like Dave had. Being with someone who had gone through it all could have only been rivaled by the final Expos game played in the Big O on September 29, 2004 which ironically occurred against the Florida Marlins. Just listening to Dave’s stories about the 1994 season, Vladimir Guerrero’s bid for 40 home runs and 40 stolen bases and the moments he shared with his friends and family, good or bad, was all I needed.

One thing that Dave surprised me with (twice) was entrance and media passes to OSHEAGA, a three-day music festival that took place in Montreal. Dave had mentioned it in passing well before I got there, but I didn’t really understand how big of a deal it was until I saw the lineup: Snoop Dogg (his second appearance as Snoop Lion), The Black Keys, the Arkells, Garbage, Fun., Bloc Party, Justice, The Shins and a hell of a lot more. Like I said, three days. 

Personally, I’m not the biggest fan of going to live shows, mostly for he sake of price gouging and so many people “all up in your business;” however, since this was an outdoor event it made things way more tolerable, plus with backstage passes food and drinks are like half the price. I got thoroughly bombed on Day 2. 

One of the other really cool aspects of being up in Canada during this time period was because the Olympics had just kicked off. Having been in the US for every Olympics it was interesting to get a different take on the summer games in a different country. And yes, even in Canada things are vastly different. See, during the winter games the Canadians obviously own the US when it comes to medals, but during the summer it’s the other way around. So when the Canadians win anything (mostly bronze) it’s a huge deal. I found it to be way more fulfilling than all the years of watching in the US and how it’s almost a failure if we don’t win gold in a particular event. Not to mention, having the pleasure of Jay Onrait and Dan O’Toole as the lead anchors is hands down better than anything that the States could have put together. You can blame Dick Ebersol on the one.

Toward the end of our time together Dave and I took a leisure day and drove south down to the States to take in something that I had never had a chance to experience: the National Baseball Hall of Fame & Museum in Cooperstown, New York. 

We combed every inch of the three story building and even met up with one of the museum’s historians to set up a possible second so that we could go through the archives to check out all the Expos stuff that wasn’t on display. That meeting altogether was interesting because it ended with him saying that I should submit photos of my tattoos to get added to the collection. It’s been a year-and-a-half and I still haven’t done it. Not because I don’t want to, but because it’s not finished. After our tour we took to the street to do some shopping. I of course bought a few hats at one of my favorite shops I routinely purchase from online, Mickey’s Place.

All in all, we had a great time. There are very few people in my life who I could have shared that experience with on the same level, and Dave is certainly one of those people. 

The last days I was able to enjoy in Montreal ended on the best note possible. I made my last in studio appearance on The Kaufman Show along with Nick Dika (@NickDika), the bass player for The Arkells and Brad Ferguson (@LeftOffBase), a tour manager and sound engineer who I befriended through Dave and Nick. Brad I wrote about in my Buffalo Bisons post on June 24^th as we happened to be at the same game while I was on my New Era trip. 

Me, Dave, Brad, Nick

 

The reason why the four of us were together that night was because we were heading the US the next day to catch the Texas Rangers play the Boston Red Sox at Fenway Park, which turned out to be Nick’s and my first Fenway experience. So, like the responsible people that we are, we hit a bar and got thoroughly toasty on my final night in Canada.

As luck would have it my friend Tarn MacArthur, a graduate student at the University of Oregon from Montreal, happened to be visiting home on the same night.

Seriously, I couldn’t have had a better experience.

We packed up Dave’s car the next morning and drove over to his mother’s place to borrow her SUV for the trip. Dave and Nick were the only two driving back into Canada as Brad was catching a flight out of Boston and I was meeting up with my good friend Neil Beschle at Fenway to which I would be crashing with him in Worchester, Massachusetts for the next week. When we got to Dave’s mom’s place I helped load all of our belongings into the back while Dave talked to his mom and gave her his car keys for the duration. Before we left his mom made mention to one of us forgetting a sleeping bag; however, none of us actually had a sleeping bag so we dismissed it. Little did I know, this moment would come to bite me in the ass hard. But… that story will wait for another post.

Based on my previous two trips to Canada, this particular trip was obviously a million times better. But on a grand scale of life accomplishments, this trip ranks in the top-10. I’ve always done what I could to get out and explore the world and all the people that I met along the way to make it possible are the sole reason why my time up north was so praiseworthy. Canada has produced some fine people, and Dave and Dave are certainly two of the best I have the honor of calling my friends.

On an additional note, as long as I can make it, Dave Kaufman scored me a ticket to the second game of the Blue Jays versus the New York Mets exhibition games at Olympic Stadium. I can finally now make that dream of seeing big league baseball at the Big O a reality. Thank you so much Dave.

And now, the hat…

This cap has been a fixture of the Canadian World Baseball Classic Team since the first tournament in 2006. I had been meaning to pick it up for a number of years, but kept letting it slide until my trip to Buffalo. Derick Chartrand (@lekid26), is one of the #CrewEra13 members who was invited to Buffalo as part of the New Era Fan Appreciation event. Derick is from Montreal and had never left the country, let alone flown on an airplane until that trip. A fellow die-hard Expos fan, we became friends very fast, much like the rest of the group with one another, but with Derick we had a little bit tighter of a bond because of the Expos fanship. 

When the time came for us to go on a shopping spree in the Flagship Store I found myself a little befuddled on what caps to get with so many options to choose from. Naturally, Derick suggested the Canadian WBC cap. I didn’t have a good reason not to get it, so… I locked it up, and have very happy with the decision since. All that was left to do was come up with some numbers.

4- Pete Orr was born in Richmond Hill, Ontario, attended high school Newmarket and has the distinction of being the only player to appear on the roster for all three times Canada has played in the WBC. Orr attended Galveston Community College in Galveston, Texas and was a 39th round draft pick of the Rangers in 1998 (1187th overall), spending one year there before signing with the Atlanta Braves on July 3, 1999.

Orr spent his first professional season with Short-Season Jamestown Jammers of the New York-Penn League in 2000, hitting .242 with two homers, 15 RBIs and 40 runs scored in 69 games. He hit .233 with four homers, 23 RBIs and 38 runs scored in 92 games with the Advanced-A Myrtle Beach Pelicans of the Carolina League in 2001. In 2002 he spent most of the season with the Double-A Greenville Braves of the Southern League, hitting .249 with two homers, 36 RBIs and 36 runs scored in 89 games. He also hit .392 with eight RBIs in 17 games with Myrtle Beach. Orr spent the 2003 season with AA Greenville, batting .226 with two homers and 31 RBIs in 98 games. He was named a Southern League Baseball America AA All-Star. He established career highs in average, .320, hits, 147, doubles, 16, triples, 10, stolen bases, 24 and runs scored 69. His .320 batting average and 24 stolen bases led the AAA Richmond Braves in 2004. He was selected to play in the International League All-Star game. He was named International League April Player of the Month, posting a .381 batting average with four doubles, one triple and five RBIs. He ranked fifth in the IL and fourth among Braves Minor Leaguers in average, tied second in the IL and led Braves Minor Leaguers in triples, tied for sixth in the IL and led Braves Minor Leaguers in hits and tied for seventh among Braves Minor Leaguers in stolen bases. Orr won the Bill Lucas Award as the player who best represents the Braves organization on and off the field by the 400 Club. He was also part of Team Canada who finished in fourth place at the 2004 Summer Olympics.

Orr made his Major League debut for the Braves on April 5, 2005. He proved to be a versatile player, playing second base, third base, and various outfield positions during the 2005 season. Orr was optioned to AAA Richmond on July 5, 2007, when the Braves called up Jo-Jo Reyes from Triple-A Richmond to make his Major League debut. He was brought up again on August 27. He was designated for assignment by the Braves on November 20, 2007, and was released on November 28, 2007.

In December 2007, Orr signed a minor league contract with the Washington Nationals and on June 21, 2008, his contract was selected by the Nationals along with right-handed pitcher Steven Shell. On October 30, 2008, Orr rejected his assignment to AAA and became a free agent. However, he returned to the team two weeks later, signing a minor league deal, playing with the Syracuse Chiefs in the International League, with a chance to earn a spot on the team in the spring.

On November 11, 2010, Orr signed with the Philadelphia Phillies. During spring training play, he led the major leagues in triples, with 5, subsequently becoming a member of the team's Opening Day roster. After spending the 2011 season with both the Phillies and the Lehigh Valley IronPigs, their AAA affiliate, he became a free agent on October 18. On November 3, Orr re-signed a minor league contract with the Phillies, receiving an invite to spring training. He was again included on the team's Opening Day roster at the onset of the 2012 season.

11- Arguably one of the greatest names in baseball history, Stubby Clapp is a hitting coach with the Advanced-A Dunedin Blue Jays and is a former player who was a member of the 2006 and 2009 WBC teams and the 2004 Olympic team. He played for 11 years, most notably within the St. Louis Cardinals organization, including a brief stint in the Majors with the Cardinals. In his native Canada, he is best remembered for his performance at the 1999 Pan American Games in Winnipeg, where he slapped a bases-loaded single in the 11th inning to beat a more experienced U.S. team and put Canada in the semifinals. Canada eventually won bronze medal. Clapp graduated from Texas Tech University, where he played for the Red Raiders baseball team. He still holds (or shares) the Red Raiders' records for triples in a season (eight), runs in game (five, three times), strikeouts in a game (four) and walks in a season (66), both set during the 1996 season. He was drafted by the Cardinals in the 36th round (1,058th overall) of 1996 amateur entry draft. In 1998, when playing for the AA Arkansas Travelers he led the league with 86 walks and 139 games played. He remains popular among Travelers fans to this day.

In 2000, he led the AAA Memphis Redbirds with 138 hits, 89 runs, 80 walks, eight triples, and six sacrifice hits. He became a popular figure in the City of Memphis during his four-year stint (1999-2002). He was often referred to as the "Mayor of Memphis." During the 2002 season, the 5-foot-8 Clapp was featured on a growth chart for kids, sponsored by a Memphis-area medical group. In 2009, he was named one of the Memphis "Athletes of the Decade." In 2010, the club had "Ode to Clapping Night," which included giving away Clapp bobbleheads. In 911 minor league games, Clapp had a .270 batting average, 48 home runs, 50 triples, 196 doubles, 365 RBI, and 83 steals. Clapp also pitched in three games. In 2.1 innings, Clapp has given up two hits and no earned runs.

His Major League career only lasted 23 games for the Cardinals in 2001 in which he hit right at the Mendoza line (.200) with five hits total, two of which were doubles and he only batted in one run. On April 21, 2007, Clapp's jersey #10 was the first number ever retired by the Redbirds. This is commemorated by a painted "10" on the wall above the Redbirds' bullpen at AutoZone Park. He is second all-time for the Memphis Redbirds for games played (425) and hits (418).

Clapp began his coaching career as a hitting coach for the Lexington Legends, the Houston Astros Class-A team in the South Atlantic League. He came out of retirement to represent Canada at the 2008 Beijing Olympics. In November 2010, Clapp became the hitting coach for the Corpus Christi Hooks, Houston's AA affiliate and then managed the Tri-City ValleyCats, another Class-A affiliate of the Astros, during the 2011 and 2012 seasons before taking his current position in Dunedin in January of 2013.

12- If I had to make an assertion on who the greatest Canadian baseball player of all-time is, you better believe that 10 times out of 10 I’m rolling with Matt Stairs.

Growing up in Fredericton, New Brunswick, Stairs showed athletic ability at an early age, playing Beaver League baseball a year before his age eligibility and excelling in hockey. After playing Bantam & Midget baseball, at age 16 and 17, he played for the local Marysville Royals of the New Brunswick Senior Baseball League and was voted "Rookie of The Year" in 1984 and the league's Most Valuable Player in 1985. He was also named Nova Scotia Senior Baseball League MVP in 1987 and '88 while playing for the Fredericton Schooners. He attended the National Baseball Institute (NBI) in Vancouver, British Columbia for one year and played for Canada at the 1987 World Amateur Championships in Italy where he was named to the "World All-Star" team. In 1988, he joined the Canadian Junior National team after graduating from Fredericton High School. From there he went on to play for the Canadian Olympic Team at the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul, South Korea. On January 17, 1989, Stairs was signed as an international free agent by the Expos.

Stairs, in all fairness, was a bit of a journeyman. In fact, he holds the record for most teams played for as a position player at 12, but technically 13 as he played for the Expos and the Nationals at different stages of his career. Octavio Dotel holds the record for pitchers at 13 as well. For 19 seasons Stairs “turned many cloaks” with the Expos (1992-1993), Chunichi Dragons of the Japanese League (1994), Red Sox (1995), Athletics (1996-2000), Chicago Cubs (2001), Milwaukee Brewers (2002), Pittsburgh Pirates (2003), Kansas City Royals (2004-2006), Rangers (2006), Tigers (2006), Blue Jays (2007-2008), Phillies (2008-2009), San Diego Padres (2010) and the Nationals (2011). 

I’ll be honest, I don’t remember too much from his time with the Expos as I was nine and 10-years-old, but I’ll never forget him crushing dingers with the Athletics. His longest stint with any team happened to come in Oakland when he played in 632 games in five seasons. He hit .268 with 122 home runs and 385 RBI. Tow of those seasons (1998 and 1999) featured him hitting 26 home runs and 106 RBI and 38 home runs with 102 RBI respectively. Both the top home runs and RBI totals are career highs. Stairs finished 17^th overall for the American League MVP in 1999. In his July 5, 1996 debut with Oakland, Stairs tied a major league record with six runs batted in during one inning. That first inning performance included a grand slam and a two-run single. This was subsequently broken by Fernando Tatis on April 23, 1999. The only reason why Stairs never stayed with the Athletics is due to cost-cutting. I know, nothing about that is surprising. What is fortunate for Stairs is that he eventually bounced around to a team at the most ideal time, the Phillies in 2008 when they won the World Series. It would be the only time that Stairs would get a ring let alone be on a team in the World Series.

When he retired in 2011 he had a .263 average, 265 home runs and 897 RBI and a World Series and the record for most pinch hit home runs (23) to his name. He was also a member of the 2006 and 2009 World Baseball Classic team, one of only a small handful of guys to be on multiple teams on top of having played in the Olympics in 1988. Noted baseball analysts Bill James and Joe Posnanski have theorized that Stairs is probably a far more talented hitter than his career stats suggest. Stairs didn't have 500 plate appearances until age 29, at which point he recorded 100 RBI seasons and an adjusted OPS of over 130 two years in a row- and never saw 500 at-bats again. James contends, "You put him in the right park, right position early in his career ... he's going to hit a LOT of bombs." Possibly, Posnanski contends, enough to be have been worthy of Hall of Fame consideration.

August 6- Boston Red Sox

To get a full understanding of how important this cap and its marking are, I have to flashback 18 years to when I was a sixth grader in Mrs. Costello’s class at Discovery Elementary School in Bakersfield, California. Prior to my 12^th birthday in February of 1995 my collection of sports memorabilia was actually pretty pathetic. Outside of collecting baseball cards since 1987, I really didn’t have anything as far as professional team hats or shirts to gallivant around town in. I kept things pretty simple, sporting brands like Stussy and a lot of graphic t-shirts with likes of Bart Simpson or the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles affixed to the front. Back then my interest were starting to evolve as well due to the fact that the Major League Baseball season was a bit of a question mark as the labor negotiations were still taking place. Since it was winter, I did what any other kid my age would have done; watch more basketball.

Around the time I started getting into baseball (October 1986) I had begun to develop a bit of a kinship for basketball. Who could blame me? The baseball season had just ended with the New York Mets defeating the Boston Red Sox in the World Series and my tiny little brain was starting to become interested in things other than Sesame Street and Marvel super heroes. But unlike most fans whose love for the game starts at the professional level, mine began in college. More specifically, it started with Reggie Miller and the UCLA Bruins. 

Reggie hadn’t become the trash-talking, heart-breaking, three-point assassin we all know him as today. Back then he was just a scoring machine with the most dominant college basketball program in the history of the NCAA. When it came time for him to move to the next level and enter the NBA Draft in 1987, my allegiance to Reggie continued as the Indiana Pacers drafted him with the 11^th overall pick. From then on my time was perfectly divided baseball and basketball started and ended at the opposite ends of one another, thus creating a perfect balance in my sports-loving life. Baseball was still #1 in my eyes, but like I mentioned above, it took a back seat for a bit after the players strike of 1994. With the rest of the season cancelled, including the postseason, my interest went back to the hardwood, and the timing couldn’t have been better. Reggie and the Pacers were having a great year, UCLA was having a great year and on March 18^th a press release was sent out by Michael Jordan with only two words attached to it, “I’m back.” Not only was Jordan back, but the competitive fire throughout the National Basketball Association was back, and it just so happened that his first game donning the 345 would take place against my Pacers at Market Square Arena. Jordan scored 19, Reggie scored 28. A little over two weeks later the UCLA Bruins captured their 11^th NCAA title, the first without John Wooden at the helm. Even though the MLB season was just about to get underway after a new collective bargaining agreement had been put in place, my mind was too far gone. Basketball had me right where they wanted me. It even teased me in May when Reggie went off for 8 points in 8.9 seconds during a playoff game against the New York Knicks. 

But alas, the Pacers were eventually knocked out of the playoffs and I sought comfort again in the national game. But before I did, I picked up the first of many relics in my sports memorabilia collection, a Grant Hill rookie jersey.

Now, I realize that last sentence makes absolutely no sense to the rest of the story, but I assure you it will. See, one day I was out shopping with my parents at Valley Plaza Mall in Bakersfield and I decided to go browsing on my own, starting with my favorite store in the mall called Jerry’s Dugout. I had about $50 on me at the time and I was definitely in the market for a jersey. Unfortunately for me, they didn’t have any Reggie jerseys so I went with the next best thing, the co-Rookie of the Year from that season. Due to the fact that Champion NBA jerseys back then cost $40 apiece, it took me another three months to finally get the money together to finally add Reggie to my collection… after I picked up Anfernee Hardaway and Jason Kidd first. Oops! But in all fairness to Hill, I had idolized him and Christian Laettner during their days at Duke, so I was more than happy to make him my “first round draft pick of sorts” when it came to my inevitable jersey-buying habit, but what I wasn’t expecting is how that jersey putting me on the right path for the rest of my life.

Three years would pass and my baseball love had been fully restored thanks to some kid from Whittier, California, but I’ll get to that in a moment. My jersey collection had gotten pretty respectable when I entered my sophomore year of high school, the same year in which I had started to realize that my love of writing about sports was overtaking my love of playing them. The varsity basketball coach at my high school wasn’t my biggest supporter despite thee fact that I was clearly one of the better players in the school, but my personal struggles at home between my father and me had spilled over onto the court. As much as I take responsibility for not seeking help to handle my grief, the coach was also responsible for never giving me a chance by labeling me a hot head, rather than actually figure out what the problem was. Without the school team to play on during the winter, I spent a lot of time just watching games, analyzing them and bettering my writing talent as I write for the school newspaper. Mr. Anderson, the teacher in charge on the production of the paper, had begun letting me write my own sports opinion columns which ended up being the first real incarnation of what I’m doing today. I was never hateful in my rants, but I definitely gave perspectives on athletes and their on-court/off-court habits that most 15-year-olds weren’t really expected to touch in a high school newspaper. One article in particular centered around fighting on the playing field/court and the influences the athletes in question have on the kids who watch and idolize them. For a 15-year-old to take on this subject it’s kind of humorous because “what does a kid really know about psychology, let alone what a professional athlete’s opinion on the matter would be?” Rather than staring at a wall to solve this question, I hit the road with my father to Indianapolis as he had gotten tickets for two Pacers games on back-to-back nights against the Detroit Pistons and Charlotte Hornets for my upcoming 16^th birthday. While most kids waltzed down to court level to try and get autographs from the players, I asked questions. Based on the time of the pre-game shoot around the Pistons took the court first and very few people were around to get autographs. As Hill wrapped up his session I asked if he would mind giving me three minutes to answer a few questions for thee article I was writing for my school paper. As I write this it all sounds so dumb, but in reality I admire the balls the younger version of me had. Not only did he give my five minutes to talk, he got Laettner to sit down as well and Hill ended up signing that first jersey I ever purchased as it I happened to have it in my backpack. My only regret from that moment was that I didn’t have my Laettner jersey on me, a thought that didn’t click in until my dad and I got back to Bakersfield. After my sit down with those two I headed over to the Pacers’ side and was given the same courtesy my point guard and former-Georgia Tech star Travis Best. I didn’t have any credentials, but that really didn’t seem to matter. All three of them get hounded by the press before and after every game and I highly doubt that very many kids had ever bothered to take on such an adult task. It may not seem like much, but that was the moment when I knew I had a gift. I’m still not sure if it is necessarily a gift for writing, but I most certainly have a talent for getting the interview, no matter how big or how small the story is. This takes me to the summer of 2000…

I was 17-years-old, working two jobs in between my junior and senior year of high school. My main job was that I was in my send year as the bat boy for the advanced-A Bakersfield Blaze, but my other job was as an umpire and scorekeeper for the youth baseball league run by the North of the River Recreation Department. This was the third year in which I held these positions, and they were definitely some of the most fun/rewarding jobs I’ve ever held. Three days a week I worked anywhere between two and three games, alternating my duties with whomever my partner was. On an especially hot day in June I had brought along a new all-baseball shopping magazine that my father had come across. Most of jersey ordering had come via catalog shopping, and since I had moved into collecting New Era caps two years prior, my dad thought I would enjoy it. He was right. In between games and whenever I had free time I coveted that magazine like as if I had boosted my mom’s Victoria’s Secret catalog. I wanted everything, but I was also a realist about what I would continue to wear as I got older. Of all the wares available with a phone call and a credit card the first, and only thing I bought was a home Red Sox jersey. The one thing I should point out with this purchase is that it was the first MLB-related jersey and/or shirt I ever purchased. This is an important detail because I was born and raised an Oakland Athletics fan. To be honest, I did have every Athletics jersey circled, but this jersey popped out. In fact, I still own it and wear it today.

I really don’t have much of a reason as to why I didn’t buy anything else from that magazine. I had the money to do it. I guess I just forgot. The one item I did have queued up and ready to go was the Red Sox cap that’s sitting on top of my head above. It would be 13 more years before I finally found and added this cap to my collection. I guess now is the time to explain why I took you on this journey.

The NBA, more specifically, Reggie Miller had taken the front seat in my love affair with sports, but baseball was certain on the wane. The Athletics were at a low point as then-manager Tony LaRussa had jumped ship along with pitching coach Dave Duncan to the St. Louis Cardinals, my most-hated team. I needed something good to help get me back into the game. That something came in the form of an up-and-coming rookie shortstop in 1996 by the name of Nomar Garciaparra. 

 Glamour shots!!!

Nomar grew up, as I mentioned above, in Whittier, California roughly 130 miles south of Bakersfield. His name first came to my attention in the early 1990s when he was originally drafted by the Milwaukee Brewers in the fifth round of the 1991 amateur draft, but he elected to go to college at Georgia Tech, the same place as future Red Sox teammate Jason Varitek and Travis Best, despite the fact that he had been offered a full-ride scholarship to UCLA as well. Nomar’s star took off immediately. In 1992 he was a member of the USA Olympic Baseball Team in Barcelona, Spain.

He even walked on as a kicker for the football team for a brief period of time in 1993, but 1994 proved to be the biggest year for the Yellow Jackets as they reached the College World Series title game, losing to the University of Oklahoma 13-5. Nomar and Varitek had done almost everything together; they played on the Olympic team together, in the Cape Cod League during the 1993 offseason together and they were both drafted in the first round one pick apart from one another (Nomar at 12^th and Varitek at 14^th). The only difference was that Varitek had graduated while Nomar left at the end of his junior year as the $895,000 signing bonus offered to him by the Red Sox was too hard to turn down. 

I did what I could to follow Nomar through the ranks of the minor league system, but it was next to impossible without the aid of the internet; funny how times have changed. Nomar took to the professional game like a duck to water, lighting it up on both sides of the ball in two-and-a-half seasons. With September call-ups just around the corner and Nomar hitting .343 with the AAA Pawtucket Red Sox, he was brought up a few days early and made his debut on August 31^st as the Red Sox were in the midst of a battle for the American league Wild Card spot. As fate would have it Nomar’s first game came against my Athletics in which he went 0-1 as a pinch hitter for then-second baseman Jeff Frye. But the next day Nomar was penciled in as the starting shortstop which turned out to be a controversial move for then-manager Kevin Kennedy as John Valentin had been serving as the team’s full-time shortstop since 1992 and especially after his top-10 finish in the AL MVP vote the previous season. Nonetheless, Kennedy gave Nomar the field and made Valentin the designated hitter. Valentin went 1-5 with a RBI triple in the three spot while Nomar went 3-5 with a solo home run, two runs and scored and two RBI. It wasn’t long before the Fenway Faithful took a shine to the kid with the funny name.

Due to the fact that my mother has been a life-long Red Sox fan I found my affinity for Nomar to be an easy transition. Everything about the way he moved on the field, adjusted his batting gloves in between pitches and the way he conducted himself in public and with the media personified everything that was good and just about the game. Anytime the Red Sox games were broadcasted, I watched. Anytime they played the Athletics I did my best to make it up north for a game or two in the series. Every so often a special player comes into the league who makes it next to impossible to not root for, even New York Yankees fans have to admit this. He is the sole reason why I made that Red Sox jersey my first purchase. He is the reason why I searched so hard for this cap.

Unless you were a fan of the Red Sox in 1999 or an avid cap collector like myself, you probably don’t remember seeing these on the field. This was one of two alternate caps worn that season, the other having all-white panels, a navy blue bill and a red “B” logo. 

Not only is it incredibly hard to find one for sale, it’s twice as hard to find any history about it. Based on what I’ve been able to uncover the few Web sites and dealers who are selling this cap have it labeled as either the “1999 alternate” or the “1999-2000 alt” as shown by the sticker still affixed to the cap.

What I’ve been able to find is that the Red Sox only used it for a handful of games, but not in 1999. This bit I found courtesy of Uni-Watch; however, according to the write-up by Paul Lukas in 2007, the Red Sox never wore it again after 1997. So why does everyone believe it was used in 1999 and 2000? Well, back in 1999 New Era introduced the mesh batting practice caps. The first edition was used in 1999 and 2000 and featured the same color combination as the 1997 alternate cap.

What I find truly astonishing and coincidental is that Nomar’s three best years came in 1997, 1999 and 2000.

In 1997, Nomar’s first full season, he played in 153 games and took the Rookie of the Year honors, made his first All-Star Game appearance, won his first Silver Slugger Award and finished eighth for the AL MVP by hitting .306 with league-highs in hits (209) and triples (11) as well as 30 home runs, 98 RBI and 22 stolen bases. In 1999 and 2000 he made the All-Star team, but more importantly he won back-to-back batting titles, going .357 and .372 respectively. He also finished in the top-10 for the AL MVP in those seasons as well. Nomar played nine amazing seasons in Boston. He hit .323 with 178 home runs and 690 RBI, but sadly never won a Gold Glove thanks to Omar Vizquel (1993-2001), Alex Rodriguez (2002-2003) and some clown named Derek Jeter (2004-2006). On July 31, 2004 Nomar was traded to the Chicago Cubs as part of a four-team deal which brought Orlando Cabrera and Doug Mientkiewicz to Boston. When the deal was made every joyous feeling I ever had for the Red Sox was turned to anger. Nomar was the face of the franchise, the guy whose name was shouted by Jimmy Fallon every weekend on Saturday Night Live (NO-MAH!!!). Even though he had taken the field for the Sox that season, Nomar was not on the field when it counted, hoisting the Commissioner’s Trophy at the end of the World Series. I was happy that Nomar got a ring the following season, but everything about the rest of his career felt out of place.

From 2005-2009 Nomar battled with injuries, but made his sixth, and final All-Star Game appearance in 2006 as well as a 13^th place finished for the National League MVP in his first of three years with the Los Angeles Dodgers. In 2009 he signed a contract for one season with my Athletics and I was fortunate enough to catch him in two games at the Coliseum, both of which happened to come in early April against the Red Sox. Nomar was granted free agency at the end of the season He signed a one-day contract in 2010 with the Red Sox, only to be able to officially retire as a member of the Red Sox.

While I identify completely with all the players who have ever donned the green and gold for the Athletics, I have, and will always have a spot in my heart for Nomar. Even though I played second base for all of my life, I played it with the same intensity and guile as the man who wore #5 for the Sox. I certainly wasn’t as fidgety at the plate, but I still swung the bat as if I was catching a glimpse of the Green Monster out of the corner of my left eye. Despite the fact that I never played ball beyond high school, one of my dreams was to one day shake hands and meet the man who restored my love in baseball. On May 8, 2012, my dream came true.

I was a little over a month into my time at the MLB Fan Cave when we got the word that a few of the members of the Baseball Tonight crew were going to be stopping by. It was already a jam packed day as David Price, Sean Rodriguez and James Shields from the Tampa Bay Rays were slated to stop by in the morning, but I’ll get to that story in another post. What I wasn’t expecting in between meeting both crews was that I was going to be taken down to the basement to be interrogated for an incident that had broken out between Cardinals’ representative Kyle Thompson and me from a few days before. It was by far one of the most humiliating experiences of my life as I was put into a corner by the executives despite the fact that our issue had already been resolved internally. For some reason “someone” had decided to rat me out for that and a bevy of other things that weren’t true. Nonetheless, when I went back upstairs to meet our guests I wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind. All I could think about was that I was going to be asked to pack up my things and go home. That moment wouldn’t come for a few more weeks. I did what I could to prepare myself. I had packed my Nomar player-T that I’ve had since I was 18-years-old and my home Athletics cap as Pedro Gomez, Mark Mulder and Nomar were the three that were stopping by. As they walked up to the front door I froze. My stomach started churning and I did whatever I could to keep from breaking down. This moment was way too important for me to let my emotions get the better of me.

The other eight Cave Dwellers and a few of the executives were the first to greet them. I hung back for a little bit, waiting to find the perfect time to step in and transition my emotion into something more positive. It took  a little bit, but Mulder and Nomar spotted me in front of the Cave Monster (the 15 TV display) and struck up a conversation based on the shirt and hat combination I was wearing. Nomar was pretty stoked that I was rocking his shirt, but Mulder was a little confused about why I was wearing an Athletics cap with it. I explained to him that I was first, and foremost an Athletics fan and that I wore because of the years that he spent with the team. I also made sure to mention that Nomar spent 2009 with the club without trying to sound like a jerk. He chuckled and then the two asked me about what it’s like being a Cave Dweller. I don’t remember the exact wording my Mulder, but somehow the topic of tattoos was brought up. It was intended to be a joke, like in the sense that he said, “Well at least you don’t have any tattoos” for my team. I turned my head to Nomar and then back and said, “I actually do have an A’s tattoo.” He responded, “Really?” I then looked back at Nomar and said, “I actually have a Red Sox tattoo as well.” “Yeah right,” joked Nomar. I then came back with, “No seriously, I honestly have every MLB team tattooed on my body.” Mulder and Nomar looked at one another, both with “yeah right” expressions on their face before Mulder said, “You have to prove this.” As I was propping my shirt up to show off the AL side one of the public relations executives, Jeff Heckelman, grabbed Gomez and said, “Pedro, you have to see this.” And then this happened…

There’s a reason why the expression ‘”a picture says a thousand words” exists, and this is one of those photos that brings me the most joy from my time in New York. All the troubles from before their arrival vanished, and I was finally myself again. One thing I did take away from this photo is that I had let myself go health-wise and cut out a lot of the junk food I had been chowing down on during my days of sitting around and watching baseball for 12-14 hours a day. I was stoked that all three were cool about the ink work, as that is something that also makes me a little bit nervous before I show it off to anyone who actually has a job in baseball.

The rest of the time they were there they spent answering a few questions for the Facebook page, shooting a few segments for that night’s show and Nomar even gave Yankees fan Eddie Mata a few pointers on how to accurately capture his approach to the plate. It was during this time that one of the members of the Fan Cave production crew, a Red Sox fan named Brad, came up to me and asked me how I was handling all of this. By “all of this” he meant the visit by Nomar. At the time I didn’t realize how loud I was talking, but one of the producers from Baseball Tonight overheard what I said, “This is unreal. Nomar is one of the top-three guys within baseball I have ever wanted to meet. It’s a crazy dream that has come true.” Unfortunately I don’t remember the name of the producer from Baseball Tonight, but he pulled me aside and asked if he could interview me for the show. Naturally, I was all about it. Here’s the interview.

Not too long after we wrapped up it was time for them to go. I made sure to stop and thank each person for their time, not really expecting to run into any of them ever again, unless I somehow got a job with ESPN. As it turned out, I ran into Gomez two more times before the end of the season during my cross-country baseball road trip. As for Mulder and Nomar, I wished them both best, but for Nomar I put a little bit more emphasis on how much of an honor it was to meet him. Like my moment in the seats of Market Square Arena with Hill and Laettner, the few moments I was able to spend talking baseball with Nomar was a crowning achievement in my journey to break in as a professional sports writer. No matter what meets me on my path of success, I can always check that one off of my list.

.357/.372- When it came to marking this cap up I couldn’t think anything more fitting than the two averages that Nomar posted in 1999 and 2000 when he won his batting crowns. Had I not spent so much time on the build up to the conclusion I probably would have given love to Pedro Martinez for his back-to-back AL Cy Young Award wins in the same years, but those are the breaks. Perhaps if I’m able to track down the actual mesh batting practice cap I’ll be able to out it together. Until then, it’s on to the next post.