Free baseball!
So recently, the Padres had an extra-innings game on a night when I was clearly delirious and sleep-deprived. Here’s how it went:
The Padres are going into extra innings. Oy vey!
In between innings, I’ll take a little nap.
Uh-oh. Security was NOT happy about my snooze.
Inning Twelve. Catcher John Baker is on second base! Meditating.
The game is over after 13 innings! The Padres WIN! Yeah!
My bad.
Soooo … I was so amped to start this blog, and I did well in the beginning, and then BAM! A whirlwind of work hit, and I slacked off.
Booooo. Buddy Black would have kicked me out of the clubhouse already. Norv Turner would have thrown me off the field.
But, I’m back, and I’ll get this thing updated on a regular basis. I just got a little sidetracked this last month, with the Padres starting their season, the Chargers starting voluntary workouts, the Draft, the suicide of Junior Seau, doing some work for Fox Sports San Diego (see picture below) and a case of the freakin’ hives that lasted for weeks. That last one was the worst. I have pictures of it but they might make you vomit, so no link for those.
Here’s a few thoughts:
The Padres are struggling, absolutely. They show shades of excellence (so you know they CAN do it) but it’s muted by their inability to get pitching, fielding and hitting on the same page consistently. Really, it’s muted by errors and injuries. Lots of them. … I wouldn’t count the team out yet. Stop rolling your eyes! … Regardless, it’s been fun to get to know some of the new players, like Yonder Alonso, and talk to injured players about getting back in the game.
I try to get to Petco early, and I always relish moments like these:
Bliss.
The suicide of Junior Seau was unbelievable. Not only the shock of the news, but the magnitude of how far it reached. So many players — former and current — paid their respects and talked about how Junior had impacted their lives. And it’s crazy, because we’re all so used to seeing football players as gladiators — they don’t really break down — so this was a reminder that hey … they are HUMAN. I saw former Chargers long snapper Dave Binn in the elevator at Qualcomm before Seau’s “Celebration of Life” and he looked at me and said, with the saddest eyes: “It’s been a long, rough week.” And you just FELT it.
The Chargers have started their voluntary workouts. Last year there was the lockout, and I forgot just how much they DO before training camp. It’s been fun to be back on the field at Chargers Park, to see veterans mingling with rookies and trash talking and what not. Plennnttyyyyy of videos to come from there in the near future. 🙂
That’s it for now. Really, I’ll be better at this. For reals. You believe me, right?
Mojo and March Madness
Most people, when talking about the Padres and their struggles last season, mention that elusive word: Chemistry.
Chemistry, like mixing two liquids in science class and getting a gas. Chemistry, like that thing I hear two people have sometimes when they are on a date. Or DON’T have (See: “Woman fakes illness and exits date during middle of dinner”).
Chemistry is an intangible, and you either got it or you don’t. Clubhouse swag, if you will. Mojo.
We don’t know if the Padres will find it or not this season, but any manager will tell you it helps. A lot. It’s usually paired with winning, and I think it’s a chicken or egg situation … Does the chemistry come first, then the winning? Or vice versa?
In the short time I’ve been at Spring Training, I’ve felt it. Swag. It’s not loud or egotistical or pretentious. It’s quiet, comfortable in its own skin.
Buddy Black does a lot during the club’s time in Peoria to encourage camaraderie. During the team’s morning meetings, he introduces new players by sharing something that most teammates wouldn’t know (like the fact that the player used to dress up for rodeos or be on his high school dance team or WHATEVER). He also is part of the annual basketball shoot-out, a tournament-style competition (a la “March Madness) between coaches and players.
Lest any of you tweet or Facebook me and say something silly like, “These players should be in the batting cages instead of on the basketball court,” … Sit down, take a deep breath, hit yourself in the head once and RELAX. This happens before practice starts and doesn’t cripple the team — it builds it.
Today, the tournament came down to two teams: The starting pitchers against the coaching staff. To see who won, scroll to the bottom.
Enjoy the pics!
Okay, so this one was taken yesterday, when the teams were still being whittled down. I love this shot. Remember — Will Venable played basketball for Princeton University. Cory Luebke was a hoops star in high school (along with baseball and football).
The players don’t really “defend” … they sorta stand there and raise their arms (c’mon, no one wants to get hurt). What they DO do is distract. Mark Kotsay is mostly in charge of this. Here he is with a leaf blower, which he aims at players as they take their shot.
Then there’s the bullhorn. Self-explanatory.
But nothing compares to the truck. I don’t know who the truck belongs to, but I can tell you it has a horn on it that is unlike any horn I’ve ever heard. My ears are STILL ringing from it 10 hours later. Big Truck Must Have Loud Noise, I guess. Anyways, it gets blasted whenever a player is about to shoot.
The only time there is silence is when Buddy has the ball. If the Skipper is shooting, there are no horns, no leaf blowers, nothing. Just respect.
Teammates watching the game held face signs, just like this Dave Roberts one.
So who won? The starting pitchers. Cheers to Joe Wieland, Tim Stauffer, Corey Luebke, and Dustin Moseley!
Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho, Back To Peoria I Go …
So here I am, back in Peoria, for Round Two of my Spring Training adventure.
Ahh, Peoria. Thank you for not closing down any of your 3,927 chain restaurants and shops. Thank you for driving up prices in hotels near the Peoria Sports Complex, so that I have to stay in a seedy neighborhood in a shady part of Phoenix where some dude asked me if I wanted to see his knife while I was pumping gas at a nearby station. Thank you for making your stoplights into a Russian Roulette game. And thank you for being sticky icky hot, so that I’m sweaty and wondering if I smell or have makeup running down my face or hair sticking to the back of my neck.
But I digress.
No, really … I like Peoria. I do. I like Spring Training. I like the drive on 8 East to get here (just me, my music, my random thoughts and usually an obscene gesture from a trucker at some point) … I LOVE being at the complex, because it’s pretty and fresh and it’s just a bunch of guys playing baseball. It’s awesome. Honestly, if you’ve never been here but you like baseball even REMOTELY, you need to make it out next year. You’ll love it. I feel like it’s the way the sport is meant to be — just a bunch of fellas out on the grass, playing the game they love. The clubhouse is happy, the coaches are happy, the fans are happy.
It’s a hopeful time. I’m a fan of hope.
I like this group of Padres. There is character, there is scrappyness, there is a blending of old traditions and new Mojo. I dig it. You’ve got Mark Kotsay organizing some player bonding time, you’ve got Tim Stauffer pranking Huston Street, you’ve got new catcher John Baker getting into intelligent debates with Carlos Quentin. Like I said … character.
Oh, and they can play a little, too.
While we know Spring Training games are “meaningless”, it’s still worth pointing out that the Padres won 12 of their last 15 games before being blanked today by Chicago. It’s important because of MOMENTUM. I like momentum. I’m a fan of momentum. When I’m shopping, and I find three or four cute things, it gives me the momentum to keep going and find some more. And that’s always fun.
Again, I digress.
Will Venable told me this morning that while he doesn’t like to look back, he remembers Spring Training of 2010, the Spring Training before the season in which the Padres went 90-72 and placed second in the NL West. He said the team won a lot of consecutive games during Spring Training 2010, and that got things rolling for the season. In 2011, the team never got it going during their time in Peoria, and never got it going during the regular season either. So again … Spring Training wins are good for confidence, for camaraderie, and (say it with me now) for momentum. FEELING what it feels like to WIN. (Something I don’t do a whole lot, but I hear it’s awesome. Just ask Charlie Sheen.)
Since we’re talking about Venable, let’s point out how he got two more hits against the Cubs today and raised his batting average to .372, the best on the team. He told me he fixed a few mechanics and feels a lot more control at the plate right now, and also said working with new Padres hitting coach Phil Plantier has helped. Plantier focuses on the positive, Venable said, and when he encourages players to concentrate on the things they do RIGHT, it’s easier to form and maintain good habits. We all need a little Phil in our lives, dontcha think? (By the way, during Round One of Spring Training, Plantier and I talked hitting.)
Lots more to come this week. I’ve got come cool photos and videos, but my internet connection at Hotel Shady is not the best, so it’ll wait for now. I can feel you all on the edge of your seats. Simmer, simmer. Patience.
Spring Training Sights
View from the Press Box during the Padres-Mariners charity game.
One of the best things about Spring Training are the mornings. They are so crisp, so fresh in Peoria, and this year, it seemed like the grass was greener … Cause it was. Arizona got more rain, which meant prettier fields. It’s such a cool, relaxing feeling.
Balls. Everywhere.
Jonathan Galvez getting his hair cut by a barber that Cam Maybin brought to Spring Training. More on that later.
One of the reasons I enjoy reliever Andrew Cashner.
This is what I do for kicks during Spring Training.
This is another thing I do. I bought these during my stay. They were calling my name. It’s an exciting life I lead, huh?
Nick Hundley’s locker. Every season, the players compete in fantasy football. Former eighth-inning specialist Mike Adams started the trophy tradition. Hundley (and pitching coach Darren Balsley) were the 2011 winners.
The starting lineup for the second Spring Training game.
Ok — normally these two rows are EMPTY in the press box. But during the Mariners games, there is a contingency of Japanese press there for Ichiro Suzuki and Hisashi Iwakuma. As soon as those two are out of the game, the Japanese press disappears too.
Me after a ridiculously long drive to Peoria, in which my phone had a hardware malfunction in the middle of the desert and wouldn’t turn on. I lost everything — all my contacts and self-proclaimed wonderful photos of mountains and such that I had taken on the drive up. Anyways, I used a payphone at a rest stop in the desert three times. THAT’s kinda cool, right? Then I went to a Sprint store in PHX, where the employee took one look at my phone and proclaimed, “You’re screwed.” … ‘Nuff said.
Killer Cam and the Dougie
Okay, here’s one difference between the Chargers’ locker room and the Padres’ clubhouse: You are allowed to shoot video in the Padres’ clubhouse. You are NOT allowed to do this with the Chargers.
Being able to shoot video means you get to witness awesome little moments like this:
This is Cameron Maybin’s son, Trent. He has more swag in his pinky than I will ever have in my lifetime.
Note the matching hair, too.
What’s the Diel, Man?
As Kevin Acee so eloquently wrote in today’s edition of the Union-Tribune, Chargers left guard Kris Dielman is a nasty, ferocious player who sincerely loves the game of football. He hits. HARD. He has a foul mouth and fire in his eyes when he takes the field. He won’t let the team’s equipment managers touch up his helmet between games because he likes to show off the scuff marks from collisions.
And he is one of the nicest players I’ve ever met.
Now he is retiring, forced to trade in football for a future with his family after suffering a concussion in October while playing against the New York Jets. The concussion was later followed by a seizure, then by a spot on the Injured Reserve list before arriving here, to retirement, after consulting with many doctors about how much more his body — more appropriately, his brain — can take.
Kris is a deceiving man. The guy looks like someone who would kill your cat — and if your cat ran across the football field during a game, he probably would — but off the field, he is kind, funny and the sort of person who would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it or fix your tire if it was flat. Kris and I didn’t talk much my first year on the beat (like most of the offensive line, he’s not really a “video” guy) but over the last few years, we chatted about everything from our love of East County dive bars to NASCAR to his desire for privacy to his father, who served in the Army.
But what I liked MOST about Kris was his honesty and sincerity.
Here’s the thing — When I ask an athlete to be part of a video story or interview, they usually respond in one of four ways:
- They say “Yes” and they follow through;
- They say “Yes” but they mean “No” and spend the rest of the season trying to hide from you and/or barely talk to you;
- They say “No” and spend the rest of the season trying to hide from you and/or barely talk to you so you don’t ask for more stuff;
- They say “No” and still treat you like you are human. They OWN the “No” but respect that you’re doing your job.
The first and last category are the most rare, but that’s where Kris fits, as does his buddy Nick Hardwick. Kris and Nick would turn me down 9 out of 10 times, but they would always own it. They would look me in the eye and say they aren’t up to doing an interview today, or give a simple: “No thank you, Annie … but how are you?” and the next day, they would treat me exactly the same as they did the day before — with respect. They never wavered. Don’t misunderstand me: Both say “Yes” to plenty of interviews and media requests (mine included), but it’s just that they say “No” with grace. Neither plays any games with the media. What you see is what you get. Kris could turn me down for an interview Monday, but Tuesday he and I would shoot the breeze and there would be no hard feelings, ever. I always knew I could go to him with a question and he would give me unbridled honesty.
Gonna miss that guy. Actually, in honor of Kris and his ability to drop more F-bombs in one sentence than humanely possible:
Gonna miss that f**king guy.
You go, Jerry.
The last night of our Combine experience, Kevin Acee (the U-T’s Chargers beat writer) and myself decided to get dinner at the hotel bar. He still had work to do, so he brought his laptop and finished a story while I watched the NBA All-Star game, trying like hell to not fall asleep in my salad. (I’m worse than an old lady, believe me. By 9 p.m. I’m yawning.)
A Texas drawl caught our attention a few seats down.
“Miss, I’d like to buy a bottle of Ketel One, please.”
“Oh, no, you don’t want to do that,” our waitress proclaimed. “Our bottles of alcohol are really expensive because we’re a hotel. It’s $272 for a bottle.”
“Really?” said the man. “Well, that is expensive.”
The waitress nodded apologetically and started walking away, thinking the conversation was finished.
“I’ll take it!” the man exclaimed, grinning.
Our poor waitress. Her jaw dropped to the ground. Nowhere in her mind could she fathom that someone would spend a few hundred bucks on a bottle of $20 vodka.
Kevin and I were laughing, quite aware — though clearly our waitress wasn’t — that the man who was playing along with her attempt to talk him out of an overpriced bottle of bad alcohol had enough money to buy the whole damn hotel.
The man was Jerry Jones. Cowboys owner Jerry Jones. You know the guy — outspoken, loved and hated by many, iconic and filthy, filthy rich.
Seems that Jerry was going out that night and wanted to get started a little early. (Note the irony here … I can barely make it past 9 p.m. and good ol’ Jerry was just beginning to make it rain.)
Anyways, as the waitress retrieved the bottle, Jerry saw us laughing and came over to say hello. We introduced ourselves and as soon as he found out we covered the Chargers, he immediately noted his fondness and love for Norv, who was the offensive coordinator for the Cowboys when the team won back-to-back Super Bowls in 1992 and ’93.
We shook hands, I told him I loved his stadium (I do! I mean, it has go-go dancers and everything!) and as he was leaving, he told the waitress to buy us a few drinks and charge it to his tab.
The man is a PLAYA! Smooth!
Later, we found out from an agent that he dropped $80,000 at an Indy restaurant the night before. Kinda puts that $272 bottle into perspective, huh?
Honestly, no NFL owners are probably more recognizable than Jerry Jones and maybe Robert Kraft. But Jerry has this undeniable spirit, a Texas charm, that sets him apart. Love him or hate him, his personality is bigger than most … (Cue the cliche, “Everything is bigger in Texas” in 3 … 2 … 1). Seriously, it was pretty cool to meet him and I must say: I’d love to be a fly on the wall at one of his parties or nights on the town. The man has major swag.
shenANNIEgans! 