My Favorite Red Sox Players 31-26

 

31. Rickey Henderson

This year I'm doing a countdown of my all-time Top 31 Favorite Boston Red Sox players. Note: these are players that I consciously remember seeing play. So Ted Williams, Yaz, Luis Tiant, Fred Lynn, Moe Berg aren't on the list.

Kicking off the list is one of my top five favorite baseball players of all time. He didn't contribute a lot to the Boston club, though he did have his moments. He was old, but still funny as hell. And it was awesome just to watch him get into his crouch and hit.

I'm talking about the one and only Rickey Henderson. When I was a kid, my brother and I worshipped Rickey. We thought that he was the absolute pinnacle of speed and power and cool. Having him on the Red Sox, even if he was a shadow of himself, was a dream come true.

Rickey is Rickey is Rickey now matter how old he was.

30. Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd

Number 30 on the list of my All-Time Favorite Red Sox players is one Mr. Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd. He was temperamental, a little crazy but loved to pitched. He kept going well into his 40s in different pro and semi pro leagues.

If he made the All-Star team in 1986 (and he probably should have), could things have been different for him and the Sox that year? Maybe he wouldn't have gotten blasted the night before Game 7 of the World Series and be counted on to pitch instead of Al Nipper? Who knows? But that was the Can.

I have a feeling that if Boyd pitched a generation later, he'd have been something. There was a lot of bullshit that he had to deal with that had he had a more sympathetic front office or supporting system, it may have benefited him greatly. Even in this burst of a career, he shown brightly.

29. Mike Boddicker

Boddicker may no longer be a widely remembered name in Boston but when the Sox got him in 1988 (for minor leaguers Curt Schilling and Brady Anderson) he was the perfect number three starter (behind Clemens and Hurst).

A control pitcher with a dominating hook, Boddicker was quietly component and was the pitcher that you depended on most in the ensuing years. Yes, even more than the combustible Roger Clemens.

I liked watching him pitch because he was thinking out there, seemingly a step or two ahead of the hitter. You could do worse with a staff that had Mike Boddicker at the two or three position. Had the Sox kept Bruce Hurst after the 1988 season and they had a starting staff of Clemens, Hurst and Boddicker; they could have done some stuff during that time. Maybe, just maybe, they could've have slid past the A's one year--provided one of these guys got hot.

28. John Marzano

Number 28 in the list of my favorite Red Sox is a guy who’s every one’s Olympic hero. Yes, I’m talking about John Marzano.

Part of the stacked 1984 Olympic team Marzano was drafted by the Sox, given very opportunity to win a job and ended up as the team’s backup catcher. He had his moments and he was a part of the wave of exciting rookies that made their debuts in 1987.

Marzano was the classic, if he was on a great team, then he must be great too type of players. That 1984 Olympic team was legendary by the time Marzano hit the scene: Barry Larkin, Will Clark, Mark McGwire, BJ Surhoff; if Marzano was on that team, he had to be great, right? It doesn't always work out that way. Marzano made the majors, which is awesome. He hung around for a bunch of years, also awesome. But he was never really a star.

However, for a little while he held the hope of being the next star.

But what I like most about John Marzano is his takes on the Red Sox message board Sons of Sam Horn. Whoever that person is, they know their stuff. This entry is a salute to that guy (or gal)!

27. Lee Smith

The day the Sox got Lee Smith, I was truly shocked. It may have been the first time the Sox have shocked me in a good way. And it was for Calvin Schiraldi and Al Nipper. Smith’s first game was tough, he blew an Opening Day save against the Tigers, but he was nails for 1988 and 89.

For some reason GM Lou Gorman signed Jeff Reardon in the 89 offseason and so the Sox had two really great closers on the roster at once. The idea was that Gorman was going to trade Smith despite the promise that "both men will share the closing duties", which even back then seemed like the biggest pile of shit ever. In May Smith was sent to St. Louis for Tom Brunansky, who was fine. And that was it for Lee Arthur in Boston.

All in all, I'd rather have saved the Reardon money, kept Smith and not had Brunansky. Gorman was so weird because by the early-90s, it seemed that he was trying to recapture the glory of the 1987 Minnesota Twins with Reardon, Brunansky and Frank Viola all on the roster. I mean they did win the World Series, but they really shouldn't have; both the Tigers (and Blue Jays) and Cards were so much better than them.

I never understood why Gorman spent the money on Reardon. No one has ever explained it either other than Gorman like Reardon better. But that was Lou Gorman in a nutshell, sometimes he could make a brilliant move (like getting Lee Smith for nothing) and then he could turn around and make a dumb move (like signing Reardon when Smith is already on your roster).

26. Wade Boggs

He’s number 26 on your scorecard and number 26 on this list. Of course I’m talking about the guy who literally can drink the most beers—and not some fabrication your dumbest friend in college made up—Wade Boggs.

When Boggs was on the Sox I never liked him very much. I mean, I liked that he was on the team and got a ton of hits and peppered the wall with a billion doubles but I focused more on what he didn’t do. Namely hit home runs.

Getting on base, working his ass off to be play a good third base, walking. That was stuff for wimps. I wanted one-dimensional homerun hitters on my team. I wanted guys who were fast and athletic. And when he did decide to hit home runs, like he did in 1987 (a years everyone did, incidentally) I used that against him.

Boggs was a strange dude that I never appreciated but I should have. All he did was hit. And hit. And hit. That’s not easy at all. In fact it’s probably more difficult than swinging from your heals every at bat.

A lot of people hold it against him that he went to the Yankees but the Sox released him and New York offered him a job, what else was he suppose to do? Not only that but Boston let him languish in the minors for years despite him being ready for prime time.

I’d have probably told the Sox to pound sand too.

My favorite stadiums Preamble-26

 Preamble:

Welcome to this year's countdown to The Real National Hot Dog Day. I hope you've been doing your exercises over the last month to stretch out those bellies because game time is almost here.

In counting down to the big day, one of the fun things I like to do get people hyped (do the kids still say "hyped"? I like to think they do) is to rank things from 30-1. Last year it was my favorite baseball teams, the year before it was Red Sox players. This year it's going to be stadiums (stadia?).

 

I've been to 29 different parks and I have thoughts on all of them, but there are 30 days until April 8. So what to do for today? I'm going to use this as a catch-all for the seven parks that I haven't seen and rank them from 7-1 in terms of ones that I want to see next. 

 

7. Tropicana Field. Florida sucks. Tampa sucks. And this stadium looks awful. Plus as we found out last year, the Rays are my least favorite team in MLB. If I wasn't such an OCD completest, I'd skip this one. But since I'm not, I'm going to go and sit with my arms crossed the entire time. That'll show 'em. Fun fact: do you know that NHL Lightning used to play their home games in this mausoleum? It's the house that (Brent) Gretzky built!

 

6. LoanDept Park. Up until 30 seconds ago, I had no idea of the name of the park that the Marlins play in. Now I do and it's as low-rent as the franchise. The two interesting things about the place: the psychedelic statue in center field and the aquariums behind home plate have been ripped out (by former CEO Derek "FUN!" Jeter) and now it's just a boring ass place to watch a game. Great job Jetes, you should be the next commissioner. 

 

5. Guaranteed Rate Field. Or Comiskey II in Chicago. Fun fact, I'm going to this field this year so I'll be able to give a better synopsis of the place. Know this, it opened a year before Camden and the White Sox are trying their damnedest to get out of the place; even threatening to move to Nashville. Do I think that will happen? No. Owner Jerry Reinsdorf tried this bullshit back in the late 80s when he told the world that the Sox were going to play at Tropicana Field (then called the TropicanaDome) only to get the money to build this legacy to boringness. 

 

4. Globe Life Field. It's hot in Texas. Really hot. Especially in July and August, so it finally dawned on the Rangers that the should play in doors after 45 years of playing outside and sweating their mustaches off. I think that this place looks, I don't know, fine? At least there won't be any rainouts or no one will die of heat stroke. Fun fact: the first teams to play in this place weren't the Rangers! When we were in the depths of Covid four years ago, this was one of the spots where MLB held the playoffs. The Ray and Dodgers took the field before the Rangers did. The only other park I can think of where that happened is Wrigley Field, which was built for the Federal League Chicago Whales. When the FL when belly up, the Cubs moved in. 

 

3. Target Field. This looks like a lovely park to spend a Friday or Saturday summer evening. I'm kinda obsessed with the Twin Cities in a weird sort of way, all tucked up in the northern part of the US. It seems quaint. I've never been to Minnesota--I heard the mosquitos are murder--but I'd like to go and where the Twins play is a TARGET destination. Ho, ho! Get ready Minnesotans for that kind of wit when Byron Magrane comes to town(s)!

 

2. Kauffman Stadium. When I was a kid, this was an absolute house of horrors for the Red Sox (sort of like old Arlington Stadium in Texas, though for other reasons). The Royals were the bizarro Red Sox, they were super athletic, barely hit dingers (Medford, MA native Steve Balboni held the club's season record of 35 for many years) and were fast as hell. Kauffman (nee Royal) Stadium was huge and it was covered in astroturf and guys like Willie Wilson or Lonnie Smith or Frank White would slap the ball around and the next thing you know they're standing on third base waiting for George Brett to drive them in and Red Sox fielders are trying to catch their breath. But then the Royals got rid of the turf, tightened the place up a little and it doesn't have quite the same amount of advantages as it used to. They still have the waterfalls though and the team wants to move to a park in down town KC. So I better get my ass to Missouri if I want to see it. 

 

1. Dodger Stadium. God damn, this is the quintessential ball park. I want to go here so much, my feet hurt. Look at the picture attached to this post, it's so perfect. I mean if that doesn't scream baseball, I don't know what does. I have to go to LA really soon and check out a game here, I don't care how much it's going to cost; this is like a pilgrimage to Mecca (not the place the Bucks used to play at). 

 

29.

 

We are 29 days away from The Real National Hot Dog Day and we're counting down the stadiums I've been to in order from worst to best. 

 

Today's park is Olympic Stadium in Montreal, Quebec; home of the Montreal Expos.

 

This was the first park I've ever been to, outside of Fenway Park. The way that I got there was kinda dumb, kinda Amesbury but it worked out. When I was in eighth grade our Spanish class took a four day field trip to Montreal during spring break. Why Spanish speaking kids would go to a French speaking city is beyond me, maybe they wanted to expose (no pun) us to people who spoke something other than a butchered version of the King's English.

 

Anyway, we were supposed to go to a planetarium that night, but I think that the weather was lousy so the surprised us with tickets to the baseball game instead. And I was ecstatic when I heard the news. National League! Expos versus Phillies! A new, modern stadium! Holy shit this was going to be so good.

It was and it wasn't. I mean it was cool as hell going to the game with 40 other kids. There were only like five chaperones, so it was like we were at the game by ourselves; we ran around the stadium, bought souvenirs, ate like assholes ... it was awesome.

 

But the park itself? Ugh. I wasn't impressed. And I was 14-years-old at the time, I was pretty much impressed by everything that wasn't mundane. The place was dirty, cheap looking, not well lit. The turf looked old, the place was cavernous without a lot of people there. It just seemed, I don't know, sad.

Olympic Stadium was built to hold the 1976 Olympics and then was retrofitted for Expos games. Even when I went back in 1988, you could tell that this wasn't a baseball stadium. It no longer had the track running along the field like it once did, but it just was depressing. It was just run down and didn't feel like a major league team should call this place its home.

 

We were told that the roof was able to open and close, but it broke some years prior to when we got to see our game there, so it had to stay closed. I think that the fixed it some years later, but the system they used to bring in the natural daylight didn't work all that great.

 

In 1991-ish, a huge chunk of cement fell off the roof during a time when no one was in the stadium and crashed on one of the concourses. Had there been a game at this time, more than one person would have gotten crushed. The Expos had to go on a 30-day road trip so that architectural engineers could make certain that that wouldn't happen again.

 

Even though the stadium was a drag, for a long time this was my most interesting fact about myself: I saw an Expos game in far-away Montreal. That doesn't say much for me, but I thought that it was cool as hell.

The Expos ended up leaving Montreal in 2004 and relocated to DC the following season. As for the Amesbury Middle School Montreal trip, it ended up going pretty great. We had a lot of fun, I was introduced to a new rock group: Guns N' Roses that everyone seemed to listen to. I went to my first sports bar, which was cool, even though no one drank. We saw anti-English rallies, which made us want to shout things in English (we were assholes!) and kinda terrified us too.

 

I guess sending a bunch of barely Spanish speaking kids to Montreal was a success. Consider our horizons broadened.

 

As for the game, the Expos beat the Phillies 2-1 in extra innings. I'm pretty sure it was Tim Raines (or maybe Graig Nettles) who hit the game winning home run right into the rightfield section we were sitting in. Only we weren't there. Some of the kids were getting bored and wanted to leave, so we took off in the eighth.

 

Knowing my eighth grade self, I was absolutely furious. But que sera sera.

 

Actually it turns out Nettles hit a dinger in the eighth (where we were sitting) to tie the game and the Expos scratched out a run in the tenth. Here is the boxscore: https://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1988/B04160MON1988.htm Two Hall of Famers: Michael Jack Schmidt for the Phillies and Tim Raines for Montreal.

28. 

We are 28 days away from The Real National Hot Dog Day and we're counting down the stadiums I've been to in order from worst to best.

 

Today's stadium is RFK in Washington, DC, home (for a short time) to the Washington Nationals. When last we left the Expos (yesterday), they were wards of the League and were playing in a shitty stadium in Montreal and a stadium in Puerto Rico. The team was sold and moved to Washington, where the national game was given its third chance to take root in the nation's capital.

 

RFK was an old, beat up stadium that was never meant to house the Nats for very long. It began its life as one of the multipurpose stadia that dotted the landscape in the 1960s and 70s. Basically the idea was why have two stadiums in the city for baseball and football, when you can spend less money and have two for the price of one?

 

People in New York (Shea), Pittsburgh (Three Rivers), Philadelphia (Veterans), Cincinnati (Riverfront), Miami (The Orange Bowl), Denver (Mile High), Los Angeles (The Coliseum), Houston (Astrodome) and Washington--and there were other--all agreed. A bunch of these multipurpose stadia didn't have grass, they had astroturf, which was basically green painted concrete. Not RFK though, it was a Cheech and Chong special: pure grass. (Good timely reference? Sure, the kids love the dopey hippie antics of Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong.)

 

While these venues weren't great for the athletes that played there, the folks who ran the city loved them because every one loves a two-for-one deal. After awhile owners started to get pissy because if you didn't own both teams that played in the stadium, there was a good chance that you were a tenant to the guy who did own the stadium. Rich people hate answering to other people so much, so in the 80s and 90s they began vacating these dual purpose places for palaces of their own.

 

Don't worry folks! Those rich people never had to pay for their stadiums and parks, they got us to do it for them. How? Ginned up "research" papers saying that new stadiums bring huge financial windfalls to the areas (they don't). If that didn't work they'd fall back on good old extortion -- "Build my stadium or we're moving to Louisville or Tampa or some other God foresaken burgh filled with rubes who'd kill to build a stadium for me."

 

Anyway, the second iteration of the Senators called RFK their home and when they left for Texas after 12 seasons in DC, the Washington Football Team had the place all to themselves. And RFK was a legendary football field as the WFT was really good in the 80s and 90s (three Super Bowl Champs!) and their fans (the Hawgs) became something of a media sensation too.

 

But as the millennium changed the WFT moved to Maryland into a new (tax payer supported) stadium and RFK was pretty much only home to the MLS DC United. So the Nats were able to move in and play there.

Was it a good stadium? No. It was run down, beat up and seen better days. There was a charm to it, like there is in all those old stadiums, where you know some cool stuff (at least football wise) happened on the same grass that you were looking at.

 

My wife Aly and I went with her friend Amy and sat in seats in the second tier of stands. It was a warm April day and it was just a lovely day. We didn't have any kids to worry about, we just watched a game between two teams we didn't care about (Nats and DBacks), drank some beers and enjoyed ourselves.

Incidentally this was the second or third week that the Nats were new to town and we got seats no problem. I'm not sure what that means/meant but I remember at the time being worried that we wouldn't get seats.

 

The folks at RFK tried really hard to make their stadium presentable and they did fine. It wasn't as depressing as Olympic Stadium or tomorrow's place, but it was an old shithole. And there's only so much paint and elbow grease you can use to spiffy a place like that up.

 

Here is the boxscore of the game we saw: https://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/2005/B04170WAS2005.htm No Hall of Famers. Woof of a game.

27. 

We are 27 days away from The Real National Hot Dog Day and we're counting down the stadiums I've been to in order from worst to best.

 

Today's stadium is Oakland Coliseum in Oakland, CA home (for maybe just this last year?) to the Oakland Athletics.

 

This is not a brag or anything, but it's needed to make a larger point: I don't mind going out and doing things by myself. For a lot of people, that's difficult and they don't like it. Not me. I've gone to concerts, comedy shows, movies, dinners and baseball games alone. I would prefer company, but if people can't go, they can't go. It's fine.

 

Most of the things I go to, it's hard to talk to someone while you're doing/watching the thing. Baseball games (and dinners) are different. Live sporting events are designed to be communal and sometimes when you're by yourself, they can kinda drag a bit. It's a good time to meet people and talk to them, which is what I do.

 

All of that being said, the one time that I went to the Oakland Coliseum was one of the most depressing times I've ever spent at any ballpark. I was on a business trip in 2008 and the A's were bad. They were playing the Orioles who were also really bad. I took the BART to the Coliseum (it's gone through so many names, that I'm not sure what it was called) and got out of the train.

 

I walked to the park in this completely chain link fenced-enclosed walkway over the parking lot that seemed like a little bit of overkill. It was ominous, like I was going into a battle. Or a war zone. I bought my ticket from the ticket window and the person there seemed bored and completely uninterested--to be fair, she could have been having a bad day.

 

And then I went into the park. I have always been a big Oakland A's supporter, they're my second favorite AL team. I've always romanticized Oakland as this hip, cool place to live. The little brother of nearby San Francisco. The city with the can-do attitude. I wanted to love the Coliseum.

 

But friends, I did not love the Coliseum. I found my seat and for the entirety of the game, my entire section, not row, was completely empty. I wasn't in the upper bowl either, I was in the second bowl and there was no one remotely close to me.

 

So I got a beer and a dog and watched the A's play seven or eight uninspired innings again the Orioles who did the same thing. After about two innings, I began getting restless and started texting my friends. But it was a 7:00 pm start and most of my friends (except Stephen Brown! Good old Brownie!) were asleep. I stretched my legs, walked around the park a bit. Sat in some other seats.

 

Then I decided to go home. As I walked back on the walkway to the BART and under the enclosed chainlink fence I heard something. It was a white guy (this is an important detail) walking in the middle of the street, next to the BART tracks, screaming at the top of his lungs, "HEY (racial epithet) COME GET ME! COME GET ME!"

 

I jumped on the BART and got the hell out of there, though I often wonder what happened to that guy.

Drunk bigots aside, the Oakland Alameda County Coliseum was once one of the most beautiful stadia in the game. Yes, it was a multipurpose bowl like we talked about yesterday but there were some breath taking views of the surrounding areas. Until Al Davis moved the Raiders back from Los Angeles and demanded that they build more seats.

 

The city of Oakland agreed, built them in center field, destroyed the view, made the place look like shit and the Raiders eventually high tailed it for Las Vegas. This is a city where the Athletics want to go too. Owner Jack Fisher is a real asshole and has salted the grounds in Oakland and is doing a terrible, terrible job of selling the A's to the Vegas community, who wants nothing to do with them.

 

But I guess that's where they're going and it's a shame because Oakland can support the A's. They just took a stand in not supporting a fuckhead like Fisher and now they're getting the shaft.

 

Professional sports kinda sucks, you guys.

 

New thing I'm doing here: if I've seen only one game at the park I'm writing about, I'll link the retrosheet summary here: https://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/2008/B05050OAK2008.htm

 

Huh. Looks like Frank Thomas played for the A's. Wild. Aside from the Big Hurt, no one from this game is going to Cooperstown without a ticket.

26.

 

We are 26 days away from The Real National Hot Dog Day and we're counting down the stadiums I've been to in order from worst to best.

 

Today's stadium is Shea Stadium in New York City (where they make all of that cheap ass salsa) the previous home of the New York Mets.

 

In the last three entries, the one thing that ties all of these low-rated ballparks is that they're dumpy. Low rent. Not taken care of. Places that were once grand palaces to sport, now reduced to afterthoughts.

Shea Stadium is no different. I've seen pictures of this place when it first opened up and it looked really bright and vibrant full of electric blues and shocking oranges mixing with the green grass of the playing field. It managed to encapsulate the technicolor vibe of that late 60s era.

 

With their young team on the precipice of a World Series, the Mets played as shiny as that brand new stadium. But like everything else, what once was new is now old. The stadium fell into disrepair. The blues faded. The oranges wilted. Even the green grass wasn't as bright.

 

Shea Stadium needed more than a paint job, it needed a complete resurrection. But Shea Stadium was never YANKEE STADIUM, the House that Ruth Built where a million World Series were won. Shea had the famous 1969 series, the less famous 1973 tilt against the A's, the infamous 1986 bullshit and the cross town series of 2000 that wasn't that exciting.

 

Also, the Jets played there and they were pretty garbage most of the time.

 

When I walked into Shea, I wasn't really blown away. It was like walking into your very elderly aunt's house, where you recognize that this place was once pretty nice but now it's old, musty and probably needs to be fumigated.

 

The Mets did so and now play at CitiField. The lesson today is sometimes just because something is old, doesn't mean it's worth saving.

 

I only went to Shea once and here is the box score: https://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/2007/B08240NYN2007.htm

 

The Mets had a pretty good lineup! The Dodgers, not so much. No Hall of Famers, but Carlos Beltran has a shot.

My Favorite Teams 30-24

Back in March and April of this year I was counting up my favorite baseball teams on Facebook in anticipation of The Real National Hot Dog Day. I thought that it might be a good idea to keep them here for posterity. Here are the first group of teams along with the FB introductions. 

 

30. 

It's that time of the year everyone! The Real National Hot Dog Day will be here in a month! Get your collective asses ready.

 

We are 30 days away from the The Real National Hot Dog Day and to celebrate, we're counting up, Casey Kasem style, my favorite baseball teams.

 

We begin at the bottom with a surprising entry at number 30, the Tampa Bay Rays. You might think that I hate (and this is sports hate people, not the real thing) another team even more, but you're wrong. I hate everything about the Rays.

 

I hate:

- Their players. If a team could have 25 middle relievers, the Rays would do so. Everyone (except Wander) is bland as hell.

- Their front office.

- Their front office's philosophy.

- That they made the shift "cool".

- That they made openers "cool".

- Their hats. Have you ever seen anyone wearing a Rays hat? Ever?

- Their boring-ass uniforms.

- Their stupid logo. It looks like it's for a Chili's rip off bar anchoring a dead-ass strip mall where you get watered-down margaritas and microwaved jalapeno poppers.

- That they were bullied by Christian fundamentalists to remove the word "Devil" from their name because it was "Satanic". (True story!)

- Their park. Every game here is like watching paint dry. Though my friend Ryan Foley said it "wasn't too bad", which is a five-star ringing endorsement for this shit hole.

- The weird rules of their park. And dude, I love weird baseball. But fuck this place.

- Their lack of fans. Most of them are Yankee fans, let's be honest.

- How all of their fans constantly cry about getting to the park on game day. Like going to any of the other 29 stadia on game days are a breeze.

- How they're not in Montreal.

 

29.

The Evil Empire? Not any more, amigo. They're just another team.

We are 29 days away from the The Real National Hot Dog Day and to celebrate, we're counting up, Casey Kasem style, my favorite baseball teams.

 

It's a bit of a shock that this team wasn't number 30, but guess what, here's another thing that this team hasn't won. Coming in at 29 is the New York Yankees.

 

Truthfully, if this countdown was done 20 years ago, they'd be number 30 with a bullet. But one World Series since 2001 will cool the fires of hate (the embers are always there), plus there isn't as many current Yankee bad guys as many. There's no Reggie or Thurman or Billy or Nettles or Goose or Posada or Giambi or Sheffield or Jeter or O'Neil or Pettitte or Kevin Brown or Steinbrenner or Zimmer to really focus your hatred on.

 

I mean are you going to hate Aaron Judge? Or Giancarlo Stanton? Gerrit Cole seems like a douche, but I mean, so what. He's not that detestable, at least not yet. Brett Gardner was always a shithead, but he'd probably be a fourth outfielder on a really good Yankee, he's sort of like hating Ricky Ledee.

 

The reality is that the Yankees became what I wanted them to become the most: just another team.

While the rivalry of the early 00s was a lot of fun, it was also exhausting to listen Boston sportswriters breathlessly inform us that the latest Yankee signing was going to destroy the Sox (it rarely did) or how the guys in the Bronx have a super prospect on the rise (most of the time no). Now they're one of 30 and no special attention is needed.

 

They'll find their way to the playoffs every year, probably win a round (especially if the Twins or the A's are involved) and then get blown out by the Astros or even the Sox (when they decide it's worth it to be in contention).

 

To be honest, I can live with this new reality. I think that we all can.  

 

28. 

The Diamondbacks are just fine. Only 28 more days until the Real National Hot Dog Day!

 

 

 

We are 28 days away from the The Real National Hot Dog Day and to celebrate, we're counting up, Casey Kasem style, my favorite baseball teams. 

 

I don't hate too many baseball teams and I don't love too many baseball teams, but I'm indifferent to a lot of them. It's a sliding scale where I might root for a team one spot above the other, but that doesn't mean I like that team much better.

 

Beginning the league of indifference is the Arizona Diamondbacks. I don't dislike the D'backs, but if any subsequent teams played them in a postseason game, chances are I'd root for them. However, that could change if the D'backs get a transcendent player or if they employ someone who it would be cool if they won the World Series (like the Astros last year).

 

Otherwise they're an uninspiring team. They have a long ass name, so they have to put their nickname of their uniforms, which sorta bugs me for some reason. I should like their original colors of purple, teal and copper because it was a unique look but I don't. Having said that, I'm not wild about their red, black and tan colors either. Though their hat that has a snake shaped like a "D" is pretty inspired.

 

Aside from the 2001 World Series, they haven't been anything that really captured the sport's zeitgeist. Though to be fair, the 2001 Series was pretty god damn epic for a lot of reasons.

 

They just seem to exist in the desert and around to get their asses kicked by the western team du jour (mostly the Dodgers) and just play uninspired baseball. Back in the day, I'd write out an MLB season preview and I forgot to include Arizona one year. I think about that a bunch when I think of this team. 

 

The Diamondbacks are just there as ballast.

 

27. 

While you're waiting the 27 days until the Real National Hot Dog Day, why don't you check out what I have to say about the Rockies -- a team that may or may not exist. 

 

Also, if you don't follow The Real National Hot Dog Day, what are you doing with your life? Give it a follow and learn all about the bunny goodness that is TRNHDD. Your mouth will thank you for it!

 

 

We are 27 days away from the The Real National Hot Dog Day and to celebrate, we're counting up, Casey Kasem style, my favorite baseball teams. 

 

The past three times it has grown, baseball expanded in a pair of teams (which makes sense). Mariners and Blue Jays in 1977, Diamondbacks and Devil Rays in 1999 and wedged between those two expansions were the Marlins and Rockies in 1993.

 

What I felt that this meant is that you become a fan of either one of the other: I liked the M's, I eventually warmed up to the Jays. I thought a lot about liking the D-Backs, but as we saw with yesterday's post that didn't happen and I've always disliked the Rays.

 

I thought that I was really going to appreciate the Rockies, despite the fact that they ripped off the old Colorado NHL franchise's name. But there was a lot of history of baseball in the Mile High City, they were going to play in a place where a ton of homers were going to be hit and it was going to be fun.

It's been 30 years and aside from one World Series appearance against the Red Sox (where they were destroyed an ultimately lost on the exact day my eldest was born), the Rockies have been a pretty lame ass team.

 

The team's owner, Dick Monfort, sucks and consequently, the front office is pretty clueless. There always seems to be a rebuild going on, the team's philosophy changes on a whim and for such a beautiful ballpark (honestly, top five for me) there's not a lot of excitement there.

 

It's like their whole motto is, "We understand you need a team in Dever and we're that team!"

 

The Rox were fun in the 90s when they didn't have a humidor to squelch the number of homers hit in their park and they loaded the lineup with aging sluggers who mashed their way throughout the season. I guess they got sick of losing 11-10 every game, so they tried to find some pitchers, but that didn't work out but they also jettisoned their power threats and now they're just a team with some decent hitting and below average pitching.

 

I get that most GMs will say that "We want a balanced team mainly because we don't play all 162 games in Colorado." But is it entertaining? If you're a Rockie fan, wouldn't you much rather watch a bunch of steroid addled lumberjacks hit tape measure dingers and lose a little more than you win than watch what the Rockies have become now?

 

I know what I'd choose, but hey, the Rockies are my 27th favorite team and I don't really have a dog in this fight.

 

26.

A few words on the Texas Rangers.

 

 

We are 26 days away from the The Real National Hot Dog Day and to celebrate, we're counting up, Casey Kasem style, my favorite baseball teams. 

 

If Tuesday was a baseball team, it would be the Texas Rangers.

 

The Texas Rangers are just there. Even when they get superstars (and they've had their share over the years -- Ted Williams was the first Rangers manager ever), they never seem to grasp the spotlight.

Aside from Nolan Ryan, I suppose. But he retired 30 years ago. The Rangers have had some really good team chock full of really good players since then but they're somehow terrific and anonymous. I know that people say that teams like the Pirates or the Reds are baseball's version of Siberia, but it's Arlington, Texas.

 

If you're a Ranger, nothing you do seems to matter much.

 

This might be my own biases talking, but childhood is where you start putting stuff together and it leaves a mark that lasts a long time. Whenever I'd get a Texas Ranger in a pack of baseball cards, he always looked the same: longish hair under a washed out blue hat with a white "T", droopy mustache, kinda looked like a cowboy--but one that had been dragged by a horse for a few miles. The pics always showed a man that appeared to be hot and uncomfortable--no matter where the picture was taken--like he had been running sprints in the Texas heat for an hour before the photographer nabbed his shot.

 

And when I watched the Sox play games there it was always sunny, but it was that unbearable sunshine: too bright, too hot, it made you feel sluggish; like the last thing you wanted to do was hit a ball or throw it. Boston always wilted there, which might be the cause of my dislike, but by August, the Rangers would inevitably get worn down too. But by then it was football season and no one cared about the Rangers.

The idea that Rangers getting to back-to-back World Series will never not shock me. For my entire life, they were also rans, a group of players who were assembled to play pretty well in the spring, break down in the summer and limp off to obscurity in the fall.

 

I don't hate the Rangers, but even with their success, I kinda think that they're just nothing. 

 

25.

Know a Marlins fan? Neither do I.

 

Know a Real National Hot Dog Day fan? I'm sure you do. As we count down to TRNHDD, peruse this essay on baseball, fun and the elimination of fun told through the prism of the Miami Marlins.

  

We are 25 days away from the The Real National Hot Dog Day and to celebrate, we're counting up, Shadoe Stevens style, my favorite baseball teams. 

 

Every time the Miami Marlins do something interesting, they get cold feet and reverse course. Baseball is an exciting game, but unlike hockey or hoops, it's not a constantly exciting game. There's a lot of down time and during those periods, people at the stadium need to be entertained.

 

This is not a new, "stupid kids and their Tik Toks!", thing. The Lords of Baseball have known this since Cracker was introduced to Jack. It's why there are beer vendors in the stands and seventh inning stretches and exploding scoreboards and fly overs and kiss cams and grounds crews doing the YMCA. You are not less of a baseball fan if you want a little entertainment outside of the game.

 

When the Marlins put one over on the city and county that they play in and got them to pay for their new park, they added this loud, ostentatious statue that would move when one of the Marlins hit a home run. It was bright and colorful and reflected the most vibrant city in MLB--it was quintessential Miami--and it was beautiful.

 

So when the Marlins named the most boring milquetoast superstar to ever lace up his cleats as their team President, one of Derek Jeter's first actions was to take the statue down. Why? I'm sure he mumbled something about unwritten rules, playing the game the right way, this is a Major League franchise and about 100 other cliches. The bottom line is the statue was gone and now the stadium is as dull as the last 20 Marlins team.

 

Good work, Captain Jeter, the team is now as soulless and mundane as you.

 

In 1996 former owner Wayne Huizenga (and Blockbuster maven) was getting ready to sell the team but he wanted to go out a winner. He signed and traded for every really good baseball player, won the World Series and immediately had it dismantled. He sold the team to John Henry who baby sat the franchise for a few years until selling it to Jeffrey Loria--it was more complicated than this.

 

Loria won the World Series in 2003 and then also started to dismantle the team. And they've stayed dismantled since then. The one interesting thing about this malaise is that the Marlins were the only team to ever win the World Series every time they made the playoffs. What a weird stat, right?

 

Of course, a former Yankee had to help ruin that. In the Covid shortened season of 2020, just about everyone made the playoffs and that included Don Mattingly's Miami squad! They weren't very good and were bounced in the first round, so that's another weird wrinkle ironed out by a former New Yorker.

 

I guess this is just a long winded way of saying, the Marlins can be fun, but they're not going to be fun for too long. So whether it's a dope ass statue, a weird playoff streak, using teal as your primary color or your favorite Marlin, don't get used to it. It's probably on its way out the door very soon.

 

24.

Remember the Barbie Twins from the 90s? This post isn't about them.

#24 on the countdown: The Minnesota (not the Barbie) Twins.

 

   

We are 24 days away from the The Real National Hot Dog Day and to celebrate, we're counting up, Shadoe Stevens style, my favorite baseball teams. 

 

I definitely don't hate the Minnesota Twins. In fact, when they were one of the two teams that were going to be folded back in the early 00s (and how fucked up was that, seriously?), I was really bummed out that a team that had been around since 1901 was going to go away due to owner greed (it's always owner greed, forever and ever).

 

But at the same time, I don't think that I actually like the Twins. Back in the day, I was a big Kirby Puckett fan, like Kent Hrbek, Gary Gaetti, Jeff Reardon, Frank Viola, Bert Blylven. In subsequent years I liked watching Joe Mauer play, Johan Santana pitch, Torii Hunter and Byron Buxton (what an awesome first name) make amazing plays.

 

Even the idea of Minnesota having a baseball team way up in the northern part of the country is appealing to me. I am looking forward to visiting Target Field one day.

 

Having said all that, I don't think that I've ever actively rooted for Minnesota. In the 1987 World Series, I wanted the Cards to win. In the 1991 World Series, I wanted the Braves to win. I wasn't devastated that the Twins won, but I would have preferred it if the other walked off the field with the trophy*.

 

* Especially in 1991. I'm a big Hall of Fame guy, but I was never aboard the Jack Morris for the Hall of Fame train. I thought that Morris was fine and never really dominant. If Lonnie Smith didn't get deked out and scores, maybe the Braves win and Morris' Game 7 performance doesn't go down in history. IDK. All I know is that Morris owes a percentage of any revenue he gets from being a Hall of Famer to Smith, second baseman Chuck Knoblauch (for doing the faking) and Puckett for single-handedly getting Minnesota to Game 7 in the first place.

 

The only time that I really have rooted for the Twins (fun fact, since 1987 the Twins have had an underscore line on all of their home shirts so that it reads tWINs, also the logo [Minny and Paul] with this post rocks though, I love it) is when they play the Yankees. This is an absolutely Sisyphian chore as since 2002, the Twins are 39-111 (.243) against the Bombers.

 

That's insane to me. How bad is that? It's comical at this point. Why bother scheduling the Yankees at all?

 

Another thing that leads to my Minnesota malaise, the Twins also share Ft. Myers so the Red Sox play them a ton in Spring Training -- so much so that there is a Mayor's Cup where the winner of the Spring series gets to show off that they're the best in Ft. Myers. I have no idea who is leading, but it's a lot of Twins games in March.