March 2, 2017

My Favorite American Cities

I recently went to Miami for the first time. It was only my second time in a state I have tried arduously to avoid. A 2000 vacation to Spring Training when my high school buddy was with the Braves in Orlando had permanently and adversely affected my opinion of the state. This opinion that has only been emboldened in the recent decade by “Florida man” and other such anecdotal material. Enough people have opined breathlessly on how amazing and wonderful Miami is, so I obviously wasn’t expecting a clone of Orlando, but was nonetheless unimpressed.

A colleague, who makes no secret about Miami being one of his favorite cities – “I’ve been there 300 times!” – brought up the excellent observation that I neither spent the prerequisite $5000 for bottle service in South Beach nor spent the majority of my time on the beach. Fair enough. Regardless, The quote that sparked this email thread was, “Miami is not even in my top 15 American cities.” We toyed around with a little bit of discussion and then he said that that would be a perfect conversation to memorialize, so let’s get to it.

#1 – Los Angeles. Here is the latest paean to the city that I wrote for Quora a few months back: in short, I find it hard to believe that any city – at least that I’ve seen – has the breadth of activities, food, cultureS, quirks, people, ideas, space and creativity. Super glad that my birth lottery dictated I was born here, and no matter how fun a vacation may be, I am always excited to come back.

#2 – New York. Every time I go, the first three days are amazing and then I think about living there and become claustrophobic and suffocated. It’s amazing, and I truly believe the adage “if you make it there…” Absolutely wonderful city in every regard, but just “too much city” or my L.A. ass to challenge for the top spot.

#3 – Las Vegas. I mean, it’s the best of the best and the worst of the worst but all the rules are laid out carefully before you go. You know *exactly* what you’re getting into. However you pursue your day (and night) is up to you and therein lies the pleasure (or pain, if that’s your vice).

#4 – San Diego. I used to think the city was too casual, too said, to Republican, too white. Then I realize the diversity the city and the stupendous nature of the cuisine. It is also a city that I could very much see myself living in, and the proximity to Mexico is a huge plus for me/my family.

#5 – Seattle. Kind of a “home-field advantage” for me, if you will, as I was a resident from 2002-2003. The secluded nature of the city and the fact that it’s a city in the middle of a rain forest make it unique and extremely interesting. I also find it’s a city that revels in its overlooked nature and the arts and technology that come out of there are unparalleled for the city of that size. The food, specifically the seafood, is amazing – and the proximity to Canada is a plus in this case.

#6 – San Francisco. Although the rise of Silicon Valley (and Silicon Beach) has detracted from the level of tech innovation and overall excitement in the city, it is truly a World City of Renown, and frankly reminds me more of a European city than anywhere in the United States. The food is good, though not as great as it once was, and the weather, especially during the summer, is the pits. But I have fun there and I get genuinely excited when the work schedule brings me that direction.

#7 – Washington D.C. I initially thought I ranked the city too high but I’m sticking with it.The summers are ghastly with humidity, the winters are frigid with snow but around every corner, literally, is United States history in its most literal sense. There is also a different energy here than any other city I’ve visited, directly attributed to the cast of characters plugged in to the city’s main industry – politics. It has the best, most efficient mass transit for my money in the United States, good food and a fine collection of old-school bars give it some much-needed flavor. Strictly based on gravitas it also holds extra points in my mind.

#8 – New Orleans. For sheer fun, and I’m not talking about Bourbon Street, this city literally can’t be beat. Grown-up fun of all kinds or you don’t feel the need to be in your 20s to party balls off. The music scene is incredible, the selection and variety and uniqueness of its culinary scene is stupendous, and it’s deceptively walkable, even on the outskirts. That said, I wouldn’t want to spend more than five days here consecutively and don’t feel the need to go back every year.

#9 – Savannah. I kind of can’t believe how enchanting, mystical and whimsical this city is. The vision of southern hospitality is alive and well here. The people are probably the most generous and kind that I’ve met in the states. The food is great, everywhere you walk feels like a novel, and drinking is highly encouraged when it’s not Sunday. Really cool place that I’m willing to bet it’s similar to Charleston (where I have not been but is high on my list).

#10 – Austin. Kind of like New Orleans, but clean and with a different cuisine. Also literally too hot during the summer and I say this as somebody who spent my youth on the streets of the San Fernando Valley where 110° wasn’t abnormal. It just *really* feels like the sun is hotter during the summer there. That said, Congress and Sixth are two of the coolest, most fun boulevards I’ve experienced domestically where the music is awesome and the drinks are dirt cheap. I’m not a huge fan of TexMex so it gets derogatory points for it’s overrated food scene, but the outstanding barbecue is worth having time and time again. Some funky, great hotels and I’m always a fan of universities so to have UT in the middle of the city is a huge plus.

Honorable Mentions:

Atlanta – Cool, fun, probably didn’t see enough Flavor to give it a real ranking.

Philadelphia – Believe it or not, just misses this list. Amazing and underrated food scene, tough but approachable people, really cool history.

Hawaii – I mean if I can include the whole state this definitely makes the list. Top five, in fact.

Palm Springs – Really, really fun if you’re in the right places. And great for a romantic getaway.

Portland – I know it’s supposed to be hipster central so if I love Seattle and Austin why doesn’t Portland get much love? Basically because I feel that it’s trying a little too hard even though it really is a great city. It’s also smaller than I would have imagined for it outsized reputation.

Denver – I went during the Spring and I loved it but I have a feeling that it would’ve been better if I was there during winter. Didn’t amaze me but it was definitely a cool city.

Miami – see intro.

Chapel Hill – The University of North Carolina campus alone is worth a mention.

Worst:

Charlotte, St. Louis, but both pale in comparison of “worst”ness to Orlando.

Bucket List:

Charleston, Dallas, Boston, Detroit, Phoenix, Cleveland, Pittsburgh, Providence, Minneapolis, Nashville, Madison

December 30, 2016

2017 Baseball Hall of Fame Projections

I love Hall of Fame speculation. Good piece here from Deadspin, which owes much of the speculation to inimitable Ryan Thibbs at the BBHOF Tracker. And nobody asked me, but here are my comments:

Jeff Bagwell 93.3% – good. deserves it. .297, MVP, ROY, 449 hr, 1529 rbi, 202 sb

but here are his comps (more later):

Tim Raines 90.4% – easy.

Ivan Rodriguez 85.2% – easy BUT .296, 311hr, 1332rbi. one MVP and no other finishes better than 10th. and for all of this talk about what a stalwart defensively he was, how ironic is this – ‘advanced’ defensive metrics, which obviously didn’t exist to this extent in his day, have him slightly better than average defensively. can’t have it both ways. hmm. here are his career Offensive WAR & Defensive WAR (Tex/Det two line items)

don’t get me wrong. He’s an HoFer. I just don’t think, including steroid allegations, he’s a first-ballot guy. Not if Piazza wasn’t.

Vladimir Guerrero 77.0% my absolutely doggity dog doggggggg but i had to do a fair deep-dive into the numbers. not sure he gets in this year after seeing this vote total, and i had to know why. here’s why:

great comps, right? right. but, but. . .there’s todd helton. and andres galarraga. and well, i’m the first guy to say Beltran isn’t an HoFer. . .but still – if he’s putting up colorado numbers outside of colorado, isn’t that case closed? oh, is it? well – here’s a SUPER interesting black mark for me:

Black Ink

Batting – 6 (358), Average HOFer ≈ 27

“Black ink” are times leading the league. in anything. Six times, Vlad? Hmm. What were those career numbers?

.318, 449hr, 1496rbi, 181sb (with 94 cs!!!). great player. GREAT player. but i can live with him not being a first-ballot guy.

Barry Bonds 71.1% – love this. should be in. no conversation necessary.

Roger Clemens 71.1% – see above, though pre-emptive footnote in my schilling argument below.

Trevor Hoffman 71.1% – ugh. fine. WHIP was 1.05 and averaged 9.4 Ks/9. Saves total of 601 is pretty hard to marginalize. I mean, I’m the first guy to say ‘anybody can close for a year or two’ (Keith Foulke, Jeff Shaw, we’re looking at you) but seriously 30 saves/year for 20 years extrapolated here is amazing. fine. you happy?!?!?! still, for me 1089 career innings is pretty wispy.

Edgar Martinez 68.9% – stop tormenting me, man! why do people love this guy’s candidacy so much????!?!? look, for me it’s not even the whole ‘he was a DH and you can’t hold it against him’ thing. it’s that .312 and 2247 hits are not that impressive. that’s a swell career. but you know where that ranks on the all-time hits list? 170th. i know because i made a google doc about it. he’s right between Bert Campaneris and John Olerud. I mean, definitely some legit guys on this list but, um. Not Hall of Famers, all.

Mike Mussina 63.0% I’m all in on this guy now. He’s getting in. 270 wins is massive. Don’t love the 3.68 ERA but 1.19 WHIP in that era is just fine for me. Never won a Cy but 9 top-10 finishes is great. go get ’em, Moose.

Curt Schilling 53.3% He’s being ‘punished’ for what he’s saying, and i’m the first guy to ‘hate’ on that kind of hatred, heh. that said, similar to Clemens (above), the ‘off-the-field’ will be forgiven. he’s getting in. Especially after Moose gets in. Better ERA (3.46), superior 1.13 WHIP, 3 second place finishes and well, the bloody sock. His comps are underwhelming, but this doesn’t take into account postseason:

but guess what? when he was good, he was great:

and outside of players discussed in the Deadspin article, here’s the live Tracker:

Jeff Kent 11.1% speaking of punished, this guy and Sheffield are the two guys that are unfairly maligned due to perceived difficulty, personality-wise. they’re both winners, so there’s one irony. secondly, i mean look at this: .290, 377hr, 1518rbi. first all-time in dingers for 2b, 3rd all time in RBI – behind a couple guys named Hornsby and Lajoie. Cmon, folks. shut up and mark the ballot.

Fred McGriff, 12.6% Bagwell is a shoo-in, right?

Here are Crime Dog’s numbers:

Career: 493 HR (28th), .284 BA, 1550 RBI (46th)

Now let’s review Bagwell’s:

Career: 449 HR (38th), .297 BA, 1529 RBI (52nd),

Now guess who played in the steroid era and has been speculated to have roided?

interesting.

Manny Ramirez, 31.1% – I get it. More personality backlash. I’ll lay off this year since it’s still early, but if he doesn’t get a Bonds/Clemens-like bump, something is wrong. Maybe it’s a bit much for people to stomach that he was literally busted BUT:

.312, 547hr, 1831rbi, .996 (!) OPS, 8 consecutive top-ten MVP finishes. oh yeah, those comps:

Gary Sheffield, 11.1% these are his numbers with all-time ranks:

Career: 509 HR (26th), .292 BA, 1676 RBI (28th)

253 sb to boot

and THESE comps, literally all HoFers:

Sammy Sosa, 11.1% 609 hr is sweet, but to me – not an HoFer. I just can’t do it. nothing much additional to his game – .273 and a somewhat surprisingly low .878 OPS with six consecutive top-ten MVP. i mean i won’t cry if he gets in as long as McGwire gets in but

Larry Walker, 25.9% cool player, good player but .313, 383hr, 1311rbi just needs to be more impressive with more than half a career in Colorado.

Looks like we’re set to have a great crop of HoFers for the next few years. Regardless, always great to speculate toward year-end. Happy New Year to all, here’s to a great 2017 and beyond.

October 17, 2016

Kershaw. 7th Inning.

We all saw the monkey, and nobody wanted to address it. It had morphed into an elephant with a HUGE 7 on its side.

Kershaw walks Rizzo. on FOUR pitches. that are NOWHERE near the zone.

“this can’t be happening.”

“this IS happening.”

Rizzo takes first.

Zobrist bats. Frustrating, unorthodox stance. mouth wide open while hitting. really makes for an awkward plate appearance, but the dude can hit. and he’s a righty.

Grandal, spooked by Gonzalez charge from 1B, drops a catcher popup (super-difficult/underrated catch, ps).

“this really is going to happen again, isn’t it?”

Zobrist hits a hard foul ball.

“Dammit.”

Zobrist inexplicably takes a fastball through the heart of the plate for strike three.

HUGE sigh of relief.

Addison Russell. Stud. Struggling, but a stud nonetheless.

1-1 count crack off the bat, flyball to left.

Kiké, positioned perfectly in left, makes the catch. two outs.

“He’s gonna do it. Clayton’s gonna get the monkey off his back once and for all.”

But baseball is funny. It really is.

Who steps up – well, it’s Javier Baez. The man that had a superstar-in-the-making reputation for two years without producing. Until this postseason, when he’s become a superstar within a fortnight. And he has one of the two hits on the night off of Kershaw. He’s an immediate Cubs superstar, already entrenched in Cubs lore, especially after his astute play in the field earlier, where he intentionally allowed a pop flare fall in front of him, instead of catching it – the result was a double-play. very heady.

So Baez, the most confident of all Cubs, is at the plate. The air hangs heavy with humidity and bladders are weighed down with beer. Wrigley Field is rollicking.

First pitch to Baez is a ball. The crowd, fervid with excitement, shakes the ancient ballpark.

Kershaw fires a 95-mph fastball letter-high and on the outside half of the plate. Baez takes a mighty rip and CRACKS a bomb deep to center. Every fan, at Wrigley and watching on FS1, takes to their feet. Kershaw huddles over, hands on his knees – this one is gone. The sound, the crowd reaction, Baez’ little hop-step after he hit it –

“We all knew this was going to happen. Damn 7th inning.”

And Joc Pederson, one foot on the warning track, settles under the heavy ball for the third out, excitedly points at Kershaw, who breathes the biggest damn sigh of relief and smiles his way into the dugout.

The monkey? The elephant? They’re gone. Kershaw is the only animal left in these playoffs.

http://m.mlb.com/gameday/dodgers-vs-cubs/2016/10/16/487625#game_tab=box,game=487625,game_state=final

September 23, 2016

My Vin Post

I’ve had nearly the entire calendar year to internalize the impact of Vin Scully’s retirement.

It’s different than when an athlete opts to end his playing career. Kobe Bryant & Derek Jeter received the Kareem Abdul-Jabbar treatment with tours, gifts, roasts, etc.; others, such as Barry Bonds or Allen Iverson, are forced to abandon their ride into the sunset. Magic Johnson, Barry Sanders & Bo Jackson are examples of retirements that were shocking in their suddenness. Each fantastic playing career carries specific moments over a generation – or if the athlete was particularly transcendent, generations plural – and defines a city, an era, a specific way of playing the game; something that entrenched the athlete in the milieu to the extent that their retirement itself was notable.

But for many Dodger fans and Los Angeles natives – and for me, specifically – the career of Vin Scully is inextricably intertwined with Life in L.A.

There was Vin when I was doing my homework in Mrs. Saunders class in first grade. There was She Is Gone. . .In a Year that has been so improbable, the impossible has happened. There were the sombreros being thrown to the sky when old friend Pedro Guerrero made the last out (a GIDP) of Fernando’s no-hitter. There was Vin in Spring for Henry Rodriguez’ four-homerun game. Vin was there when I came home from my first JV game as a 14-year old sophomore. It was Vin, as my Dad would kick back on the floor with his Golden Retriever, Doc, the two of them laying with the screen door ajar, letting the dulcet tones of Vinny complement the perfect San Fernando Valley summer breeze.

Vinny introduced me to Mike Piazza. Hideo Nomo. Ramon and Pedro Martinez. Omar Daal. Ismael Valdes. Vinny was serenading me as Eric Gagné, the mediocre starting pitcher morphed into Eric “Game Over” Gagné, still the most dominating pitcher I’ve seen, asterisk or not. Vin was in love with the O-Dog. Vinny ushered in Mannywood. Yasiel Puig became The Wild Horse.

In recent years, Vin was not there for the playoffs; first because of organizational ineptitude in the 90’s and subsequent Fox era, but mostly because of the Business of Baseball, which precluded ‘local’ broadcasters from doing much of the TV postseason work. Also, Vin’s age (the voice is truly timeless; humans, even a Saint, are not) demanded that the rigors of a baseball travel schedule were simply too much and the road games were increasingly narrated by Rick Monday, Ross Porter, Steve Lyons. Or Charley Steiner. Eric Collins. Recently, L.A. legends Orel Hershiser and Nomar Garciaparra have seen more TV work as Vin only works home games and the occasional trip to San Francisco. And Joe Davis, The Man Who Has to Follow in Scully’s Shoes, does a great job – but he’ll forever live with the moniker he’s no Vin Scully. So there’s less Vin now than ever.

And that’s okay. I’ve become busier. We all have. My son, Felix, is nearly 3 years old. And besides, “baseball is too slow.” But maybe that’s a good thing? When I do get to hear Vin, which I did about 30 times this season, I’ve flashed back to those serene summer nights in Sepulveda. I’d get off of a three-way call on my parent’s landline, run out to do a cannonball in the pool, careen back in the house, grab some Cap’n Crunch and Get Back to This One. You could always Pull Up a Chair, but if you couldn’t, that was okay. Vinny was going to see you again tomorrow night.

I really began to appreciate Vin and think about the dreadful and imminent end of Scully’s magical run a few years ago. I wondered if I’d enjoy Dodger games, or the Dodgers, or honestly, baseball, as much when he was gone. I didn’t want to find out, but knew it would happen. And when Felix was born, I wanted him to be able to hear and recognize Vin’s warm voice and that musical cadence. We sit and listen to games – a few innings, in Felix’s case, and I’m always sure to emphasize Vin Scully. He’s not likely to remember these nascent memories, especially of some old broadcaster, but I’m glad that I did have these years to share, and pass down the tradition.

Vin Scully is the narrator of this City I Love. Vin Scully is not just the voice of Los Angeles, he is Los Angeles. He came west as the city was just finding it’s sea-legs, a post-Baby Boom bastion of suburbs and planned communities that required you to have a car. No, really – that was a novel concept in 1958, and it’s exactly why Vinny became Los Angeles. You were, and still are, in a car all the time, and Vinny was painting games nine months out of the year. Until he’s not. And then what? Life goes on. L.A. will be here, Vinny and my Dad will hopefully live well into retirement, and the Dodgers will continue drawing 3 million fans per year. Baseball will certainly move forward. So will I, so will Felix.

But it will be different, an impact unknown. There may be a void, there will definitely be a ripple in the fabric of my fanmanship. But I do know that Vin Scully’s retirement will be more poignant and powerful than any I’ve experienced in sports.

I sent a letter to Vin during the first Dodgers season after Felix was born. I didn’t expect nor receive a response, and was told that he actually receives more mail than anybody in the organization. Maybe he read it, likely he did not, but the copy is below and the sentiment still holds.

Because Vin Scully really enhanced my life. And proud Los Angeles native or not, I’ve never said that about any type of celebrity before. And I certainly haven’t said it about an athlete. I do have a sombrero, but I’m not going to throw it to the sky, Vin. I’m just hoping that I can enjoy and cherish your five remaining telecasts and maybe, just maybe, the Baseball Gods will reward you and the fans whom you’ve impacted with one more improbable October.

July 15, 2014

Mr. Scully –

I just want to reach out and thank you for your presence within the Dodgers organization and the City of Los Angeles. I am a second generation Los Angeles native, and recently had a son (Felix) that will be the third Lovett male to be serenaded by your voice from April to October of each year.

You are truly the voice that defines summer and provides the soundtrack to our great city. I am proud to be able to pass on the tradition of ‘listening to Vin’ to my son.

In short, your legacy and influence is immeasurable and I cherish each of your broadcasts, and I appreciate your commitment to pulling up a chair and ‘getting back to this one’ in beautiful Chavez Ravine.

Enclosed is a picture of the three of us – my father, Stu; my son, Felix & me.

With admiration and appreciation,

Evan Lovett

September 11, 2016

The Dave Roberts Era

So if there was any question, Dave Roberts not only has put his imprint on this organization but is making it clear that this is an era where on-field management is a conduit for the front office yet still can have a major and positive impact (as opposed to being a puppet).

Removing Rich Hill yesterday during a perfect game, based on the fact that he was starting to have a little bit of “heat” on the blister finger (causing him to miss three of his last six scheduled starts), the move is objectively understandable. I would be extremely agitated if I was Rich Hill – or, frankly, any other Dodger – but the team won the ballgame and Roberts made the right move.

Roberts earnestly & honestly addressed his decision after the game (“I’m going to lose sleep” “I’ve never had a win feel like a loss”). He is clearly a team-oriented manager that understands what it’s like to be in those players’ cleats, and again, what he is done with such an undermanned, chronically injured, oddly constituted team this year has been nothing short of remarkable.

Image: Richard Mackson-USA TODAY Sports

August 21, 2016

Insane Bolt

Usain Bolt. He continues to amaze, but to me – the fact that he outright dominates his competition is what sets him apart. Check out the 4×100 final in the 2016 Rio Olumpics.

Literal neck and neck and neck and neck and neck until Bolt gets the baton and. . .well, g’night to everybody else

In a seven-second span he creates daylight where there previously was none. Screencap at the 28.2 mark (top pic) showing everybody getting their final leg batons at basically the same time:

Then, 7 seconds later, against the fastest competition in the WORLD:

Amazing. There aren’t enough superlatives to describe this guy. One of the greatest athletes ever, certainly. Wow.

August 16, 2016

The Arm, Jeff Passan

I just finished that book The Arm. If you enjoy baseball, get it.

Jeff Passan takes an excellent approach in focusing individual chapters on the disparate elements of approaches toward pitching; Japan, travel ball/Perfect Game USA, the Trevor Bauer/Driveline method. Additionally, he follows Todd Coffey and Daniel Hudson on the journey back from Tommy John surgery, with intimate access to each on the progression of the injury & its recovery.

Frank Jobe, Neal ElAttrache and even Tommy John Jr, who interestingly enough practices arm medicine with nonsurgical approach, are all frequent subjects. In short, MLB in 2014 finally made a real investment into a database of tracking pitcher activity both subjective and object of including injuries performance and biomechanics, and is building a tremendous database with the help of several esteemed medical institutes, that will hopefully arrive at some sort of conclusions for what type of habits are beneficial and which are detrimental to the state of starting pitching.

For now, Passan leaves us with just the facts and philosophies and some jaw-dropping stats about both the increase in velocity and the frequency and Tommy John surgery at all levels of baseball. Get the book. Read it. Awesome. Baseball (James Earl Jones voice).