I Am Done Reminiscing And Ruminating. For Now.

When you travel and watch sports as much as I do, you observe and recollect things more acutely. Such is my curse.

My wife and I went to Delaware on Wednesday. This coincides with the 50 year anniversary of my starting law school in the inaugural class of the Delaware Law School. 

En route, we passed Exit 9 on the New Jersey Turnpike. That is the exit for Route 18, which passes by the Rutgers campus and crosses the Raritan River near SHI Stadium. A stadium which, in my youth was a quaint 23,000 seat structure in a kind of a horseshoe shape, with plenty of vines separating the home stand on the West side, the end zone stands and the visiting bleachers on the East side. 

Except that Rutgers is no longer playing the likes of Columbia, Lafayette, Lehigh and Colgate. Instead, Rutgers awoke from the shadows of the Ivy League schools and began to play big time football. After all, RU is the birthplace of college football. 

First, it was the occasional foray into the netherworld of Eastern and Southern football. William & Mary was replaced by Tennessee. Colgate was replaced by Syracuse. Pitt took the place of Lafayette. 

Before long, RU was in an eastern conference which had Syracuse, Temple, Pitt, West Virginia, Boston College among others. The quaint stadium grew and became a big, double-decked facility. 

It wasn’t just Army visiting. Texas and Notre Dame actually came to Piscataway.  Road trips to Tennessee, Hawaii and Florida were on the schedule. Even Bear Bryant wanted to take on RU in an easy matchup in the fairly new 76,000 seat Giants Stadium in East Rutherford. (Alabama won, but not easily)

A Bucknell guy named Greg Schiano showed up and the Scarlet Knights were playing and winning bowl games. They almost made it to the Orange Bowl; the teams were that good. 

Then Schiano took the money offered by Tampa Bay which RU couldn’t match, and began what was a very unsuccessful stint in the NFL. And RU football went on a downward slant. 

But now, Rutgers is in one of the two most prestigious conferences for football and all sports, perhaps by the sheer luck of its proximity to New York City and a great academic pedigree. Schiano is back patrolling the sidelines. 

There is an air of excitement for football, with RU getting more and more talented players and becoming less of a doormat in the Big Ten. For that matter, RU has experienced success with many sports, most notably in basketball, soccer, lacrosse, baseball and field hockey.

While competitive spending on athletics has been a beastly financial burden on Rutgers, it appears to be paying some dividends. Moreover, the obscene $8 billion TV contract the league secured comes at a perfect time for RU to take the next step and get the players to come where the facilities are first rate. 

Of course, there is that little thing called Name-Image-Likeness, or NIL for short. Schiano, or for that matter Alabama’s Nick Saban have recognized that NIL can be kryptonite if your program seeks to be great year and year again. 

RU has begun game planning for its opener in Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts versus Boston College, now of the ACC, but a familiar opponent from the Big East Conference. While driving around Delaware, I was even offered tickets to the home opener against cupcake Wagner, which I declined because we had plans. 

Maybe it will be a good season. I saw a prediction for a 4-8 record in 2022. I hope not. It is time to become even more competitive so that when USC and UCLA join the Big Ten in two years, RU is ready. How about surprising everybody with a 6-6 mark? 

Dare I dream? I have been suffering with RU football since the early 1960’s, when car rides with my father on Saturdays were accompanied by WCTC-AM, 1450 on your dial. Or hearing the occasional cannon blast from Rutgers Stadium when the home team scored. I still love to watch the Scarlet Knight ride his horse inside the stadium. 

If you knew any better, you would think I am a RU alum. Alas, I am not. Just a lifetime big fan fan. Who wants his team to stop the suffering he endures during football season.

Speaking of Delaware, our trip took us to Newark, DE (pronounced New-ARK), home of the University of Delaware Fightin’ Blue Hens. Much has changed on campus, and the athletic complex is no stranger to that upheaval. The football stadium looks the same, but has lights. There is a new basketball arena, yet the field house is still where it was 50 years ago. 

I never saw Delaware play football, either in Newark or in Piscataway. From 1955 through 1973, Rutgers and Delaware met 15 times. The Blue Hens won 9 of those meetings, some very convincingly (I actually thought they had won more, as Delaware was a mighty small college power and Rutgers was still seeking to be more than it was then). 

Football wasn’t only in my thoughts when I drove by the school. I saw two basketball games at Delaware. The first was in 1972, when American University came to town. Kermit Washington, who was a star in college and went on to play for the Lakers in the NBA and infamously sucker punched Rudy Tomjanovich, was someone I was sort of friendly with when I worked out in the American U gym while attending the Washington Semester Program in the Fall of 1971. 

I went to the game, a rout in favor of the Eagles, and I briefly saw Kermit come out of the Field House and greet his  cheerleader girlfriend who remembered me. Kermit kind of recalled me from the gym, after a small promt by her. 

My second time inside of the Field House was when RU visited. This was the 1974-75 team, one year away from the NCAA Final Four. RU won big, and somehow somebody knew somebody, and I was in the RU locker room. I saw Phil Sellers, RU’s great player, a very loud assistant coach named Dick Vitale, and head man Tom Young. Young had been coaching American in 1972. 

Just a few asides before I stop blathering. Nick Saban garnered a contract extension at Alabama worth at least $93.6 million for the next eight years. Besides the outrageousness of the bounty, it would be noted that he is not the most well-known member of his high school football team. That would be Senator Joe Manchin (D-WV), who is fairly rich himself and they are close friends. Two guys from Monongah, West Virginia who are always in the news. 

And how about those Yankees? Who said they were dead? Not Manager Aaron Boone, who threw a fit and awoke the sleeping giant. With wins against Toronto and the Mets, three games with the final score 4-2 (I wonder if that ever happened before) and then a 13-4 pasting of the A’s in Oakland, it seems Aaron Judge (who slugged his 49th homer and drove in all 3 runs in Friday night’s 3-2 victory behind the stellar pitching of ace Gerrit Cole, raising number 99’s season total to 109) and his mates have a small bit of swagger back. 

Still, there should be a fair amount of caution, I note that top pitcher Nestor Cortes, Jr. went on the IL, the Yankees still don’t have an identifiable closer, and with 36 games left, the Rays and Blue Jays are within striking distance. Don’t get too comfortable, Yankees fans. 

Lastly, while lamenting that another year is passing and I still have five more home ballparks to reach, I recognized the following achievement. I have seen each of the 30 MLB teams on the road. Not very shabby.

That’s it. I’m done reminiscing and ruminating. For now. 

I Guess I Think Differently

I was away for three days. In that time, the New York Yankees managed to lose three more games. That’s 14 losses in 19 games. From a team which had been running away from the opposition.

The hitting has been anemic. Aaron Judge is no longer chasing Roger Maris’ 61 home runs mark. Instead of staying red hot, he has cooled to Ice Age proportions. He epitomizes the team’s struggles. 

The pitching has soured. Ever since trading Jordan Montgomery to St. Louis (where he is absolutely thriving), the starting pitching has been spotty. Moreover, the relief pitching manages to take winnable games and blow them up with shoddy performances. 

In essence, the team is playing like the worst team in the major leagues. Which would have been unfathomable to think before the All-Star break. 

Normally placid manager Aaron Boone has become increasingly frustrated. At a Saturday press conference, he banged on a table, expressing a belief in his team while knowing they are mired in a prolonged slump which seemingly has no end date. 

Who is to blame? The manager? The coaching staff? The players, who have not played with intensity or fire, according to Judge? 

Regardless of who is to blame, it is very disheartening for Yankees fans who had covetously eyed the 28th World Championship for their club. With good reason, until this slew of losses grew to epic proportions. 

Yankees fans are boisterous, especially ebullient when their team is winning. When the team is in the dumps, they are loud and nasty. Especially to those players who are woefully underperforming—like outfielder Aaron Hicks who is mired in a season-long slump. 

Those Yankees supporters knew that this team couldn’t really be as good as the championship teams of the 1990’s. So the expectation was that this group would come back to earth and play like mortals. Just not with such a resounding thud.

On Sunday, the Yanks managed not to be swept at home by Toronto, winning 4-2 and showing a bit of resilience. Nonetheless, this was the sixth straight series the team has lost, a debacle that hadn’t happened since 1990. 

The Yankees held their own today with Nestor Cortes on the mound. They didn’t overwhelm Blue Jays’ starter Alex Manoah, an All-Star like Cortes. Is this a sign that the Yankees are coming back to life? They’d better, as they are on tap to face the Mets, who roared back against the Phillies to win 10-9 and are playing as well as any team in baseball right now, for two games at Yankee Stadium on Monday and Tuesday. With the Mets throwing their pair of aces, Max Scherzer and Jacob deGrom in the two game set. 

After this, the Yankees head out to the West Coast. A long road trip can either heal this team or worsen the situation. Die hards like me are hoping that when the calendar reaches September the Yankees are back on track. 

Last week, the second Field of Dreams game was played between the Reds and Cubs. A low scoring affair, it still is magnificent to watch the players come out of the cornstalks or, for the opening, to watch Ken Griffey, Sr. and Ken Griffey, Jr. play catch. 

Because there will be renovations to the stadium site, there will be no third Field of Dreams game. Instead MLB is heading to London and Paris for the next round of special regular season contests. 

Which made me think of reasonable alternatives which might draw interest. How about having teams which left a city head back to their original locales and host a game there? For instance, the Orioles returning to St. Louis to become the Browns for one night and play the Cardinals as the home team. Or the A’s coming back to Philadelphia and meeting the Phillies. How about the Dodgers and Giants take over Citi Field for a four game series and wear the caps and uniforms of yesteryear? I came up with 10 types of matchups which would be a remembrance of baseball’s past.

Want some other neat ideas? How about games in baseball towns like Evansville or Memphis, with iconic minor league ballparks? Or at Hinchliffe Stadium in Paterson, a Negro League site? Maybe on a college campus—a military academy might work here—or Omaha, the home of the College World Series? Choose an exotic locale with baseball roots like Alaska and Cape Cod, both which host summer leagues for collegians? Try some of the expansion possibilities such as Las Vegas, Charlotte, Louisville and New Orleans? 

If the Field of Dreams, the London series between the Yankees and Red Sox and the MLB Little League Classic are such huge successes, baseball needs to take a cue from this and offer different ideas to stoke the interest of all sorts of fans. I encourage those in charge at MLB  think outside the box and make events like these more a staple of the schedule. Look at the NHL with their stadium games. The NFL in Europe and Mexico. Sounds logical to me. 

My wife and I traveled to New Orleans to drive our daughter’s car back to New Jersey. I couldn’t help but think of the sports and places I was passing through. 

In Newark Airport I saw plenty of kids headed back to Tulane. Wearing a ton of green for the Green Wave. A few others wore Saints merchandise. 

Traveling into Mississippi, we drove by Hattiesburg. Plenty of billboards promoting the University of Southern Mississippi. We saw a number of vehicles with Ole Miss or Mississippi State stickers of license plate holders adorning them. 

In Alabama, it wasn’t just the Crimson Tide of the University of Alabama. While in the vast majority, we did see signs for the University of Alabama-Birmingham. Go Blazers. Zilch for Auburn.

When you enter Tennessee, you are in UT-Chattanooga territory. For a while. The rest of the time, it was almost all Volunteers orange for the University of Tennessee. 

We did see signs for East Tennessee State in Johnson City. Tennessee Tech, too. 

Heading north, we passed by the twin cities of Bristol, Tennessee and Bristol, Virginia. Which always makes me think of that 1 mile oval at the Bristol Motor Speedway, a regular stop of NASCAR. Believe it or not, Santana and Earth, Wind and Fire were going to play there on Friday night when we passed by.

In Virginia, I could recall seeing signs for smaller colleges like Emory and Henry, Virginia Wesleyan, Roanoke, Bridgewater, Mary Baldwin and Lynchburg. The bigger boys were represented by Virginia Tech and UVA. We passed right by Radford, Shenandoah and through  James Madison University, a growing campus since I first set eyes on it heading down I-81 in 2006. 

In Pennsylvania, we saw signs for Shippensburg, Dickinson, Kutztown, Muhlenberg, Cedar Crest, Lebanon Valley, Lehigh and Lafayette. That’s along I-81 until it branches off to I-78. 

I saw t-shirts for LSU, Penn State. I saw signs for other locations like Lexington, Kentucky, home of those Kentucky Wildcats. Or Memphis, Nashville, Charlotte, Atlanta and Washington, D.C., all homes to pro sports teams and more colleges. 

Sure, the scenery was excellent. To a sports-saturated mind like mine, whether it is about the game I love—baseball—and the team I adore, or college and pro sports, I guess I  think differently. 

A Requiem

While I remain in my “rest” period from discussing (or watching) the New York Yankees, there are a three topics worth mentioning.

First is the death of Bill Russell. The iconic center of the Boston Celtics was the first legitimate black star in the NBA, and among the many accolades and achievements he accumulated during his basketball career, was a two-time NCAA champion while at the University of San Francisco and an Olympian.  

There is little doubt that he is one of the greatest basketball players EVER. Period. He would make my personal NBA Mt. Rushmore, which would consist of Russell, Kareem-Abdul Jabbar, Steph Curry and Michael Jordan. (For the record, Larry Bird was next in line) He would also make my College Basketball Mt. Rushmore—again with Abdul-Jabbar, Bill Bradley and Bill Walton. (Oscar Robinson and Pete Maravich were fifth and sixth) These are my favorites, not necessarily the best of all time, for favorable arguments can be made for Lebron James, Kobe Bryant, David Thompson and Magic Johnson among others. 

I grew up watching the Sunday afternoon NBA telecasts on ABC. Invariably, it would be Philadelphia’s giant of a man, Wilt Chamberlain, and his team facing Russell’s Celtics. Usually on the parquet floor of the smoke-filled Boston Garden—a place I would see in color in the years after Russell stopped playing and when I sat alone for a Buffalo Braves-Celtics matchup in 1976. 

Those teams were replete with stars whose careers were Hall of Fame caliber. It seemed like Russell somehow outplayed Chamberlain almost every time, especially in the playoffs. His early Celtics teams had more trouble with Bob Pettit and the St. Louis Hawks, going 1-1 against the man from LSU and his mates. 

Whoever the Celts faced, with Russell manning the center position, the team was always in the contest. He didn’t have to score a ton. His presence was immense on defense and in rebounding. Bill Russell was one smart man on a basketball court. So much so that he became the logical successor to the Celtics’ acerbic head coach, Arnold (Red) Auerbach. 

Mr. Russell was also very principled. So much has been written about his time in a very racist Boston, where he kept on winning yet was vilified for being black and sharing his beliefs in a racially-charged environment in a city which was largely white and in a country which was struggling to figure out how to end segregation. 

He never wavered in his thoughts and opinions. Even if shared by few where he lived and worked. 

Bill Russell was a man among men. This applied to individuals of all colors, faiths and ideologies. This man was a legend. Our country needs more like Bill Russell. He will be sorely missed. 

The NBA has done the right thing in decreeing that number 6 will not be worn anew by any player. His number will be seen in every arena as a vivid reminder of who Bill Russell was and what he stood for.

Another legendary person died this past week. Vincent Edward Scully, born in the Bronx, a graduate of Fordham University, and from 1950 to 2016, the voice of the Brooklyn/Los Angeles Dodgers first on the radio, and then on TV, too. 

To Angelenos,  he was baseball. His melodious voice was poetry over a transistor radio in the early days of the Dodgers relocation to Los Angeles. How many children have stories of listening to Dodgers broadcasts while under the covers on a school night, hearing Scully lyrically describe the action in a way that they could actually visualize what was happening? 

Scully was more than a regional celebrity. He was a national voice for the big baseball games, a familiar face on NFL telecasts, and he somehow made golf that much more remarkable. If you were a sports fan, you knew who Vince Scully was from his subtle tones and pertinent commentary. 

Vince Scully made the obvious special.  Vince Scully changed the incredible to sublime. 

Scully was the last of a spectacular group of men who brought baseball into homes in the halcyon days of the 1950’s and 60’s, when television had not quite taken over as the medium for the game. Such a treasure, he easily transitioned from vocalist on radio to the emcee on TV. 

If you were looking for somebody to emulate in the broadcasting business, it was one Vincent Edward Scully. Many have tried to imitate. He was an original.  

The third topic is the seven part ESPN series entitled The Captain. This was an authorized version into the life of Derek Jeter, the Hall of Fame shortstop of the New York Yankees, which concluded on Thursday night.

Let’s get this disclaimer out of the way. I loved Derek Jeter as a player. He was my favorite Yankee. This is from a man who does not try to miss an Aaron Judge at bat and learned how to switch hit by copying Mickey Mantle’s swing from both sides of the plate. 

The guy was the ultimate competitor. Sure, he was blessed with extraordinary athletic skills. Yet those skills paled in comparison with other shortstops and sluggers. 

It was his drive to win which separated Jeter from other mortals. Derek Jeter was a leader and his teammates followed his lead. Which is why the mercurial owner of the Yankees, George Steinbrenner, butted heads with Jeter and respected him enough to make him the real team voice in the Yankees clubhouse. 

This documentary was carefully crafted. One of the Executive Producers was Casey Close, Jeter’s long time agent. So you knew that what you got to see was exactly what Derek Jeter wanted you to see, even where there might have been dicey parts—like his vacillating relationship with Alex Rodriguez, a fellow shortstop and later a Yankees teammate.

On the heels of an earlier look at the life of Michael Jordan, it was clear to see that they are friends. That is because they have a fierceness to them, one which demanded absolute “loyalty,” which was the word Jeter used to define his relations with others. 

The incongruous divulgence of Jeter’s private life was in stark contrast to his deflection of the media when he played. Like Jordan, Jeter was no angel. He frequently cursed when providing his views on subjects before the documentary’s cameras. 

It was plain to see that Derek Jeter was first and foremost a baseball player. He had his opinions, much of which he kept to himself. Jeter had more friends than enemies, but it was clear who they were—GM Brian Cashman famously was one of those who went into combat with Jeter and could no longer be trusted. 

If you haven’t watched the series and you are a fan of baseball, I suggest that you do so. You will form your own opinion of the man whom the Yankees fans refer to as “The Captain.” Whatever conclusions you draw, I think this is apparent—I hope Derek Jeter is as successful in his future ventures as he was on the ball field. 

That’s it. Three men whose paths probably crossed a number of times, even if they operated in separate environments. 

A requiem for a center, a broadcaster and the man called The Captain. 

I May Need A Rest From The Yankees

Thankfully Thursday was an off day for the New York Yankees and for me. The last week has been way too much to fathom and I need a rest. And with the dog days of August comes a 9 game road trip to St. Louis and Seattle, both hunting for a Wild Card spot in their leagues, and a cross-country flight to Boston where, suddenly, the Red Sox have come out of their mysterious slump which has placed them at the bottom of the AL East. 

Here’s what has caused me to need a small break from my favorite sport. But I need to start with the good stuff first.

Aaron Judge. Let me repeat that name. Aaron Judge. This is the guy who rejected the Yankees’ significant offer in the spring and bet on himself. 43 homers and 91 R.B.I. later, with  a batting average around .300 with under 60 games left in the season, he is the July AL Player of the Month, largely from being the AL Player of the Week for two consecutive weeks. 

During the streak of home runs and run-scoring hits, Judge has been so much fun to watch. Taking an old phrase from NBC about their TV shows, Aaron Judge’s at bats have become “Must See TV.”

He is more than just a swinger for the fences. Besides his monstrous homers, number 99 makes pitchers work to try to get him out. 

Moreover, he steals bases and is an excellent fielder with a cannon for an arm. Sounds like a classic 5 tool player. One who, because of his height and his impact on the game, towers over his peers. 

Former Washington Nationals outfielder Juan Soto, the reigning Home Run Derby champ, got his wish to leave D.C. He is  heading to a contender where he can make a case  to be the first player to make $500 million with his next contract—whether it will be with San Diego, his new employers or another team with lots of cash. 

While I wish Soto success with the Padres, which is now a pretty loaded offensive team with the likes of Manny Machado and Fernando Tatis, Jr., when the latter returns from injury, they still have to overcome the Los Angeles Dodgers, a team which is making mincemeat of the NL West, including San Diego. 

Soto’s trade impacts Judge. If Soto, at age 23, could make that astronomical sum, what will Aaron Judge be worth when the season concludes and he hits the free agent market if the Yankees don’t immediately commence negotiations? 

I don’t care that Judge is 30 years old. If he is seeking a ridiculous contract in the order of 10 years in length, that might become an impediment. 

What if Judge continues this incredible season and ends it with more than 61 homers, establishing the franchise record held by Roger Maris and surpassing Babe Ruth’s 60 home runs in 154 games in the process? Are the Yankees prepared to let him go? And is he worth $40 million a year? 

While I am smitten with Judge and his 2022 season thus far, the Yankees are in a funk. The team misses slugger Giancarlo Stanton in the lineup. The hitting has been, for lack of a better term, hit or miss for most of the lineup, with the exception of first baseman Anthony Rizzo, who went on a mini-tear during Judge’s hot streak. I think All Star catcher Jose Trevino has also excelled and DJ LeMahieu has raised his average to the .290 range hitting in front of Judge. 

Pitching has been so so. Only Nestor Cortes, Jr. seems to be pitching like he did for much of the year. Gerrit Cole is getting rocked more often. Ditto Jameson Taillon. Luis Severino’s fragile arm is being so over protected that he was placed on the 60 day IL. And even Clay Holmes, once lights out as a closer, has had some mind-boggling outings, including blowing a win against the lowly Royals on Sunday. 

This is a team that is struggling mightily to keep afloat when it faces worthy opposition. Seattle, a true Wild Card contender, couldn’t beat Houston, but took two of three in the Bronx. The Mariners simply hit better, fielded better and pitched better. Reminiscent of the Mets series?

GM Brian Cashman made trades at the trading deadline to shore up some of the team’s glaring deficiencies. Who would have thought that would happen when the Yankees were stomping on whomever they played? 

Let’s dissect the Anthony Benintendi trade. Good hitter, not tremendous power, and a very adequate left fielder. 

Except that Benintendi has absolutely been horrible. So horrible that Joey Gallo, who, mercifully for him and the team, was traded into a good situation with the Dodgers, seems like a better fit. 

When the trade was effectuated, Benintendi was hitting .320. Now he is at .305. Plus he is striking out much more—he had a three strikeout game this week against the Mariners. 

Without his offense, relying on the others besides the top three of Judge, LeMahieu and Rizzo is indicative of why the team is very average. 

Cashman went out and secured Oakland right hander Frankie Montas to plug a hole in the rotation. We will have to wait until Sunday in St. Louis to see if Montas is as good as advertised.

Additionally, Cashman obtained righty reliever Scott Effross from the Cubs and former Oakland closer Lou Trivino. This might soften the workload of a stretched out pitching staff, one where innings aren’t being eaten up by the starters. 

In his final, head-scratching move, lefty starter Jordan Montgomery was shockingly sent to the Cardinals in exchange for an outfielder, Harrison Bader, who is reportedly a very fine fielding center fielder. When he isn’t suffering from plantar fasciitis and has his foot in a boot, like he does now. Sure, there is either a player to be named later or cash was a part of the deal, but really, the Yankees have reviewed the medicals and are confident that Bader will be ready in a couple of weeks? When they need batters who can hit and help now? 

Let’s face it—Houston made trades that made them even better. Seattle did, too, picking up the top pitcher, Luis Castillo, who promptly shut down the Bombers. Atlanta, San Diego, the Dodgers, Philadelphia all became more formidable with trades. And the Mets have former Cy Young Award winner Jacob deGrom back and throwing over 100 mph. Somehow, the Yankees don’t seem as fearsome. 

Another thing set me off this week regarding the Yankees. There were comments by Gallo to a reporter relating to his stay in New York. As hard as the 28 year old worked to regain the form that made him a feared slugger in Texas—even with strikeouts still a part of his resume—on the field it didn’t work out for him. 

It is my understanding that his teammates really liked him, his work ethic and his demeanor. That’s great to hear. 

Because what he said about living in Manhattan was absolutely chilling. With his poor performance and the savagery of the Yankees’ fans who booed him unmercifully, Joey Gallo was afraid of venturing from his apartment, lest he receive more ridicule.  

Look, I know that he is receiving a ton of money and hasn’t produced. Is it right to go after him when he is living his life apart from the game? Perhaps if he hadn’t retreated so in New York as a result of this kind of treatment, he might still be a part of the team and perhaps a better player than Benintendi has shown thus far. Who will be the next target of Yankees fans—real soon.

Watching the Yankees has raised my level of angst. I have no great comfort level for post-season success. Dreams of 120 wins have been dashed. 100 wins might be hard to achieve the way things are going. Especially with that daunting road trip to St. Louis, Seattle and then to arch-rival Boston. 

Hard to believe that a team with a 70-37 record has its season in the balance. Which is one reason why I feel I may need a respite from the Yankees.