Tropical Weather Trumps Bad Baseball

  I didn’t think I would open with a hurricane named Hilary. Stop your snickering right now, my politically savvy friends. While she may have made an appearance on television with MSNBC’s Rachel Maddow on the night former President Donald J. Trump was indicted by a Georgia grand jury related to the 2020 elections, that is not the Hilary I am referring to. 

Nope, this is a real nasty Pacific hurricane, one that will certainly ratchet up to a Category 4 storm, and it may even reach Cat 5 strength before landfall somewhere between the Baja Peninsula and the Southern California coast. If it makes landfall in the United States, this will be the first time that a storm of this magnitude will affect Southern California since 1939. 

While the storm will weaken as it gets nearer to the colder Pacific water off the Southern California coast, the impact of the storm has prompted the National Weather Service to take the unheard of step of issuing a Tropical Storm watch for the area. It is projected that, in addition to wind, copious amounts of rain will drench California, Arizona and Nevada, where the states will be ill-equipped to handle the runoff. Having been on the freeways of Orange County in the rain, Southern Californians are not good wet weather drivers. 

Having stated all of this, and in spite my being a bit of a weather geek, I know that I am writing a sports blog.  While the weather on the East Coast will finally be nice and without humidity this weekend, there are a number of games to be played out West which will be impacted by the approaching storm. 

Hurricane Hilary picked a jackpot weekend for it to hit Southern California. It is rare enough to have a tropical cyclone strike the West Coast. Just like it is rare that the three SoCal baseball teams will be home this weekend. Plus the Chargers have a Sunday night exhibition game with the Saints at SoFi Stadium, which may be covered overhead, but has its sides open for ventilation. 

I am certain that the National Football League is carefully monitoring the situation—probably as much and Dr. Greg Postel, Mike Seidel and Jim Cantore of The Weather Channel already are. Undoubtedly, Major League Baseball and the Padres, Angels and Dodgers organizations are on top of the weather forecasts. 

At least the Saints and Chargers engaged in joint practices this week in Costa Mesa. If the pre-season game needs to be canceled, there was some meaningful work conducted with an opponent. 

I believe that the storm will reach San Diego first, by Saturday night. Anaheim currently has a 50% chance of rain for Saturday night. Los Angeles should escape the rain on Saturday night. 

What makes the baseball games more important is that there is a pennant race and a chase for the Wild Card spots. The Dodgers are streaking while it is more of a long shot for the Padres and/or Angels to reach the post-season. 

Moreover, the teams that the Angels and Dodgers are playing are the Rays and Marlins. Isn’t that highly ironic that the two Florida teams, residing in a state synonymous with tropical weather, will be impacted by that exact phenomenon on the West Coast. And Tampa Bay is chasing the Baltimore Orioles in the AL East, while Florida is deep in the NL Wild Card hunt. 

I don’t know how this will all play out. Grounds crews normally have difficulty in terrible conditions. The number of home rainouts for the Padres since the franchise began play in 1969 is 18, with 3 at Petco Park, the last in 2017 versus the Dodgers. (Another irony?) 

    We must not forget that in 1990 at Jack Murphy Stadium, the Padres’ previous home, on that infrequent occasion when the ground crew went to roll out the tarp, they encountered a family of skunks which had migrated from the nearby San Diego River to a location which was almost never touched.  Of course, there is always the danger of the tarp consuming a grounds crew member like it did in Cincinnati in July.

That is a location where rain is more prevalent. One would have expected that they practice and have experience with unrolling the tarp in a rainstorm. I dare say that the amount of knowledge about rain in San Diego is far less, allowing for greater danger to the crew. 

There may have to be some creative scheduling to avoid the rain or to make up any games. San Diego plays the Arizona Diamondbacks this weekend. Arizona is home on Monday night against Texas, but how the weather impacts the Phoenix area is uncertain. 

Then the Padres host the Marlins beginning on Monday, depending on what happens and how the team can get down to San Diego. The Dodgers leave the area for a series in Cleveland starting on Tuesday. The Angels open a set with the Reds on Monday. The home teams may be further impacted by the weather into next week. 

Whatever happens, expect a nightmare for games, travel and for the fans, with anticipated mudslides and other natural disasters occurring. My mind is so deviant that I even thought what if an earthquake took place in the midst of the stormy weather? I truly hope not. 

Who knew this could be a reality in beautiful Southern California. I am not going to blame global warming for this occurrence. It is certainly an El Niño year with a warmer-than-average surface water temperature and reduced trade winds fueling significant Pacific weather events like this hurricane and the one partly responsible for the damage in Maui. 

Domed stadiums can leak—that happened in New Orleans. SoFi Stadium had rain coming inside during the recent College Football Playoff National Championship. Plus games in Houston have been postponed when the rainfall outside of the stadium created a dangerous situation. Besides, the weather in Southern California does not warrant a dome for almost every season. 

Maybe the ominous forecasts will be for naught. Perhaps all of the games can be moved up so that they can be played without the havoc that the storm could wreak. That would be a best case scenario. Squeezing in make up games this late in the season with the attendant travel will not be easy.  

Normally, the on air personalities at The Weather Channel would be having a segment named “Eye on the Tropics.” Instead, their eyes will be focused on the Mexican and Southern California coasts as well as significantly inland. 

Who would have thought that? Shouldn’t the baseball world be watching the Red Sox and Yankees battle for three games in the Bronx? 

The greatest rivalry in baseball. A packed Yankee Stadium, with rabid fans screaming their lungs out with choice obscenities, while cheering loudly for the home team. Aaron Judge and Gerrit Cole taking on the hated Bostonians, with Rafael Devers  hitting and Chris Sale on the mound. History in the making once more. Does it get any better than this?

Not this weather person. Tropical weather trumps bad baseball. 

Sports Can Wait Another Day

  If you know me, you know I love sports. Olympic sports through the NFL,  watching a pick up soccer game to the NBA Finals. That’s me. That’s who I am. 

Sure, there is a lot more about me which I do not discuss. Isn’t that the way it is with us all? I hope some hidden parts come out occasionally in my writing. After all, this is primarily a sports blog, with an absence of politics for good reason. Again, it’s my views, which you can share or not agree with. That’s your choice. 

As you might know, I have a penchant for college campuses and athletic fields, professional sports venues, along with state capitol buildings and State Supreme Courts. Just as much as I love picturesque scenery and state and national parks. After all, in my 72 plus years of life, I have been to all 50 states, many more than once. 

Being the stadium/arena freak that I am, I have walked into a number of venues, talked my way into more (the old Charlotte Coliseum; Stanford Stadium with the help of my daughter) and even shot hoops in a few (Princeton, Rutgers and Clemson); run on legendary football fields (Clemson, Auburn, Georgia Tech, Rutgers and more); or walked on baseball fields used by MLB players (the original Yankee Stadium and the spring training homes of the Mets and Phillies).

Wherever I am and I can drive by, look in or go inside a stadium or gym, I will do it. I get a sense of being there. I can identify with TV broadcasts, knowing where I was—even if a game was not in progress. 

I do that with cities or even broad landscapes. I try to soak in the moment—where I am and what it means to me and countless others. 

I was awed when I went to Wrigley Field and Dodger Stadium. Cathedrals of the baseball world. Being inside of Notre Dame Stadium, Ohio Stadium and Michigan Stadium left lasting impressions. Despite not having anyone else but family, a few tourists and maintenance men parading around. 

I have been inside every professional sports building in Philadelphia. Heck, I went to Talladega Motor Speedway in Alabama because I was nearby. I used to peer into Dover Downs en route to my legislative internship at the Delaware State Senate. The list is seemingly endless—although I have not yet made it to three MLB venues (I have driven by Fenway Park; rode by Busch Stadium while the 1966 All Star Game was in progress; and peered into the old Kansas City Municipal Stadium when the A’s called it home).

Yosemite and Yellowstone. Been there. Mt. St. Helens—yes indeed. The Grand Canyon—twice. I’ve gone down rapids on a raft on the Rogue River in Oregon. I have done plenty of walking on scenic Long Beach Island. My family and I walked across the Mississippi River as it empties out of Lake Itasca in Minnesota. And I have seen all of the Great Lakes close up. 

Yet one of the more unique side trips I ever took was to go inside of an iconic little gym in the middle of paradise. That would be the Lahaina Civic Center, the home of the Maui Invitational. 

It was a beautiful day on Maui when I told my wife we had to go inside. To me, it was a pilgrimage like going to the Dean Dome in Chapel Hill, Duke’s Cameron Indoor Stadium, or Pauley Pavilion at UCLA. Which I have done. 

The building is nondescript. It can easily be confused for a CYO gym in New Jersey. Except it is the home of the greatest college basketball trip for coaches and players of the greatest teams. So much history has been written there. After all, who wouldn’t want to go to Maui for some basketball and adventures that will last for a lifetime?

Until this week. The wildfires which consumed Lahaina took away the signature beauty of one of the most scenic places I have ever been to. My cousin and her family love Maui. So does mine. There is little to compare the majesty of Maui within the U.S.

Now the place where I last visited in 2021 is scorched to the ground in many spots. So much has been lost. Lives have been overturned or tragically ended. 

I have countless memories of my times on Maui, with a bevy of pictures on my cameras and in my mind. The word picturesque is not overused for that island. 

The wildfires are not yet contained. More damage and loss of life will occur. I cry tears for what has happened and will continue until the last ember is mercifully doused, albeit way too late. 

When I returned in 2021, I drove past the Lahaina Civic Center. But I did not go inside this time. I wanted to keep my memories intact. Which they still are. 

I can see the baskets hanging from the rafters, not unlike a high school gym. I remember the mural at one end of the building, seeing it repeatedly when ESPN telecasted from there. I wished I could shoot a basketball, but none was available. I was standing on a basketball court which seemed larger than life. 

For now, the Lahaina Civic Center remains upright. But not out of danger. It is way too early to think about the 2023 Maui Invitational coming to town. Who knows what the infrastructure will be like—if reports are true, it is highly improbable that the island will be able to support the week of fun and hoops; certainly the downtown area has been utterly destroyed. 

Hawaiians are resilient. They live over five hours away from California and have established their own way of life, their own idiosyncrasies over centuries, to survive and flourish. 

Now they must rebuild. The ecosystem has been demolished and will take years to regrow. Tourism, the major industry of the island, will be virtually non-existent for an undetermined time. 

I am so sad for what has happened on Maui. While I have my pictures to console me and the images of the Lahaina Civic Center etched in my brain, I grieve for all that has been lost. 

Yes, I will continue to watch sports and pursue stadiums and colleges I have not visited. 

Come November, I will once more think of Maui, whether the Maui Invitational is played in its rightful home, or on the mainland as it was in 2020 due to COVID. 

Once more I will shed tears for all that was taken away in a flash. This week, it is not the time for me to discuss the woes of the Yankees, Aaron Rodgers or even the pitching gem authored by the Phillies’ Michael Lorenzen. My mind is wrapped around Maui and the devastation which has the focus of the world. 

For now, sports can wait another day.

Going Somewhere Else Seems To Be In Vogue

  Another unraveling and reshaping of the college athletics landscape is taking place. With the end result not yet in sight. 

What predicated this seismic shifting of the collegiate alignments? Money, of course.

The rich—namely the Southeastern Conference and the Big Ten—have the most in the pot, with plenty more headed to their individual coffers. Then there is the enigmatic Big 12 Conference, flush with its own new media deal and ready to pounce on a carcass.

That carcass belongs to the Pac !2 Conference. Which is falling apart at the seams because the TV rights deal that its commissioner secured was a pittance compared to that of the big boys. 

The first real crack in the Pac 12 came when the biggest schools in the biggest market—the University of Southern California and the University of California, Los Angeles—were courted by the East Coast and Midwestern monolith: the Big Ten. With the megabucks that the Big Ten will receive in its media rights deal, it caught the attention of the SoCal schools which harbor aspirations of playing for national championships. 

The desire of the Big Ten to be bi-coastal and the lure of the money for the two interested schools led to a nice marriage. But they weren’t the first schools to leave home in the latest rounds of conference swapping. 

The award for abandoning their domain and leaving their longtime rivals behind went to the University of Texas and the University of Oklahoma. Those two long-standing opponents who seemingly are tied to the hip, joined the SEC for the money and to restore glory to their programs. All the partners in the SEC were ecstatic to have these schools join their ranks in 2024. Once again, money talks. 

When the rights deal for the Pac 12 was not coming across fast enough, the members became jittery. The University of Colorado, always an odd fit in the Pac 12 along with the University of Utah, saw greener pastures in its old home—the Big 12. The University of Arizona, another add on in the Pac 12 besides the actual West Coast members, became more cautious about its future. And whatever Arizona did, Arizona State would do the same, since they were tied together in the Arizona Board of Regents (Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff is the third public university under the control of the ABOR).

Thus, this week the skies opened up. Colorado, already approved for Big 12 membership, now has been joined by Arizona State and Utah. Suddenly, the Big 12 has 16 schools in its ranks. 

The other part of the equation as to why the Big 12 swelled so suddenly came from the suddenly ravenous Big Ten. Before the trio of schools became Big 12 members on Friday, it was the Big Ten which plucked the University of Oregon and the University of Washington from the Pac 12. 

Sure there was concern about the travel which the Southern California schools would endure. Not such a problem anymore with the two new additions. I can see three divisions in the Big Ten if it stays with this number—18. The Western schools plus Iowa and Nebraska could form one division. Put Rutgers, Penn State, Maryland and Ohio State with the Michigan schools and that’s a nice division. The Indiana and Illinois members could group with Minnesota and Wisconsin. Easy to create a nine game conference football schedule, along with  a terrific basketball schedule. 

I heard that USC wanted to be away from Oregon, which has tormented the Trojans in football. I think that the reduction of travel and monetary costs coupled with the big infusion of cash can eradicate any bad feelings. 

What will happen with the Pac 12? All that is left right now are the University of California, Stanford University, Oregon State University and Washington State University. There remain persistent rumors that Cal and Stanford could be in the Big Ten fold, having already been vetted. That would be twenty schools. A behemoth. With maybe the Western Athletic Conference, a step down from what the Pac 12 was, will be the landing spot for WSU and OSU—and the Bears and the Cardinal. 

But this conference switching might not be over yet. Florida State is very unhappy with the money it received from the Atlantic Coast Conference. It is paltry compared to SEC money. Clemson, another football giant, is apparently thinking the same thing. Would the SEC schools be willing to take in two top-notch football programs and share the wealth

What’s more, where does Notre Dame, that hybrid independent, fit into the scheme of conference realignment? The Irish have that funky tie in with the ACC for football and is imbedded for all other sports. What may stop any of these money seekers is the agreement which binds them to the ACC into the next decade unless any school is ready to pay an exorbitant exit fee for their freedom to find a better landing spot. Until funding sources (boosters, the Saudis) can be found to pay off the ACC. 

The ACC will survive with a loss of Clemson and Florida State. Even if Notre Dame leaves, too. Connecticut, the orphan football program within Big East Conference, where it is as dominant as ever in basketball—the Huskies are reigning NCAA Men’s champs—would love to be member and rake in the dollars.  

No, a lot more is going to happen in college sports. It is sad to see the rivalries developed over years fold like a house of cards. I saw that with Texas and Texas A&M when the Aggies left the Big 12 for the SEC. Now that rivalry will be reignited. However, Oklahoma and Oklahoma State will not be battling for state-wide supremacy anymore after this season—although it is the Sooners which have dominated the series. Ditto Oregon-Oregon State and Washington-Washington State. Done. Just like it will be with Cal and Stanford with the newly-minted Big Ten schools after decades of playing. 

There is no collegiate governing body which oversees these kinds of conference switches. For if there was, this discussion would not be happening. 

Switching from college to the pros, the New York Yankees came under fire for not being more active at the trading deadline. GM Brian Cashman traded for two relievers, one of which will be a decent addition to one of the top bullpens in baseball. 

Not addressed was the anemic hitting lineup, with poor defenders at the corner outfield spots. Nor was starting pitching bolstered, with Cashman relying on the return of lefty Nestor Cortes this weekend. Plus the weakness at catcher went unresolved. 

Cashman said that this team, 3.5 games out of an AL Wild Card slot at the start of the week, was a group of professionals which needs to play better. Really? How?

Giancarlo Stanton may be starting to hit homers again. He is remains a liability. Aaron Judge is back, yet it is clear he is hindered by his toe ligament injured against the unforgiving concrete at Dodger Stadium. While Harrison Bader, Isiah Kiner-Falefa and Gleyber Torres have been hitting of late, that trio does not inspire fear in too many pitchers. 

Then there are the two debacles which took place this week. First, Domingo German, he of the perfect game heroics, trashed the clubhouse in a drunken rage. He is gone for the season, receiving the treatment he needs for his substance abuse addiction. 

Adding to German’s untimely exit was the news that Anthony Rizzo has finally been diagnosed with concussion-like symptoms resulting from his May collision with Fernando Tatis ,Jr. of the Padres. Whether it was the suspect Yankees medical staff, which has seen numerous players land on the IL for long stints, missing the obvious signs that Rizzo could no longer hit with any power and was missing pitches he should clobber, or Rizzo not fessing up about how he really felt, this is a tragic scenario for a beloved Yankee. 

Who knows if the medication prescribed by a neurologist will work? Hockey and football players have had to retire because of head trauma. Rizzo is 34 in a couple of days. His baseball future is sadly up in the air.

Sure the Yankees beat Houston in the first game of a four game set after losing two of three to Tampa Bay. Judge is going to be periodically rested. Against his desires. The failure of starter Luis Severino to rebound into his previous star-like form will hurt greatly. Moreover, the schedule is not very kind to the Yankees—while facing some teams with worse records—the vast majority of teams sport better records, beginning with the Atlanta Braves. 

Watching this team flounder makes me not want to watch at all. At least it is better than the Mets, who jettisoned top players including future Hall of Fame pitchers Max Scherzer and Justin Verlander. The Mets were just swept by Kansas City, a very bad club—one that the Yankees swept a little over two weeks ago.

Not to worry, Yankees fans. The final three games of the season are in KC. How meaningful will they be? I wouldn’t get my hopes up.

The way things have been going in 2023, maybe the Yankees and Mets could join a new league? Going somewhere else seems to be in vogue.

The Little Boy Is Overjoyed Once More

  I was so fixated on my subjects last week that I missed sharing something. It might sound self-serving, but I believe we can all relate to this.

        On July 17, 1958, a seven year old Mark Sperber went with his father, an established dentist in Edison who had time on his day off, to Yankee Stadium. This was young Mark’s first trip to the Bronx which he could remember. 

        I had discovered baseball at the age of five. First in the backyard of our small Edison home, then when, in 1956 we moved to a dead end street in Highland Park, in an upscale neighborhood. 

        My love affair with the game took hold in Highland Park. I had my Rawlings Charlie Neal glove. Neal was among the handful of black players who played for the Brooklyn Dodgers; I am sure the long defunct Two Guys from Harrison store on Route 18 in East Brunswick had purchased a load of these gloves cheap, knowing that the Dodgers were likely to abandon the East Coast for Southern California. 

I looked for anyone to play catch with—my father, the neighbor who attended New Brunswick High School and would go on to be a cardiologist, or just throw a ball at a wall or in the air. Similarly, I had old broken bats which I used stones to hit into fields adjacent to our property. Anywhere I could, I would play baseball in some form—or what I perceived to be baseball. 

I went to the summer day camp at the high school and evidently the people running it saw my raw ability along with my love to play catch, Whiffle Ball or any other kind of baseball. For somehow, in the Summer of 1958, seven year old Mark joined many older kids on the Police Department Midget League team. As an infielder in a uniform which was way too big.

Another great influence were the Yankees broadcasts on WPIX. Seemingly every game was being shown from Yankee Stadium. Our televisions were black and white models, yet I did not discern the difference; I was color-blind to baseball, I guess. 

Anytime I could watch, I did. With great enthusiasm. You could guess that Mickey Mantle was my favorite player—he was why I learned to switch hit as a batter and wanted to play centerfield. But I knew all of the players on the roster, along with the coaches. And I supplemented my burgeoning knowledge with the paper of the day; The Daily Mirror; The Daily News; The Sunday Times; The Journal-American; and The Home News, the local paper. 

So when my father said we were going to Yankee Stadium, I was overjoyed. I can recall the ride in his 1956 Chrysler, taking the New Jersey Turnpike to its then-terminus at Route 46, which took us to the George Washington Bridge. There was no lower deck; thus the Manhattan skyline gleamed in the not-too far distance. 

I recall that my father went big-time with box seats on the side with the Yankees dugout that cost $3.50 each. What stunned me was the enormity of the ballpark, the cacophony of colors from the awning extending from the roof, to the billboards on the back wall, to the blackness of the outfield walls. The grass was immaculate and the dirt infield had been watered down and looked pristine. 

Then there were the sounds. The legendary Bob Sheppard announced the lineups. The breaking of bags. The cheers and the boos. The smashing of seats. I had never experienced so much beautiful noise. 

The Yankees, in their white pinstripes, hosted the grey-clad Detroit Tigers. Detroit players Harvey Kuenn and Hall of Famer Al Kaline stood out for me, along with left-handed pitcher Billy Hoeft who absorbed the loss.

I saw Mantle single. Catcher Elston Howard hit a homer. Right fielder Hank Bauer had three hits. Art Ditmar, a pitching favorite for my Yankees, pitched well enough to win. Final score: New York 4 Detroit 2. And here began a lifetime addiction to live sporting events. 

Now there is another thing I loved to do as a child. Which has carried on into adulthood. Follow schedules. Whether it was baseball at first, which I would make up my own on Saturday mornings, or other sports, I loved to see how the games would unfold. So much so that I would love to sit down with a schedule maker to see that exactly it takes to put together a logical and coherent plan for a season. 

I was fascinated this week when MLB decided to have some rivalry games on the docket. First and foremost for me was the second part of the Subway Series with the Mets coming to Yankee Stadium for two games. Along with the New York City tussle, Oakland and San Francisco met perhaps the last time in SF as Bay Area rivals; the Cubs and White Sox resumed the Windy City hostilities at Guaranteed Rate Field; Texas’ two teams played in Houston; Miami traveled to St. Petersburg to take on the Rays; and the Braves went from former home Milwaukee to Boston, the franchise’s original location, to take on the Red Sox. 

This weekend’s series have a different flavor for some matchups. The scheduler went with old school meetings in the respective leagues. Original American League franchises New York and Baltimore (St. Louis) and Cleveland And Chicago meet. In the National League, the Reds play the Dodgers; the Cubs journey to St. Louis; and interstate foes Philadelphia and Pittsburgh clash. 

Whoever decided to do this has my gratitude. These are the kind of mid-summer delight which baseball can effectuate, while resonating with the seven year old inside of me.

I get excited when the NHL schedule is distributed, for I know which New Jersey Devils game my son and I will see in Canada. Being a Jets season ticket holder, I want to know how September to January will play out in my life. And with the NBA, I look to see where the Golden State Warriors might be, lest I get the chance to see Steph Curry. Call me a schedule nerd, I guess. 

I also look at Franklin and Marshall College schedules to see when I might see my alma mater in football, men’s basketball and the sport I played while there—baseball. I integrate the F&M contests into the myriad of other sports I watch—Rutgers men’s basketball and baseball.

When the 2023 slate for F&M football was announced this week, I was stunned. No longer were Juniata, Moravian and Susquehanna opponents for the Diplomats. Instead, Kean University, The College of New Jersey and Montclair State University replaced those three schools. It was the first time that the trio had not been on the schedule since 2003. 

F&M usually blasted Juniata; Susquehanna had a rich football history going back to Amos Alonzo Stagg, and they gave the Diplomats trouble in the latter years. Moravian was easy to travel to and the weather usually cooperated in late October or early November, so that was a big personal loss. 

Having added three New Jersey schools, I now had the luxury of two being within very reasonable driving distance—Montclair State this season and Kean next year. Even better than going to the closest opposition schools—Moravian and Muhlenberg. I want to thank the administrators at those schools for being as far-sighted to let the Landmark Conference expand to football for its members, releasing Juniata, Moravian and Susquehanna, while the Centennial Conference and the New Jersey Athletic Conference joined together in a 2022 agreement to jointly address football scheduling needs. 

The little boy in this 72 year old body is overjoyed once more. Like he was 65 years ago at Yankee Stadium.