The year that still haunts me

2003 should have positive associations for me. It was the year that my younger daughter was born, and if there’s one thing in life I enjoy more than anything else, it’s being a dad. She’s going to become a teenager this summer, and looking at her now is a daily reminder that 2003–in human terms–was

Jose can you see it?

Jose Cardenal played in many cities over the course of his big league career, and I’d be surprised if he had a special affinity for any one of them. But he was a Cub when I started following the team in the mid-1970s, and for that reason he’ll always be a Cub to me. He

Bringing 62 back

When I was a kid, Roger Maris’ 61 home runs in a single season seemed like an unbreakable record. Even getting to 50 was nearly unheard of, and nobody even came close to 61 until the mid 1990s. But then Ken Griffey Jr. came close a couple of times, and Mark McGwire seemed to threaten

Sammy Sosa and the ghosts of 2003

With Sammy Sosa on the Hall of Fame ballot for the first time this year, the annual debates about who should be inducted–or not inducted–have commenced. The proprietor of The Hall of Very Good asked me to make a case for or against Sammy Sosa, and the piece appears here. I came out as forcefully as I

The Virtual Sammy Sosa

I was recently at a place called WonderWorks in Orlando, Florida. It’s the type of a hands-on science workshop that I wish existed when I was a kid. Maybe then I wouldn’t have such an aversion to science, or at least I wouldn’t keep my distance from it quite so much. One of the exhibits

It’s all changed but the love

This picture above was taken back in 1999. Since I hadn’t yet switched to digital photography back then, this image exists as a physical photograph. From time to time, I use this forum as a way of transferring a few of these photographs into digital form by running them through a scanner, and then posting

Bill Clinton at the ballpark

I live in Chicago, and by now I’m used to the Secret Service helicopters flying over my house whenever the President or his family are in town. The military helicopters are usually the ones I hear, and they’re always gone in a flash. I’m sure that’s a good thing for keeping the President safe. So

Remembering the Hawk

One of the themes running through the “Don’t Blame Steve” song and video is admiration for Andre Dawson (or “Hawk Dawson” as he’s referred to in the video). Dawson only played six seasons in right field at Wrigley Field, or roughly half as long as Sammy Sosa’s tenure there. But believe me when I say

Shows what I know

Hall of Fame voting results were released today, and Barry Larkin was elected (easily, I might add) while Jeff Bagwell–the only player I selected on the BBA‘s ballot– fell significantly short of the 75% needed for induction. For the record, Bagwell’s 56% means he needs to make up some significant ground over the next 13 seasons.

Hanu-Cubs, Night 4

As with the previous nights of this festival of Jewish Cubs players, we begin with the music of Steve Goodman. For more about this song, and Steve Goodman generally, click here. The profile of Dave Roberts is here. Sam Fuld is here, and Ken Holtzman is here. Tonight’s post will focus on the winningest active

Baseball’s first professional player

In 1936, the first ballots for the newly-created Baseball Hall of Fame were mailed out for voters to consider. As with modern Hall of Fame balloting, there were two ways to be elected: the Baseball Writers Association of America (or BBWAA) was allowed to vote for contemporary players from the 20th century, while the Veteran’s

Jeff Bagwell for the Hall of Fame

As a member of the Baseball Bloggers Alliance (or BBA for short), I recently participated in their annual Hall of Fame voting process. I don’t have one of the writer’s votes for the election that determines who will actually be enshrined at Cooperstown, but like everyone who loves the game, I do have an opinion.

Adding another digit

I’m watching the World Series now, and I want to squeeze this one in before the game’s over so I can do my post-game review, so here goes… In 1996, Sammy Sosa was having a very good year. Not the herculean, gargantuan, 66 homers and 160 RBI seasons that he would put up a few

Don’t overlook that first game

Reliving ballgames from the past is a bit like watching Titantic and hoping the boat won’t sink. The boat’s always going to hit the iceberg, and panic is always going to ensue, and that band will always keep playing with the chaos around them. Watch it again and again if you like, but those things

The unique nature of Game 163

This is my 163rd post on this blog, and I wanted to spend a few moments ruminating on the most unusual game in all of baseball. The baseball regular season is a very predictable thing, in the sense that a team travels around from city to city, plays 2 or 3 or sometimes 4 games

I thought of him as my Grandpa

Jack Brickhouse was my surrogate grandfather from 1975 to 1981. He’s the reason why I turned away from the Cardinals, which was no small thing for a young boy living in the Cardinals’ town of Springfield, Illinois. And as I got older, and the Cubs replaced the mild-mannered Jack with the more bombastic Harry Caray

Dusty left him in too long, twice

I’ll never forget the 2003 playoffs. The way it ended is something that I might never recover from. I’ve posted about that before in this space. But there are some good memories from it, too. I was scheduled to go to Atlanta on a business trip, and lo and behold, the Cubs were going to

My blue hat’s off to Jim Thome

This won’t be a pleasant topic to address. There isn’t any physical pain or suffering involved, only mental anguish on my part. And of course it has to do with being a Cubs fan. What a great life I might have if baseball didn’t matter to me, or I was a fan of a team