Some men get ready for the baseball season by playing a little golf, doing a little jogging, maybe showing up in Florida a couple of weeks early.
Deion Sanders had a different plan.
To get ready for his big-league debut this week, here's what Deion did:
|  | | Whether he's hitting a baseball or covering the best wide receivers in the NFL, Deion Sanders sure makes it look easy. |
Took three baseball seasons off (except for a cameo in Sarasota and Louisville last spring).
Spent some of his spare time covering Jerry Rice and Amani Toomer.
Did approximately 17 Sunday night SportsCenter conversations.
And took Jerry Jones' number off his speed dial.
Then he waltzed into Cincinnati on Tuesday, singled on the first pitch he saw, homered on the second pitch he saw and got his third hit of the night (a bunt single) on the fourth pitch he saw.
So to recap, that's ...
Zero major-league games for 1,134 days.
Then three hits on four pitches.
Give us a break. The guy needs to be fined -- and not just by some Kangaroo Court, by the supreme Kangaroo Court (Justice Rob Dibble presiding).
For embarrassing the other 400 hitters in the big leagues.
Baseball, ladies and gentlemen, is supposed to be tougher than that.
"That's what I was thinking," teammate Sean Casey told Week in Review. "Go out on Sunday, cover Randy Moss. Then come here, hit a bomb and get three hits. It's not that easy.
"If it is," Casey decided, "I'm going to start catching punts in my offseasons. I think that could help me a lot. Helps you with your top hand, I think. Might handle those high pitches better."
|
Wild, wild, wild
|
|
Click here for Jayson Stark's Wild Pitches from the past week.
|
Yeah, something like that. But hold on. Sean Casey -- wise man that he is -- may have stumbled onto something here.
We shouldn't just look on Deion as a freak. Maybe we should look on him as an innovator.
Maybe all baseball players should spend their offseasons like him. Maybe this is the beginning of a whole new revolution in training techniques.
"I'm thinking," Casey ruminated, "that maybe I'll take the first month off after the season. Then, in November and December, I'll start returning punts. It will help me hit the gaps a little better."
OK, it sounds crazy. But how do we know it wouldn't be the answer? Is there any evidence whatsoever that this wouldn't work?
Exhibit A: Deion. 3 for 3. Your witness.
Normally, Casey said, he's spent his offseasons just lifting weights, doing some aerobic stuff, then adding some light hitting and throwing in January.
"I never put punt-returning in my repertoire in the past," he said. "I never tried any of that. I've got no blocking sleds. No goal posts. But I'm thinking of setting a couple up now."
And why stop there? Deion wouldn't.
"I'm thinking I could start doing all this stuff," Casey said. "Maybe I could also cover Randy Moss. Except he's pretty fast. Maybe I should cover the tight end, and have the safety come up to help me."
Why not? Deion has had a few safeties come up and help him in his day. Didn't stop him from getting three knocks -- after playing one of the last five baseball seasons.
In between home runs, in fact, Deion made 141 tackles, picked off 14 passes, returned 112 punts and scored six touchdowns. So if anybody watched that, then watched him go deep on his second pitch Tuesday, how could they not look at this as a sign that all these one-sport athletes we've grown so used to are thinking way too narrowly?
"I think you'll see a lot of football players taking BP now in the offseason," Casey predicted, "and a lot of baseball players start returning punts."
Heck of an idea, we say. It could solve the American talent shortage in baseball and provide plenty of new special-teams personnel in football. So let's do it.
"I've got a lot of tackles to make to catch up with him," Casey said. "But you've gotta start somewhere."
Comeback of the week (Anonymity Division)
Baseball is full of little injustices -- many of them media-induced.
Here's another:
Wednesday, the day after Deion got his first hit since 1997, another once-prominent former first-round draft choice also got his first hit since 1997. It was even a game-winning pinch hit, for that matter.
So what happened?
Deion got to be the lead story on SportsCenter.
All Brooks Kieschnick got was a full voice mailbox on his cell phone.
He picked up his phone Wednesday night and looked at the readout.
"I've bet I've got 50 messages," he said.
The bad news was, none were from Melissa Stark. As close as he got was talking to that other Stark. Talk about your Stark realities.
Until his three-hit debut for the Reds, Deion hadn't had a hit in the big leagues since Sept. 3, 1997. Until he stroked his game-turning two-run pinch single Wednesday for the Rockies, Brooks Kieschnick hadn't had a hit in the big leagues since Sept. 28, 1997. ("Off Manny Aybar," he reported.)
When we mentioned the eerie similarity between his story and the Deion story -- minus about 1,000 camera crews, that is -- Kieschnick seemed to have trouble seeing it.
"Somehow," he said, "I doubt I'm going to get on there with Prime Time."
Not that that was all his fault. Or ours, either.
"He got three hits," Kieschnick observed of his buddy, Deion. "But he got to play the whole game."
And Brooks Kieschnick got one swing. Injustice everywhere, see? Let it never be said Week in Review didn't do its part to correct at least one of them.
Historian of the week
Records are made to be broken. That's the expression, right? But not all of them.
Johnny Vander Meer? Safe.
Jack Chesbro's 41 wins in one year? Safe.
And Rob Picciolo? Safe.
For now, anyway.
What's that you say? You're not familiar with Rob Picciolo and his little slice of history?
Well, where ya been?
Rob Picciolo's record has gotten some serious play lately, thanks to Yankees hack machine Alfonso Soriano.
After Soriano blew through his first 100 plate appearances of the season without a walk, we were reminded again that, as impressive as that feat is, it didn't even get him halfway to the record for this sort of thing.
And that record was held by ... none other than Rob Picciolo, who started the 1980 season by going 268 consecutive at-bats without a walk.
It took some digging for the Elias Sports Bureau to determine that Picciolo, now a Padres coach, even held this record. But he was well aware of it.
"Oh yeah," he told Week in Review. "I'm reminded of it often."
At the time, of course, the computer age wasn't quite as out of control as it is now. So it took a while for Picciolo even to find out he'd made history.
"All I knew was, it was kind of a strange stat to have," he said. "I didn't know it was a record. But I knew I was in the top group. I figured that."
And now he remains at the top of the top group -- because last Sunday, Oakland's Barry Zito killed Soriano's streak by walking him, on a full count, in Soriano's 102nd trip to home plate of the year.
The crowd at Yankee Stadium got so into Soriano's at-bat, it actually groaned when he fouled off the 3-1 pitch -- and roared when he drew ball four.
Soriano's reaction: "When the pitcher released the ball, I knew it was a ball. I felt happy."
We wish we could report that Rob Picciolo was equally happy to have his record survive for the 21st consecutive year. But Picciolo admits that, as great records go, he'd rather have DiMaggio's streak than this streak.
"It wasn't something I was real proud of," he said. "I wish my on-base percentage was better. No question about it. But I came up as a defensive guy, and I still managed to play nine years in the big leagues. So I'm proud of that. I just had a little trouble recognizing pitches. But I always hit ninth. So they never wanted to walk me. Rickey (Henderson) hit behind me, so I got a lot of pitches to hit."
And Rickey, of course, walked enough for both of them.
"Yeah, he took care of that for me," Picciolo said. "And all those stolen bases he got? They were all at the tail end of me stealing third and him just walking into second. I tell Rickey that every day. He's just starting to recognize that all his steals were because of me. It just takes a little time for this stuff to come out. By next year, I'll be a 30-homer man, too."
Twenty years ago, Picciolo recalls, this feat wasn't quite as celebrated as it is today. But Picciolo's teammates were well aware of it, anyway -- particularly his never-a-dull-moment manager, Billy Martin.
"Billy was always bringing it up," Picciolo said. "And he was always making friendly bets with the guys on the bench any time I got to three balls. So we went to Ogden in the middle of the season to play an exhibition game against our Triple-A team, and I set him up.
"I knew the pitcher was going to walk me, because I told him. So when we got to three balls, I looked in the dugout real quick. And Billy was walking up and down the dugout (making the usual wagers). Then, when I walked, he was yelling, 'You set me up. You set me up.' "
On the other hand, when Picciolo finally did walk that year, it was no set-up. Rich Dotson of the White Sox did the honors -- on Oct. 2, in the final weekend of the season.
Thus the bar was set. And 21 years later, the bar remains in place, for the Alfonso Sorianos of the game to shoot for.
"You know," Picciolo said, "a lot of people wouldn't mind having that record -- and playing nine years in the big leagues."
No kidding. You can't set these records if you never get to the major leagues at all. And now that Rob Picciolo has had his 21 years in the record books, he's ready for somebody to come along and get him out of there.
Picciolo says he's "amazed" that two decades later, no one has broken his record. And he should be. If you look back at these last 21 years, it's not as if everybody who came along was Frank Thomas.
Shawon Dunston once walked eight times in a whole season. Ozzie Guillen had two full seasons in which he walked 10 times. And as recently as 1995, Mariano Duncan made it all the way to Aug. 29 (220 trips) without a walk.
But none of them could do what Rob Picciolo could do.
And now Soriano joins the list of those who tried in vain.
"Hey," quipped Rob Picciolo, "I'm tough to catch."
Hot-to-trot man of the week
We're not sure what you have to do to qualify as the official Hottest Man Alive. But if we're going to establish an arbitrary standard here, Geoff Jenkins wouldn't be a bad place to start.
|  | | To say Geoff Jenkins was hot during his recent hitting barrage would be an understatement. Rather, he was sizzling. |
Here's all the Brewers' mad bomber did last week (until he banged up his shoulder in an outfield collision Tuesday):
Go 17 for 26, with a .700 on-base percentage, five homers and 14 RBI.
That's anybody's definition of a Human Heat Wave. But Jenkins didn't really get it down until last weekend.
Saturday, he bombed three home runs and drove in six runs against the Expos.
He liked that so much, he hit two more homers and drove in six more runs Sunday.
That's five home runs and 12 RBI in 27 hours if you're keeping track.
"Man, if I ever did that," Brewers left-hander Ray King told Week in Review, "I'd be going home and watching SportsCenter all day."
So over the course of those two days, if we remember anything about first-grade mathematics, Jenkins went 7 for 8 -- with five homers. That's hot.
He also became the first player to drive in six runs in back-to-back games in four years (since Rusty Greer, on Aug. 22-23, 1997). That's ridiculous.
And he became just the sixth National Leaguer since the '60s to hit five homers in two games. (The others: Nate Colbert, Mike Schmidt, Dave Kingman, Gary Carter, Barry Larkin.) And that's a lot of name-dropping for one weekend.
But if Jenkins were somewhere out there in whatever zone is beyond hot (hmmm, spontaneously combustible?), he would have pulled off the coolest feat of all.
In his first three at-bats Saturday, he hit a solo homer, a two-run homer and a three-run homer. That left him needing "only" a grand slam for the stupendous, seldom-seen "home-run cycle."
We can use "seldom" to describe it because we did, in fact, witness one of those home-run cycles in the minor leagues in recent times, according to Howe Sportsdata's resident triviologist, Jim Keller. That one was cyclified by Tyrone Horne, in the wilds of the hitter's-paradise Texas League, on July 27, 1998.
But there has never been a home-run cycle in the major leagues. And the Elias Sports Bureau's Randy Robles reports that nobody had even been in a position to attempt one since April 2, 1997.
The last man to do that was Tino Martinez, who thumped a three-run homer, two-run homer and solo homer for the Yankees in his first three at-bats that day. Then, amazingly, he got two shots at the slam, batting with the bases full in the sixth and ninth innings -- but he grounded out and walked. Oh, well.
But the Expos apparently wanted to help Jenkins achieve the greatest cycling feat since Lance Armstrong. Before Jenkins' final at-bat of the day, they allowed the Brewers to load up the bases -- on two hits and an error on what should have been an inning-ending double-play ball.
"When he came up there with the bases loaded," King said, "everyone in the bullpen was saying, 'If he hits a slam here, just make him MVP of the year. Give him Player of the Week, Player of the Month. Just give him all of it.' "
But that was easy for him to say. Back at home plate, Jenkins told the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel's Drew Olson, he was "probably the most nervous I've ever been in my whole career."
So he never even got the bat off his shoulder -- which is particularly amazing for him -- and he wound up being rung up by plate ump Dale Phillips for a history-killing strikeout.
Nevertheless, Jenkins still became the third left-handed hitter since 1900 to hit three home runs off left-handed pitchers in one game. (The others, according to SABR's David Vincent: Mo Vaughn in 1996 and Johnny Mize in 1940).
And by Sunday, no one had seen this much trotting in one weekend since the Hambletonian. But if there's any advantage to hitting five home runs in 27 hours, it's that you can't help but perfect your trot.
"It's kind of like when you write an article," King said. "When you write it the first time, you sit there and critique it and rewrite it. The second one, it gets a little better. And the third one, you can write it on the way to the office."
One of our Week in Review rules is: Any time a player uses a writing analogy, he's guaranteed to get quoted here.
But in case you hadn't noticed, Jenkins isn't the only Brewer who's been getting a lot of trotting practice this year. Which brings us to our next topic, the ...
Mascot crises of the week
It was just last week when we allayed all your fears about the premature demise of Youppi!, the legendary mascot in Montreal. But this week, we're raising fears about someone who is held dear by all of us in this game:
The one, the only Bernie Brewer.
For years now, Bernie has lived in relative peace up in his County Stadium ski chalet, sliding into a mug of beer any time a Brewer hit a home run. Pretty good work, if we do say so.
Oh, the job got slightly challenging a couple of decades ago, with the outbreak of that Harvey's Wallbangers outfit. But lately, Bernie has had one of baseball's cushiest jobs, right up there with the folks in charge of sewing all the Cubs' World Series pennants.
Not anymore, though.
In their first 15 home games this year at new Miller Park, the Brewers have erupted for 30 home runs. That would put them on a pace to hit 162 just at home.
And that means way more work for you know who.
The great Bernie Brewer.
Heck, Bernie has done more sliding this year than Rickey Henderson. And he has other problems, too.
Since he had to vacate County Stadium for his new abode at Miller, he's had many adjustments to make. He had his chalet repossessed. He no longer is allowed to slide into a mug of beer. Nearly everything in his world is drastically different.
And that's a source of concern for all who care about him.
"They even changed the configuration of his slide," an obviously worried Kevin Brandt, the hilarious morning sports guy for WKLH radio, told Week in Review. "Before, he just had the straight schoolyard slide into the mug of beer. Now he's got the Water World corkscrew slide. It's a luge run for him."
So obviously, vertigo is a worry. But that's just the beginning.
"There were some problems for Bernie early in the year," Brandt said. "He wasn't generating enough speed to make it to the bottom. There was a little too much friction on the slide. So they might want to apply some space-age polymer. But Bernie has to be very careful, because he's so high up now, he could fly off the slide and straight into the 300 Club."
If he did, that would raise suspicions in itself -- because it's now his only shot to slide into another mug of suds.
"Yeah, but those people pay extra to sit there," Brandt said. "I'm not sure Bernie's their type."
Bernie's trying, though. He's even changed his look this year.
"Now," Brandt said, "he looks kind of like a slimmed-down Craig Stadler. Before, he used to look more like Captain Kangaroo on a bender. Like a homeless Captain Kangaroo, after they court-martialed him."
We're not worried, however, about what Bernie looks like now. We're worried about what he'll look like if he has to keep sliding down that ramp 200 times this year.
"What I think the problem is," Brandt said, "is that Bernie's getting up there in age now. And after he slides down the slide, he's got 50 steps to climb to get back up to his dugout. With all the beer and the bratwurst and the ballpark food he's eaten all these years, we could have a cardiac episode on our hands. This guy's been eating sausage his whole life."
Suspiciously, the Brewers have never released EKG results on Bernie.
"I know he had a stress test," Brandt reported. "They say he's fine. But you never know."
Then, apart from the potential cardiovascular ramifications, we have a slightly more delicate situation to worry about. And by that we mean, naturally, Bernie's reportedly fragile derriere.
If the Brewers keep up this slam-bamming home-run pace, can Bernie's butt take all that sliding?
"You mean the chafing?" Brandt said, sympathetically. "I'm pretty sure the clubhouse manager fitted him with sliding shorts, and they help. And it's not confirmed, but I do believe there's some sort of lubricant they use. Again, there's no confirmation, but someone mentioned maybe cheese. They coat his buttocks with cheese."
Let's see. That wouldn't make him a Cheesehead. It would make him, what, a Cheddarbutt?
At least if Bernie still had his mug of beer to slide into, his rump could get cooled off at the end of every slide. But they've taken away Bernie's mug. Forever.
"Why they would remove the mug when they're playing in Miller Park and they're 'the Brewers,' and they're playing 'Roll Out the Barrel' every game during the seventh inning, I have no idea," Brandt said. "But I think it's obvious he misses it. I mean, sliding into beer -- who wouldn't want to do that? It's a dream."
And now, all that's left of his dream is a corkscrew slide, a tender rump and a bunch of hitters like Geoff Jenkins who don't think their weekend is complete if they don't make five home-run trots.
Poor Bernie. We just hope his dream doesn't turn into a nightmare, all in the name of progress.
Debut of the week
We've heard of men homering in their first at-bat in the big leagues. We've heard of men striking out in their first at-bat in the big leagues.
But Blue Jays rookie Luis Lopez had a big-league initiation last Sunday unlike any we've ever heard of.
After eight years of kicking around minor leagues and independent leagues trying to get to this very spot, Lopez was called up by Toronto and sent up to pinch-hit for Darrin Fletcher in the eighth inning of a 1-0 game against the Angels.
And he then got intentionally walked. In his first trip to the plate ever in the major leagues.
Hard to do.
"Even my dad said, 'You're gonna be a trivia question,' " Lopez told Week in Review.
Well, there is, in fact, an answer to that trivia question. According to the Elias Sports Bureau's Rob Tracy, Lopez was the first player to be intentionally walked in his first trip to the plate since Pirates outfielder Steve Carter, on April 16, 1989.
"It was unbelievable," Lopez told Week in Review. "I got into the box, and the catcher, Benji Molina, was a guy I played against in Puerto Rico. He says, 'Congratulations on getting to the big leagues -- and by the way, we're gonna walk you.' "
Tremendous. If Lopez ever gets into the Hall of Fame, those words have to be on his plaque.
But not only were the Angels going to walk him. They were going to walk him to pitch to a man who had hit a home run the previous inning, to account for the only run of the game -- Jeff Frye.
"I thought, 'This guy hit a home run last inning, and this guy has had 10 years in the big leagues, and you're gonna walk me?' " Lopez gulped.
Uh, they sure were. Now that's respect.
"I got to first base," Lopez said. "And that's what our first-base coach, Garth Iorg said. He said, 'I bet you didn't know they had advance scouting like that in Triple-A.' I said, 'Get outta here.' "
Frye, on the other hand, wasn't exactly taking this as an overwhelming display of respect for him.
"It was kind of embarrassing," Frye said. "I know they're trying to win the game, but when they walk a guy in his first major-league at-bat to get to you, it's kind of tough to take."
But he made everybody feel better by promptly whacking an RBI single. And that ought to ensure it will be another 12 years -- or 112 -- before another team tries walking a guy who has never batted before.
"Carlos (Delgado) has been giving me a hard time about it," Lopez reported. "He said, 'Man, we bring you up, you've gotta swing the bat. What are you doing?' I said, 'They walked me.' He said, 'You've gotta jump over to the other side of the plate -- and swing.' "
But Luis Lopez will take his walk and store it in his memory bank. And when he thinks back on all he had to go through just to make that journey to home plate, his astonishing major-league debut gets even more amazing.
"I traveled a lot of roads," he said. "Independent ball. Tryouts. Everything. Teams kept telling me I couldn't do this, I couldn't do that. There was always something I couldn't do. I've been feeding off that. I've been feeding off all the negatives."
And now, the next time someone says something like that, Luis Lopez can just laugh.
"This," he said, "is the perfect answer."
Jayson Stark is a Senior Writer at ESPN.com. Week in Review appears each Friday.
| |
|
