As a kid growing up in eastern rural Pennsylvania, my brother and I idolized Mike Schmidt. Despite being undersized and with no arm to speak of, I wanted to play third base (someone had the good sense to move me to second early on) and at the plate in our backyard I imitated Schmidt's stance. To this day, in my brother's old room in our parent's house, a growth chart picturing a life-sized Schmidt touting the benefits of regular dairy consumption still hangs on the wall.
Had someone told us the man walked on water, it's likely we would have believed them. Later, as a young adult, I was stunned to learn that Schmidt was booed on occasion in Philadelphia. What? Booed? Schmitty?! Remember, we grew up two hours from Philadelphia before the age of the Internet, Daily News Live, and Pardon the Interruption. News of Schmidt's sometimes peculiar attitudes and the Philadelphia fans' exception to those attitudes had not filtered up to coal country, and even if it had, we were too young during Schmidt's prime to comprehend it all. Wait, he wore a wig? When did that happen?
Now, as a man in my early 30's, the more I hear Schmidt speak, the more he reminds me of many of the girls I met in my 20's. You all know the type: drop-dead gorgeous, but when you finally get to converse with her, all she wants to talk about is how she thinks she's overweight and how everyone is out to get her. A few minutes into the conversation, you start to think, Please, please, just stop talking. Stop. Talking. You're ruining it.
On Monday, The Greatest Third-baseman of All-Time, the three-time MVP, the man behind 548 home runs (in an age when even 400 meant something), 158 of which came with the score tied, 174 of which came with two outs, said:
"I always felt the other team kind of wanted me up there. I didn't like that feeling. I didn't feel complete. I could have had a lot more fun if I had given a crap about what I hit. I wanted to be a guy who could hit you a ground ball up the middle with a man on second and two out. I wanted that in my repertoire. I didn't want to be a guy who rolled over to third base if you threw me a slider in a pressure situation. I didn't want to be a guy who had a lot of holes, who was easy to strike out: Bust him up and in, throw him a slider away and he'll wave at it."
Mike. Please. Just stop talking. You're ruining it.
To make matters worse, he didn't stop. Those paragraphs are just a sampling of the myriad of thoughts Schmidt expressed with reporters. Someone has to pull him aside and suggest more self-levity and less self-loathing. To quote Vince Vaughn's Trent from "Swingers" (by the way, a character who never let a little rambling by the fairer species get in the way of a good time), "Mikey baby, you are so money, and you don't even know it."
You can guarantee the opposing pitchers knew it.
[Photo by Flickr user "Saffanna"]
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To be fair, Schmidt probably wasn't too impressed with what I had to say when I met him briefly.
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From the time Barry Bonds joined the Giants in 1993, his shoe size has increased from a 10 1/2 to a 13.
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The Phils will play real live baseball tonight, hosting the Florida State Seminoles at Bright House Networks Field for an exhibition. It won't be televised, but 1210 WPHT will be airing it.
