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Talking Schmidt

Before the Phillies were able to hang on for a 3-0 win over the Mets in New York tonight, former Phillie and Hall of Famer Mike Schmidt sent them an email message [link]:

“One pitch, one at-bat, one play, one situation. Think ‘small’ and ‘big’ things result. Tough at-bats, lots of walks, stay up the middle with men on base, whatever it takes to ‘keep the line moving’ on offense, 27 outs on defense. The Mets know you’re better than they are. They remember last year. You guys are never out of a game. Welcome the challenge that confronts you this weekend. You are the best. Good luck. #20.”

The Five Stages of Booing

In recent days, due to the treatment of Rod Barajas and Ryan Howard, the manner in which Philadelphia sports fans boo sports figures has come under scrutiny.  Again.  To be fair, Philly fans probably boo too early and too often, but also to be fair, it is an institution severely misunderstood outside of the region.

So as a public service, I present the Five Stages of Booing, to help educate the nation and understand Philadelphians better.

A little bit of background: any psychology 101 student can recite the Kübler-Ross model, otherwise known as the Five Stages of Grief and we tip our old ballcaps to those stages as a template for the following model.  And, just like grief, remember that the need to boo is a human condition, and like any human condition, not all cases of booing fit neatly into these stages.  Perhaps a continuum would be a more appropriate designation...

At any rate, without further ado, the Five Stages of Booing...

Stage 1 -- "Immunity to Boos" -- At this level, a sports figure's eardrums will never have to vibrate to the low-pitched, high intensity-drone of thousands vocalizing their displeasure.  The only person enjoying this stage is Richie Ashburn and unless you plan on going out on top the way he did, you won't be joining him in this stage.  If the Mets found a way to cryogenically freeze Chase Utley, he might be at Stage 1.

Stage 2 -- "Tough Love" -- Contrary to popular opinion, Philly fans do not randomly boo a sports figure without some cause [not to be confused with "just cause", although as we will see later, there is a "just because"].  Typically it comes for a reason and even hometown stars can receive this treatment.  Jimmy Rollins, Chase Utley, Brian Westbrook, and Ryan Howard are often universally cheered, but if a strikeout, fumble, or fielding miscue comes at an inopportune time, boos can and will rain down, but usually only temporarily.  It's as if the crowd is saying, "we love you man, but that sucked" and as long as consistently good efforts are put forth, rarely will things advance to Stage 3.

Stage 3 -- "The Love/Hate Relationship" -- Over time, if a player or coach can defy what the fans consider to be good efforts or sensible decisions that there can be no holding back the vocal displeasure.  Think of Pat Burrell in 2006 sucking his gut in and striking out looking on inside fastballs in clutch situations, or, think of the poorly executed pass play Andy Reid calls on third and short.  Stage 3 is a chronic condition but is curable [see Pat Burrell, circa 2008], though Donovan McNabb and Mike Schmidt are perpetually trapped in this stage.

Stage 4 -- Only Hate Remains -- T.O., Michael Irvin, Drunk Santa.  Stage 4 is reserved for those who have wronged a Philly sports team, either by disappointing or turning on their team or by dealing a crushing blow to one of the Philly teams.  This is the pinnacle of booing and only a few are lucky enough to ever advance out of this stage once they are in it to the more benign Stage 5.

Stage 5 -- "Booing as Tradition" or "Just Because" -- In the final stage, fans boo a player because that is what they have done for years and it's just what you do.  At this point, there's not a lot of animosity or malice left in the booing, it's just tradition, almost like going downashore in August.  It's just what's done. Scott Rolen is an example of this type of booing.  Most fans smile knowingly as they deliver this boo, similar to the way family members bond over a Thanksgiving turkey.  It's perfectly acceptable for toddlers and grandmothers to participate in Stage 5.

Caption Contest

For the past few weeks, I've subconciously been humming James Taylor's "Carolina In My Mind".  What has the song in my mind is the anticipation of a golf trip to the Sandhills region of North Carolina.  Thirty-six holes, dinner, bed, wake up, do it again.  Life is hard.

To paraphrase Mr. Taylor, say nice things about me, 'cause I'm gone, to return on Tuesday. In the meantime, I came across a photo that would be fun to use as an informal caption contest (courtesy of Ian Kirschner):

That's Mike Schmidt on the left and Yogi Berra on the right.  I'll get the ball rolling with mine: "It's OK, Mark, I never said a lot of things I said either."

Leave your version in the comments section.  Winner gets a free subscription to Balls, Sticks, & Stuff the Magazine.

Reading Group: Clearing the Bases by Mike Schmidt

Mike Schmidt's Clearing the Bases has met with mixed reviews.  Some felt Schmidt contradicted himself, others saw the effort as "thoughtful".

While I wouldn't rank this baseball book on the level of The Summer of '49 or Moneyball, it has one interesting thing in common with those two books:  it gives the reader a glimpse into how those within baseball think and feel about the game.

As fans, we certainly have our own opinions about the game, but we are looking from the outside and have little influence on the shape of the game.  The most interesting chapter was the first, where Schmidt goes into detail about his early years in college and professional baseball.  Stop and think about this:  the man that would go on to be the greatest thirdbaseman of all time was a walk on at a mid-major university.  [On top of that, the player taken immediately after Schmidt in the second round of the 1971 draft?  George Brett.]  In writing about himself during that time, Schmidt paints the picture of a young man who couldn't have been happier.

As advertised, this post is an open thread...Go into the comments section and discuss the book with your fellow readers.  Make yourself comfortable, but please try to use a coaster.

Best Laid Plans

Life has been a whirlwind as of late...Florida for baseball, North Carolina for golf.  As of yesterday, one final leg of the journey remained -- back to Philadelphia to catch Mike Schmidt's book signing in Rittenhouse Square.

The Missus works in Center City and thankfully, she selflessly volunteered to get to the bookstore early and reserve a place for me in line while I drove in from my suburban office after I finished up with work.

As much as I want to be a city person, I'm not [you can take the boy out of da coal reejin, but you can't take da coal reejin out of the boy] and navigating solo through the city by car or by foot is never easy for me, particularly at rush hour.  On top of that, the stress of the last few weeks was really beginning to mount...leave X on time in order to be at Y by such and such a time...cross this off that list...etc...

By the time I arrived at the bookstore, I could have really used a stiff drink, but still, despite all the obstacles, things were going according to plan, and I took my place in line, number 94.  The Missus was in line just ahead of me in order to get an additional book signed and then snap a photo of me with The Greatest Third-baseman of All Time.

Suddenly, with just seconds to go before I was to meet Schmidt, I realized that I had nothing in mind to say to the man.  I wanted to say something original, not the standard, "what do you think of this year's team Mike?"  But, as I inched closer and closer to my boyhood hero, my mind was drawing a blank.

Finally, with Schmidt right in front of me, I blurted, "Uh, how's the golf game?"  I'm pretty sure I didn't stutter and my voice didn't squeek, but it might as well have.  On the inside, I was thinking, "did I just say that?!? 'how's the golf game?' where the hell did that come from?!?"

No doubt, it was original.  Schmidt looked at me -- somewhat dumbfounded as well -- and said something to the effect of, "Oh, not bad...Not as good as it could be." I replied uneasily, "Uh, it never is, is it?"  Again, on the inside, "what am I saying?  Is this really you?  For heaven's sake, just shut your mouth."

"Uh, if you don't mind," changing the subject, I point to The Missus, "she's going to take a quick picture."  We both looked at my wife's camera-phone and smiled uneasily.

Exiting the bookstore, I decided that even though I stumbled over my words, at least I'd have a photo to mount on the wall of my study of The Greatest Third-baseman of All Time and myself.  As we flip through her cell phone, we come across the photo:

Apparently, my wife's hand is as steady under pressure as my mouth.  I can't wait until someone looks on my wall and says, "Hey, that's a great photo of you and Barry Bostwick".

Later, over dinner at Pietro's, The Missus, looked up at me and asked incredulously, "So, I left work early, fought for a place in line, just so you could meet your boyhood hero and ask him 'how's the golf game'?"

Sheepishly, I returned to golf parlance, "I guess I hit that one a bit fat, didn't I?"  Better luck next time.  And Mike, if you are reading this, just send me an email, I'll send you a copy of the pic.  It should look great next to your Gold Gloves, MVP Awards, and World Series rings.

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Reminder: In addition to online purchases, Clearing the Bases is now available in stores.  Get your copy and join in the reading group.

The BS&S.com Reading Group

If you are a visitor to this website, I think we can assume three things.  First, that you can read.  Second, you are a Phillies phan.  Third, you have heard of Michael Jack Schmidt.

Having said that, I am now calling to order the first Balls, Sticks, & Stuff Reading Group.  To become a member, you have to obtain the book at right, Clearing the Bases by Mike Schmidt, which will be released on March 14th [you can pre-order it now, by clicking the box on the right], and then come back to BS&S.com in a month and add your comments about the book to an open thread I'll post on or around April 14th.  Pretty simple membership requirements, right?

Notice, I called this a "reading group" and not a "book club".  Oprah has nothing to do with this, we won't sit around drinking chai and eating scones while listening to Anna Nalick's "Breathe", and we won't do any supportive emoting or whatever.

We'll just meet back here in about six weeks and discuss what one of the greatest players of all-time has to say in a book about baseball.

Any questions?  If not, go get the book.

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Admit it, when you read "Michael Jack Schmidt" above, you did so in a Harry Kalas voice.

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Finally, if you are interested, The Greatest Third Baseman of All-Time will be at the Barnes & Noble in Rittenhouse Square to do a book signing on March 15th.