I’m going to miss him when he’s gone. But, thus far, he’s making the most of his curtain call. (That said, Braves still don’t appear to be capable of taking a series from the Phillies.)
Oh, the Ignominy
There’s been little to cheer in the Seattle Mariners’ 35 years of existence. There’s the “Mendoza Line,” named for the sub-.200 hitting Mariners shortstop. Former Mariner Ken Phelps broke up a perfect game bid by Brian Holman with a home run with two outs in the ninth 22 years ago. They are, along with the Montreal Expos/Washington Nationals, the only franchise never to have even made it to the World Series. It took them until 1991, their 15th season, to even get to a winning record. That was promptly followed by a string of two world championships by the Toronto Blue Jays, who joined the league the same season as the Mariners. Despite racking up the sixth-best single season winning percentage ever, in that glorious 2001 when the team won 116 games, the Mariners missed the big show by losing in 5 games to the Yankees in the ALCS. And in 2008, the Mariners were the first $100 million payroll team to lose 100 games (101 to be exact).
And so it’s come to this: the Mariners are the victims of the 21st perfect game. So accustomed to failure are the Mariners fans that they were actually cheering for Chicago White Sox pitcher Phil Humber in the ninth inning.
So what ignominy comes next? One shudders to think.
When Will “The Collapse” Stop?
The brooms were out to get the Braves to end the 2011 season. Looks like they haven't been put away in 2012.
“Epic” was the word used to describe the Braves stepping aside in September and handing their spot in the playoffs to the surging St. Louis Cardinals. Maybe it was meant to happen, people in the organization may have thought. After all, the Cards won the World Series. It’s like finding out that the guy your ex-girlfriend dumped you for ended up marrying her. There’s some minor solace in knowing you were just impeding fate.
Well, what’s happening now? The Cards got their rings. Good for them. But, why aren’t the 2012 Braves winning? Is it because, as opposed to the even-more-epically collapsing Boston Red Sox, they kept their roster largely unaltered? Perhaps. Is it because the New York Mets are playing like a team that’s been written off and has nothing to lose? Could be. Whatever it is, the team’s first half of 2011 Dan Uggla impression needs to end. (Although, through the Mets series, the Braves’ team batting average was .151, whereas Uggla was hitting .173 on July 4, 2011.)
The thing is, while we stayed largely the same, much of our division is improved. (I use “we” because I cut work, dropped 60 bones, and went to opening day at Citi Field to support my team. They rewarded my fandom by scoring zero runs.) The Marlins rep just Miami instead of the entire state of Florida, and added Jose Reyes, Heath Bell, Mark Buehrle to their roster. The Nationals have Stephen Strasburg back and are bound to get a better year out of Jayson Werth. With the loss of Reyes, the Mets, basically sport a minor league lineup surrounding third baseman David Wright. We shouldn’t be losing series to these guys, much less be getting swept by them.
I know it’s early, but, this means we were swept in the last series of 2011 and the first of 2012. My faith in Fredi Gonzalez, who barely had to interview to be the Braves’ skipper and faced no competition in getting the job, was already shaken. I’ll be looking for his scalp by midseason if we aren’t hitting any better.
The collapse was epic. This coda is unnecessary.
Guest Post: At Least We Went to Playoffs 14 Seasons in a Row
The 1992 National League Championship Series was a high point in a 15-year string of dominance that netted the Atlanta Braves one piddly World Series title.
Excepting those two games played in Japan last week, which no one seemed to notice, I feel confident proclaiming that baseball season is upon us. To mark the occasion, I recruited a very old friend of mine and fellow Braves fan to put together a recap of the greatest decade-plus of sports fandom ever experienced by people who admit to others that they’re from Atlanta. It was also, as you can imagine, one of the most frustrating spells in the history of sports appreciation, as multiple World Series that seemed to be within a tomahawk’s chop of being ours were frittered away (or just stolen).
Below is a quick recap of the period, which we’ll call The Silver Age of Baseball in Atlanta. With that, I’ll turn the reins over:
*Full disclaimer, this blog post was originally written five-plus years ago (on Myspace of all places) on September 25, 2006. Then I deleted it. So, this is somewhat of a reconstruction. I have tried to re-write from memory and maintain as much of the original sentiment as possible.*
The end of the Braves/Mets game last night was an insignificant game in the 2006 season, but was a pretty big milestone in the history of the Atlanta Braves franchise, the MLB, and sports in general. The loss mathematically eliminated the Braves from the postseason, ending a decade and a half of dominance over the rest of the National League and, at times, the entire majors. The Braves won the NL West Division title in 1991 and went on to win another 13 straight division titles. Those 14 years covered the majority of my formative years, and I can usually recall a Braves memory associated with significant parts of my personal life.
After this loss, I thought back on all the seasons and recapped what I remember of the postseason for each division title (yes, postseasons only because outside of a few broken records, fights and mostly lame All-Star games, the postseasons are what really matters). Sadly, it was more lows than highs.
’91 – The miracle season capped off by the greatest World Series ever. Even losing the game 7 could not put a dark cloud on the season. We even had a parade for our lovable losers.
’92 – Two on and two out in the bottom of the ninth. Sid Bream comes lumbering around third and barely beats a weak throw by Barry Bonds. The Pirates franchise goes into a tailspin. The Braves continue their run. Another great season, but with more disappointment in the World Series.
’93 – Another disappointment, this time getting beat by a bunch of hoodlums. This year sealed my intense dislike of all things Philadelphia—specifically, when the Braves’ bus was attacked by fans after the clinching game.
’94 – Shortest season in the run = shortest memory
’95 – Finally! The redemption year! What a game six, with Tom Glavine and David Justice both coming up big. And what a call by Skip Caray on the final out, “Yes! Yes! Yes! The Atlanta Braves have given you a championship! Listen to this crowd!”
’96 – The season’s World Series started off memorable: A scrawny 19-year-old kid from the Caribbean belting two home runs in the opening game, and the Braves leaving New York with a 2-0 series lead and home field advantage. Then Denny Neagle and Jim Leyritz struck. The opportunity truly to dominate the ’90s quickly slipped away. We watched the pinstripes win four straight and celebrate their first WS win 18 years. It would be the first of many I’d have to endure.
’97 – Eric Gregg – the man whose appetite was eclipsed only by his strike zone.
’98 – A truly dominant team entering the playoffs that ran into the buzzsaw that was the ’98 Padres. The errors did not help at all, and it continued the disappointment that was Braves’ postseasons in the ’90s.
’99 – Instead of the ’90s being the decade of the Braves, it belonged to the Yankees. Another embarrassing exit, with the salt in the wound being a World Series sweep.
’00 – Another division title, but still no ring to show for it. The “at least we”-excuses begin. Here: At least we did not lose to the Mets.
’01 – The team that was built on pitching was absolutely destroyed by a team with even better pitching. At least we did not lose in the wild-card round.
’02 – Barry Bonds gets his revenge on the Braves. At least we won another division
’03 – A year marked by an explosive offense, only to be completely shut down by superior pitching. At least we made it to the playoffs.
’04 – The only highlight of this short postseason stint was watching Rafael Furcal hit a home run to help win game 2 against the Astros. As soon as the season ended, he was to start a jail sentence for drunk driving. He delayed it by at least 2 days. At least we made it five games.
’05 – The end, though no one knew it yet. The night the Braves lost to the Astros in extras—after being ahead 6-1. At least we had a good run.
Seahawks’ Unis Unwelcome, Unnecessary
The Seattle Seahawks unveiled new uniforms today and whoo boy are they ugly. Fans can at least take heart that a national audience won’t see these stinkers in this season’s playoffs, Matt Flynn notwithstanding.
This latest iteration gets the Hawks even further away from their fine-looking royal blue and kelly green uniforms of the ’70s and ’80s. There was nothing broken about those jerseys and they didn’t need any fixing, particularly the silver helmets with the stately seahawk. Pacific Northwesterners can thank Nike for today’s “gift” after the athletic shoe giant oversaw their redesign as part of taking on the NFL apparel contract. Cue the fretting that the Seahawks are Nike’s NFL version of the Oregon Ducks.
Particularly disappointing is the fascination with neon green, which now is splashed over the shoulders, gloves, pant legs and around the numbers. No one asked for more neon green and no one wants it. Is there no institutional memory of the Squawks’ ill-fated green jerseys of a couple seasons ago?
The Seahawks already inspire little fear in opponents, but now they just look silly doing it. Thank you, Phil Knight. Thank you, Seahawks, you really are coming up small.
Caps Crushing Fans’ Hopes in March Instead of April
I’ve been a Washington Capitals fan since 1986. As such, I’m ready, with the coming of every spring, to have my obssession rewarded with a soul-crushing exit from the playoffs. This after all is a team that in 21 postseasons has reached the Stanley Cup finals exactly once (it didn’t go well) but blown a two-game series lead seven times (five times to the Penguins, three times up three games to one). This year though (perhaps pushing back against Punxsutawney Phil’s call for more winter), the Caps seem determined make their fans an early gift of springtime disappointment. They might not make the playoffs at all. This with a roster that was supposed to be deeper and more talented than the one that finished first in the East two seasons in a row. (And won their first seven games this year.)
Yes, they were without puck-moving defenseman Mike Green for most of the season. And, they’ve been without top center Nick Backstrom since a little Canadian rat named Rene Bourque elbowed him in the head back in January. (It’s telling that Backstrom, the team leader in points when he was concussed, held that honor for several weeks hence.) But neither injury can fully account for this cavalcade of ineptitude. Caps hockey this season has featured, in different combinations and sometimes all at once, mediocre goaltending, porous defense, an inability to score, miserable special teams play, and severe mental fragility. Again, this is largely the same team that lead its conference twice in two years, was fourth in the league defensively last year and first in offense by miles the year before that. (If you follow hockey at all, you know there should be grapefruit-size asterisks next to those plaudits; but we’re not getting into that now.)
Still, for a few more games at least, these crappy Caps are on the playoff bubble. They’re two points from the eighth and last playoff spot and only four out of first in the horrific Southleast. So they could, theoretically wind up not only in the playoffs but as a No. 3 seed with home ice in the first round (spoils awarded to even the crappiest of division winners). Such are the fantasies that cloud the minds of fans.
To wit, the Caps began last week with a should-win contest against the lowly New York Islanders. A lackluster effort found the boys in red down 2-0 in the game’s waning minutes. Winning, and not dropping another two points to the Southeast-leading Panthers, required a spectacular, improbable effort. And that’s what the Caps gave, tying the game in the last 20 seconds and then finishing off the hapless Isles in OT with a scorching wrist shot from underachieving $9 mil/year captain Alex Ovechkin. How would the team respond? Would this minor miracle spark a dramatic return to form in the last month of the season, just in time for the playoffs? I allowed myself to consider that possibility for the three days until the next game, which the Caps lost 5-0 to New Jersey. Then they dropped two more, including Tuesday’s 4-3 overtime loss to the basement-dwelling Carolina Hurricanes. They’re back at it tonight, facing a surging Tampa Bay Lightning, who with a win, could relegate the Caps to fourth place in what is probably the NHL’s worst division. I’ll be watching, because I’m a masochist.
ATLiens Love ATL, Hate Hawks
Josh Smith (left, who I hope realizes he's repping Anaheim in this photo) and Dwight Howard love the ATL, but not the hometown bball squad.
Remember that video of Charles Barkley talking up his gig as a Weight Watchers spokesperson? The one where he also slammed the Hawks as “a bunch of nice guys”? There was a little more to that conversation:
Barkley: If I were the Hawks, they’re the team to me, I’d try to do anything to get Dwight Howard. Say, “You could have anybody on our team.”
Reggie Miller: Who, them? He doesn’t want to come here.
Barkley: [Shrugs and makes a face like he’s eating something sour.]
There were some rumblings that the Hawks were interested in ponying up some big names for the NBA’s premier big, with the names Joe Johnson, Josh Smith, and Al Horford all thrown around. There were even some rumors that among the enticements to lure Superman were the opportunity to come home and play with his childhood buddy J-Smoove.
Seems like you’d sooner see Jerry Sandusky in a Penn State facility than Howard in a Hawks uni—and to make matters worse, Smith is dying to trade his in for that of another team. Word is, Smith wants to leave the nest. And that’s despite the fact that, at the moment, he’s the Hawks’ best player.
His gripes: When things go badly, he’s the most popular scapegoat. (Though, regardless of what happens, by salary means alone, the scapegoat should always be the lavishly overpaid Joe Johnson.) He’s been the most “consistent” player on the team this year—as much as a Hawks player can be consistent—and should have been an All-Star. (He was definitely more deserving than Joe Yawnson.) But, the Hawks didn’t appear to put any muscle behind promoting his candidacy. I figured the season was up in flames when Horford tore his titty. But, it was Smitty who shouldered most of the load in keeping the Hawks from crashing into the draft lottery.
Writes Atlanta Journal-Constitution sports columnist Jeff Schultz: “Neither Smith nor Howard have a problem with Atlanta itself. It’s more about perceptions of the franchise and the ownership. As players move on in their career, winning titles becomes more important. Smith wants to play for a franchise more committed to winning a championship — or at least one that leaves the impression it knows what it takes to get there.”
The Hawks, thanks to years of hapless ownership (and, as much as I hate to admit it, ‘Nique’s proto-‘Mello ballhoggery), have never advanced past the second round of the playoffs. And with Johnson’s albatross of a contract and a current ownership team that regards getting to the second round of the playoffs as highly as Arsenal boss Arsene Wenger regards having to play-in to the Champions League, things aren’t going to change anytime soon.
So, Josh, take flight. Leave home. This is not the place to get your ring.
So This Is What Misery Feels Like …
The Braves epic September 2011 swoon helped propel Atlanta to the top if Forbes' Most Miserable Sports Cities
This is a blog that basks in the misery that underachieving sports franchises inflict on their respective fan bases, from the rabid, rust-belted Dawg Pound inhabitants of Cleveland to the new moneyed, good ol’ boy transients who fein to support Atlanta teams. The authors, which include a Seattle native still so distraught at losing the Sonics to OKC that he’s yet to post anything, are constantly quibbling about which of their hometowns is in fact the sorriest of sports cities.
On Leap Day 2012, it is I who can claim the title, as an independent arbiter, Forbes magazine has declared that the loss of the NHL Thrashers (honestly, no one cares) and the epic September collapse of the Braves (don’t really want to talk about it) makes Atlanta more pitiable than Sonics-less Seattle. Yay! (I guess.)
Here’s how the Coming Up Small team took the news:
ATLSwami: CAME up small!
ValmiCLE: You can have it. Totally impossible to take that list remotely seriously. Puts Denver ahead of Cleveland. DENVER! With this: “A great run from 1996 to 2001 (four titles) doesn’t quite mitigate a long bridesmaid history for the Mile High City.” Four fucking titles in the last 15 years gets less weight than 0 for 45? Blech. Worst one of these lists I’ve ever seen. Buffalo? Seattle? No problem. But putting Phoenix and Denver up there?
ATLS: Phoenix? They had the one Dbacks series. Anything else?
VCLE: Years and years of the Suns being good. Went to a Super Bowl. Dbags more recent than Atlanta’s.
ATLS: So, y’all have been to multiple World Series and an NBA Finals.
VCLE: This is a zero sum game. Been to 3 championship rounds in my lifetime and lost each in a horrible way. Can’t argue with zero titles in over 40 years. Who cares if the hockey team leaves Atlanta? No one in Atlanta clearly. Let’s not go over what happened when Cleveland lost its most popular team. In that time, ATL’s been to a Super Bowl and as many World Series [5, actually, to the Indians’ 2] and managed to win one. Winning matters. No comparison. Winning before 1964 doesn’t matter unless you’re old enough to remember it. And even then.
ATLS: It’s not about you, dude. It’s about the city.
VCLE: Shut your word hole
ATLS: Cleveland was there before you, and, this might be a stretch, it will outlast you.
GreggySEA (in his first appearance on the blog): Damn, swiped first place from us.
ATLS: If it makes you feel better, I don’t value the loss of the Thrashers as even being in the same ballpark as the loss of the Sonics.
GSEA: It does make me feel better. And we just lost out next best hope with Sacramento staying put.
ATLS: Did KJ ever frustrate you back in the day? Cause he’s certainly doing it from Sacto’s mayor’s office.
GSEA: Yeah, fuck that guy.
VCLE: Drafted by the Cavs and traded for Larry Nance, if I recall.
Posterized!
My guess is kids today (holy shit I sound old, which is fitting since I’m in the space between being younger than Steve Nash but old enough to be Kyrie Irving’s father) are still high on the posters, right? When I was a teenager, there wasn’t an inch of the gray wood paneling in my bedroom that wasn’t covered in them. This was abetted by both my brother and I working in music stores, where we got loads and loads of promo posters and such. Hell, my brother even had his ceiling covered. But I did supplement those with a couple of sports-related ones. At some point early on, I wanted, but never actually purchased, a few of the posters made by John and Tock Costacos, a couple of T-shirt guys that had the idea of making these bizarrely themed sports posters that sometimes used athletes’ nicknames and sometimes just made em up, so far as I can tell.
“We wanted to make the athletes into comic book heroes. They’re larger than life. They’re Superman. They’re Batman,” one of the Costacos said (Kevin Mitchell literally being Batman in one of them). “They’re Hollywood action stars that kick the shit out of 20 bad guys always living to fight another day.”
Riiiiight. I know that’s what I always thought of Lester Hayes and Steve Largent.
At any rate, there’s an exhibition of these curious abominations that’s about to close at the Country Club and Mondrian in Los Angeles, and Sports Illustrated put up a slideshow of a bunch. More can be seen here. The Costacos are apparently still in the poster business, but not with the same batshit level of dementia that you can find in these. There’s about a million baffling details to parse in each one–from the overall theme (Kirk Gibson as a hunter, James Worthy as an attorney) to tiny things (Chuck Person’s too-small chaps, or the intimate caress between Jim Everett and one of his linemen).
So I naturally gravitated toward the two Cleveland posters: Bob Golic as some kind of greased hair metal canine fetishist with an exploding doghouse, and Cory Snyder as a gunslinger with smoking balls, more tiny balls on his belt, and a general look of confusion about where he is (is it all about his ability to throw out runners—I spent far too long trying to figure it out).
Has the Hawks Tailspin Begun?
Have J-Smoove and the Horford-less Hawks hit their ceiling?
In journalism, there’s a rule for writing stories about emerging patterns: 1, 2, trend. If that holds in basketball, then the Atlanta Hawks are well on their way turning their playoff-caliber record into an invite to the draft lottery. Hate to say I told you so.
The Hawks have dropped three games in a row. It gets worse: All three games were at home. And none of them occurred on consecutive nights. They were down 20-plus points in all three games. None of the teams that defeated the Hawks (the Grizzlies, Sixers, nor Suns) had a better record coming into the games.
The wheels are coming off of the clown car full of dwarves (at least when judged by NBA standards). Horford is out. His understudy, Jason Collins, who basically hacks other teams’ centers for his dinner, is out, as well. Things don’t look good.
Atlanta Journal-Constitution columnist Jeff Schultz says not to panic just yet. Too late. I’m panicking, realizing that the Hawks will not be able to once again properly illustrate the dictionary definition of mediocrity for another year. Instead, they’re speeding toward just shit.
Says Schultz: “The Hawks are a fragile team even when they’re at full strength. Now they’re fragile and teetering on the edge of the top shelf.”
Allow me to be the first to say, “Look out below!!”
coming up small 