Bloggy Friday: History
Now, I do not consider myself the type of person who downplays history. I embrace history. Take the Civil War. I embrace that. Also the Smoot-Hawley Tariff. I call that embraceable. And don't get me started on Charlemagne.
However, I have to admit I was a bit underwhelmed by what everyone else seemed to deem a historic moment Friday night in San Francisco. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I grow cynical in my old age (I was 40 when I arrived in San Francisco, by the way. As I write this blog, I am 94). Friday night, Mark Sweeney walked up to the plate in the sixth inning to face Matt LIndstrom, and there was definitely a sense that something magical was about to happen. I am not kidding here. At all. The crowd was loud. The television announcers were excited. The Giants teammates were on the top step of the dugout.
Sweeney took a ball and then he fouled one off. I must admit that in Kansas City, I've always known Mark Sweeney only for being the guy whose name sounds like Mike Sweeney, this being the only known similarity between the two men (other than, you know, the carbon-based life form similarity). Mike hit right-handed. Mark really could not hit left-handed. Mike was California. Mark was from Maine. Mark somehow kept ending up on playoff teams. Mike, er, did not.
I guess there was a whole thing in Sports Illustrated about how they get each other's mail or something. Wacky.
Anyway, Mark took a strike, then a ball, fouled one off, took another ball, and then it happened, the moment, history, Mark Sweeney rifled a single to center field. Bedlam. Everyone stood and applauded. Hugs were exchanged. Tears were shed. The ball was taken out of play. Mark Sweeney lifted his helmet to acknowledge the moment. When the inning ended he walked into the dugout where teammates waited to embrace him (see, embracing history). Omar Vizquel actually kissed him.
I'm not kidding about any of this. Really.
I assume you know why all this happened for Mark Sweeney, but I'm holding it back anyway so I can unveil it in italics:
Mark Sweeney moved alone into second-place on the all-time pinch-hit list.
That's right. With that single, Sweeney had 151 pinch hits, moving him ahead of Manny Mota. He's now in second place all alone. It's all his. Joy. Hugs. Triumphant music. The whole works.
Now maybe it's because this all happened on the same night that Barry Bonds hit his 754th home run, but I guess I'm not as impressed by this historic moment as perhaps I should be. I mean, I do appreciate the extra cheering and all that; hey, it's a nice moment. But am I wrong here -- shouldn't they save the hugs, the taking the ball out of circulation, the tears for the guy who moves into FIRST PLACE on the all-time pinch-hit list?
And here's the thing ... he's not even CLOSE to the all-time record.
Most pinch-hits in a career:
1. Lenny Harris, 212
2. Mark Sweeney, 151
3. Manny Mota, 150
4. Smoky Burgess, 145
5. Greg Gross, 143
Lenny Harris is the Cy Young of pinch-hits. Sweeney is 37 (I originally thought he was 34, but I must have misread his birthdate on Baseball Reerence). so he's almost certainly not going to break the record. But if he does, well I can only imagine what will be the scene that night. I just hope if it happens, the Commissioner is in attendance.
7 comments:
When the Giants signed Sweeney, I (a Giants fan) thought we'd finally signed the missing piece. An undervalued 1B who could draw walks and had underrated power, I thought. His OPS was like .900 the year before! It seemed like such a Moneyball move. Sigh. I'm really no smarter than Sabean.
Joe,
Great post as always. Sorry I haven't been on the message boards recently, but I saw your "shout out." Thanks. We just had our first child on Monday, so I've been a bit busy. What an awesome moment. We didn't toss any baseballs out of play like with Sweeney, but we had everything else.
I saw Greg Gross on the all-time pinch hit list. He ended his career in Houston in 1989 and was pretty lousy that season. He also wore glasses that made him look like a guy from a baseball fantasy camp (do they still have those?) or from the Astros accounting office that was somehow turned into Walter Mitty and put on the team's bench for a full season to hit .200 (15 for 60) with no homers and four rbis. He killed tons of rallies that year.
Math was wrong on Gross. He was in 60 games, but was 15 for 75. All of his hits were singles. I wish I was kidding about that.
If Gross played for Mr. Ron Gardenhire in Minnesota and had a year like Kerfeld described, Mr. Gardenhire would advocate signing him again because he "plays the game the right way." In Gardenspeak, that means "I like guys who hit singles and don't mind sitting on the bench being nice."
The aptly Greg Gross came as advertised. He looked like the guy at the supermarket that had to come over and approve checks.
Smooth-Hawley? Priceless!
www.theghoulpool.blogspot.com
Mark Sweeney deserved a loud ovation, but it wasn't purely because of the statistical achievement; it was about who he is, and how he came to the record in the first place.
When he came up, he was a part of the Angels organization - one of their top 4 OF prospects. It was Sweeney, Jim Edmonds, Tim Salmon, and Garrett Anderson. Sweeney hit for better average than all of them.
He got traded to the Cardinals, and Tony LaRussa immediately found out that he was a good situational PH. If it weren't for LaRussa hanging the PH moniker around his neck, Sweeney would've put up Mark Grace numbers playing every day in the bigs.
When Tony Gwynn went down to an injury in 1998, Sweeney filled in every day, batting close to .375 for the month of August. Yet still, because of his unique ability to PH, nobody would give his shot to play every day.
The guy has consistently hit well in the clutch. Don't give up on him, he's got a lot of life left in his bat.
If they were smart they'd play him regularly. He'd turn into an instant Disney movie, about the 37-year old who waited for 13 years before becoming a regular starter. He could put up .325/15/100, guaranteed.
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