Really, Bud Selig?

Well, I feel so conflicted about posting something not even tangentially related to sports on what is still ostensibly a sports blog (even if it is woefully neglected), that I'm going to vent about some mildly current sports news.

I say mildly current because I think the story 'broke' at least two weeks ago, but the vote wasn't official (and unanimous) until two days ago now. Bud Selig received another contract extension, meaning we are stuck with him for the next three seasons. At least. When he will be 80.

Now, my seething hatred of Selig has mellowed somewhat over the years. In part, I'm sure it's because I'm older, wiser, and more mature. I am also less personally invested in sports because my work actually revolves around them now. That may not make sense, but there is a perverse logic to it. This still frustrates and baffles me, though, primarily because Selig was supposed to have retired by now. I don't mean that I think he should have retired by now (although I think he should have). I mean that six years ago he announced he was going to be retiring in three years. Four years before that, he said he was going to be retiring... in four years. I was very happy and, of course, very naive.

Now, most of what I've read about the contract extension praises (or at least notes) that by the end of Selig's new contract and the current CBA, the sport will have had 21 years of labor peace. Considering the fact that both the NFL and NBA had ugly lockouts in the past year and the NHL had its own hideous lockout in the last decade, that should probably be quite impressive, but you know what? I don't care. Unfortunately for Selig, the 1994 strike came at the worst possible time as far as I am personally concerned (which I know counts for absolutely nothing outside of this blog). I was old enough to be aware of what was going on (as opposed to the NFL strike in 1987), but still young and innocent enough to be scarred by it. That's right, Bud Selig. You ruined my childhood.

It was almost eight years before I really started to enjoy baseball again. I was leery of interleague play, and extremely grossed out by the 1998 juice fest. By the time Barry Bonds hit his 71st home run of the 2001 season, I was mildly relieved that the tainted record was no longer held by somebody from my home town (I'm not even sure what my reasoning was anymore). More importantly, I was old enough that I didn't feel as personally let down by the "moral" failings in the sport I still loved deep down. Or something like that.

Of course, even if I can admit that Bud Selig is not wholly responsible for the steroid era, he is still managing to do things that boggle my mind. For instance, why exactly is it that, if a National League team needs to move to the American League (and does one, really?), it's the Astros and not his Brewers (who he moved to the NL) that have to move? I know it makes a certain amount of sense with the current division alignment and works out pretty well for the Rangers. And it may actually not be such a bad thing for the Astros to be playing in what tends to be a much weaker division. Just don't try telling that to my husband. Of course, if the team ends up changing leagues and names, they might as well be the Tennessee Titans, as far as he's concerned.

I'll save my other complaints about the State of the Baseball Union for another time. Maybe in a year at the rate I've been blogging. It's finally getting to the point why I don't need to waste too much energy listing reasons Bud Selig should step away since the man is pushing 80. Perhaps by the time this current contract ends, he will have finally decided to get on with his life.

This is not about sports

If I ever start writing about food enough, I might just start a food blog, but since I'm only trying to share the one recipe right now and this felt like the easiest way. Apologies to anybody who accidentally stumbled across this hoping to find old and infrequent ramblings about balls.

Winter Wheat Berry Salad

this was originally posted in the user comments of this post on The Kitchn blog. I would just link to it, but I also wanted to share my modifications because I liked the way it turned out.

1 c. hard wheat berries
½ c. dried cranberries
1 large apple, peeled and finely diced
1 stalk celery, finely diced
½ c. finely minced parsley
1/3 c. toasted pecan pieces
1 green onion, thinly sliced

Vinaigrette:
Zest of ½ orange
Juice of 1 whole orange
Juice of ½ lemon
2 tbsp. white wine vinegar
3 tbsp. olive oil
2 tbsp. honey
Salt and pepper to taste
Freshly grated nutmeg

Place wheat berries in a large saucepan and cover with several inches of water. Bring to a boil and simmer, uncovered, for 45 to 60 minutes until tender. Drain and cool completely. Toast the pecan pieces until fragrant, 3 to 5 minutes. Cool.

In a large bowl combine the wheat berries, cranberries, apple, celery, parsley, pecans and green onion.

In a screw-top jar combine vinaigrette ingredients. Coat salad with vinaigrette and season to taste.

My modifications:
Since I had no celery on hand, I added an extra green onion, a shallot, and two cloves of garlic. I'm also not a huge fan of raw oniony flavor, so I gently sweated those veggies (just the white parts of the onion... I added the green bits after it cooled) while the wheat berries were cooking. I used about a tablespoon of oil to cook the veggies in, so I reduced the amount in the vinaigrette accordingly.
I also didn't have any regular oranges or lemons, so I substituted clementines and upped the vinegar VERY slightly to balance the extra sweetness.
I also used two small apples instead of one large one, so my proportions were probably slightly off, but I really liked it. I probably used a bit more pecans than the recipe called for, too!

Six Years Ago

Six long years ago, I willingly spent my hard-earned money to come to Mavericks' first-round playoff games. Now, I am getting paid to attend the first two games (and more, if necessary) of the Mavericks' first-round series against Portland and I am not exactly thrilled to be here. The Mavs broke my heart in 2006 and then crushed it in 2007. By the time they were choking in the first round again in 2008, I'd moved on. 

This is the first Mavericks game I've been to since Humble Billy's departure. I am not sure if I'll be able to tell how many foul shots anybody has. This is the first time I've seen Jason Kidd in a new-era Mavs jersey, too. I'm not sure if I feel old or young watching Jason Kidd play now. He's one of the only players left (along with Shaq) I watched as a kid. Other than all the new construction that cropped up around the arena since the last time I attended a Mavs game as a fan, I am not sure if there too many substantive differences with this team. Who knows, though. Maybe with everybody predicting another first round disappointment, the Mavericks will surprise everybody again and actually win.

Five Years Ago

Five years ago today-ish (Sunday, if we're going to be particular), I was also at the Ballpark for a Rangers-Red Sox Opening Day. The circumstances were somewhat different. Five years ago, I had lied to get out of work and picked up my brother after his first-period history test from school for a "doctor's appointment," (he had a note from my mother). Today, I am working Opening Day. Six years ago-ish, I was also working Opening Day, but back then I was wearing a rather unflattering uniform and making not much more than minimum wage. My job description then included calling security on a drunk and unruly fan in a Yankees A-Rod jersey during the sixth inning. My job description now may include blocking drunk and unruly fans from the Star-Telegram's Live Chat during the game. I guess some things don't change too much.

Five years ago, my brother and I were seventh in line to get into the Ballpark and were invited, as eager beavers, to hold the Texas flag on Greene's Hill during the National Anthem. Today, I will be sitting in the press box during the national anthem. Five years ago, I could come to the game unabashedly decked out in Red Sox gear, although I was teased by my former coworkers. I wore my Curt Schilling jersey tee for Boston's starter. Today, I will have to be somewhat more discreet about any Red Sox apparel I wear. I will find a way, though.

Five years ago, I was a die-hard sports fan who spent entirely too much of my free time working on a blog with so few readers that I called it "Talking to Myself." Today, I get paid to tend to a website that keeps thousands and thousands of people informed about our local sports teams. I get so maxed out on sports that I should change the name of my blog to "The Opening Day Blog" to better reflect the amount of my free time that I want to spend blathering about sports now. Five years ago, I was unaware of Twitter's existence, and I doubt I'm alone there. Today, that is my primary outlet for the few, fleeting thoughts I feel compelled to send out into the universe. Fortunately, I have so few followers that I can still say that I'm talking to myself, just not as often.

Update: Five years ago, the closest I got to the field was leaning (tentatively and inconspicuously... I was a former usher, after all) over the railing during batting practice. Today, I was standing on the warning track while the Red Sox took batting practice. Sometimes change is good.

Here's my sad little post from five years ago.

Perfection and a New Era, Perhaps?

I can’t help but wondering if the rash of perfect (and unofficially perfect) games recently is the signal that the steroid era is officially over. Maybe I’m naïve, but I’d certainly like to think so. If Armando Galarraga’s game last night had been accurately officiated, there would have been as many perfect games in the past eleven months (dating back to Mark Buehrle’s July 23, 2009 victory over the Devil Rays) as there had been in nearly an entire decade between July 28, 1994 (Kenny Rogers over the Angels) and May 18, 2004 (Randy Johnson).

In all fairness, it’s easy to manipulate statistics to tell any number of stories. For instance, there was a gap of over five years between the Big Tool’s 2004 game and Buehrle’s, during which time the league took various measures to assess and address the steroids problem. And perfect games have always been few and far between; even in the dead ball era. Not counting Galarraga’s un-hitter, that even Bud Selig will kind-of-sort-of admit probably should have been a perfect game, there have only been twenty in the last 130 years.

The first two perfect games were less than a week apart (just as Halladay’s and Galarraga’s  could have been), and then nearly 24 full years went by before Cy Young had the first ‘modern’ perfect game.  And there was a 34.5-year gap (1922-1956) as the landscape of the game changed in countless ways that had nothing to do with B-12 shots. There was another lag of thirteen years (and one week) after Catfish Hunter’s 1968 perfect game that could have as much to do with random luck and Sandy Koufax’s early retirement as what may or may not have been rampant use of “greenies.”

Statistically speaking, there is no sound reason to read any significance into three (or four games) out of the roughly 2,500 games a year (including the postseason). Still, a girl can dream, right? There are those who know more about the game than I do who will point out that steroids are just part of a long history of inequities and scandals and all manner of embarrassments to the game. There may have never been a true Golden Age of baseball, but maybe things are actually getting a little bit better. 

Suck it, A-Rod, indeed

I don't know about Dallas Braden's grandmother, but I can imagine my Grandmother saying something to that effect. At any rate, although I'd heard about the perfect game over the weekend, I hadn't read the whole story or made the connection to the story from a few weeks back about A-Rod's breach of etiquette. Since my dislike of Rodriguez knows no bounds, though, I can't say how happy it makes me to see that the pitcher who didn't have enough wins to criticize him join the list of less-than-twenty pitchers in the history of baseball to pitch a perfect game.

And, since it was against yet another AL East foe, more power to him.

Another Walk-Off

Maybe I'm luckier than I thought. At least for the Red Sox. With some real craziness (more excuses, but some are legit!) going on during the last couple weeks, I've barely been able to keep up with the scoreboard, let alone watch an entire game. But I was able to see most of the endings of the last two games, so I was able to see two straight walk-off victories. Boston has now tied their longest winning streak of the season with the back-to-back wins.

This time, it went twelve innings, and it was Kevin Youkilis with a double knocking in the game-winner for an 8-7 victory. After falling into an early deficit, and then coughing up a lead to Josh Hamilton in the seventh, the Sox eventually