Sunday, June 1:
One more win and the Detroit Red Wings are Stanley Cup champions but man, did they put their fans through the wringer last night, in the 2-1 win at Pittsburgh. They were two men short for about a minute and a half at one point in the third period but somehow managed to hang on. I think the Red Wings' depth and playoff experience is what has separated them from the Penguins so far in this series. But they had better make sure they wrap this up tomorrow night at home. Something tells me the Penguins may be on the verge of winning a few of these things, starting next year.
Seattle 5 Detroit 0, yesterday in baseball -- the ninth time the so-called modern-day Murderers' Row have been shut out this season. Frauds, one and all.
Monday, June 2:
No, I didn't plan today's journal to (again) be in red in hopes that my Detroit Red Wings will win the Stanley Cup this evening. It's just the way the calendar came up. Nor do I plan a day's future blog in green, should my Boston Celtics put the Lakers on the brink. Of course, I could change my mind!
News item: "An Indonesian author tossed 100 million rupiah ($10,740) from a plane on Sunday to promote his new book, prompting a scramble for cash among residents below."
Why does this never happen in the skies over Stouffville?
Tuesday, June 3:
Goaltending, goaltending, goaltending. One team had it last night -- in spades. Marc Andre Fleury is the main reason the Pittsburgh Penguins lived to play another day. He was sensational in carrying the Pens to their 4-3, triple-overtime win last night. You can't blame Detroit's Chris Osgood, who was far less busy, but he looked tentative, failed to keep the post covered in the final minute of play of the third period when Pittsburgh tied it and went down too early on two goals, including the game-winner. That sounds a bit harsh, I know. Osgood didn't cost them the game by any means -- the Wings' defence on the tying goal was far more culpable. Or blame the hockey gods. Seldom have teams had such periods of total domination and lose. But Osgood didn't play as well as he has throughout the playoffs and I think he'd be the first to admit that. Another thing -- much is made of the Red Wings' poise. They didn't have it at the end of regulation time and they certainly didn't have it in a terrible first period when they spotted the Penguins their 2-0 lead. Wednesday is another day, but the longer this series goes, the more it favours the youthful Penguins. I fully expect they'll win game six at home and who knows what could happen in a seventh game?
Wednesday, June 4:
I was rumbling through some old picture folders the other day and lo and behold, I realized I had never posted pics from a June, 2003 interleague ballgame between Milwaukee and Baltimore at Camden Yards. The quality reflects an earlier digital camera (to say nothing of the newbie (yours truly) trying to use it) but they're now posted just for the heck of it. Click on the "new" button from the home page and follow directions.
I am sorely tempted to drive to Detroit today and watch game six of the Stanley Cup final from Pittsburgh on the Joe Louis Arena video board along with thousands of Red Wings fans. If they win, it will be a celebration. If they lose, then I'll be able to drown my sorrows with my fellow Motown supporters, as opposed to bitter Maple Leaf fans who never have anything to cheer about and get their jollies by picking a team to cheer against. Pathetic, really.
Thursday, June 5:
DETROIT -- Forty years ago this fall, the Detroit Tigers won the World Series in St. Louis, sending this (at the time) young 15-year old into fits of unconfined joy. We lived in London, Ontario at the time and my dad happened to be in Detroit the day the Tigers won it all (claimed he had to be in Windsor for "work" -- and maybe he did, he wasn't a baseball fan -- but he crossed the border after the game to see the celebration). Apparently, being far more reserved than I am, he wasn't going as crazy as he should have been -- he told us one young lady grabbed him and snorted, "Get with it, dad!!" At any rate, I decided to drive here yesterday and watch the Red Wings try and win the Stanley Cup on the big screen at Joe Louis Arena with thousands of other like-minded hockey fans. And just like my long-departed dad, I had a blast with the post-game horn-honking, high-fiving and celebration. (He was actually a year younger in '68 than I am now -- and I really have trouble getting my head around that).
Goaltending, goaltending, goaltending. Forty-eight hours after the game of his life, Marc Andre Fleury had one he'd like to have back. And Chris Osgood made some huge saves, none bigger than the game-saver with one second remaining.
Friday, June 6:
I didn't stick around the Motor City to see today's parade. Being part of the post-championship celebration was enough fun and something I won't forget.
So, it's been a spring to remember for me, with both Manchester United winning the double and the Detroit Red Wings capturing the Stanley Cup. Now my Boston Celtics have won the opener of the NBA Finals (I know, it should be singular). But much as I'd love to see them take it, I'm still picking the Lakers in six.
Best chant among the Red Wings faithful at the Joe Wednesday night came after Pittsburgh scored a late power play goal to cut the lead to 3-2. We all bellowed, "It doesn't matter," at the top of our lungs. Of course, it very nearly did.
Saturday, June 7:
It was 35 years ago but I remember it like it was yesterday. A bunch of us college students were de-liddin' a few "stubbies" at a Saturday party in London Ontario, when someone piped up, "Hey, it's time for the race." Whereupon we turned on the TV and watched one of the greatest sporting events of our time -- the great Secratariat winning the 1973 Belmont by an astonishing 31 lengths to capture the U.S. Triple Crown -- the first horse to do so since Citation in 1948. Secratariat's time was a gum-swallowing two-minutes, 24 seconds -- to this day, two full seconds faster than any horse has managed a mile-and-a-half. Seattle Slew and Affirmed would also win Triple Crowns in 1977 and 1978 respectively, but it's been a 30-year drought since then. Today, Big Brown will try to make history and something tells me, he will. Other Crown hopefuls have faltered in the demanding mile-and-a-half -- Funny Cide, Smarty Jones, to name two in recent times along with Canada's own Northern Dancer back in 1964 -- but I'm convinced Big Brown has the royal jelly and will prove it today in New York.
Sunday, June 8:
Well, what in thunder happened there? Dead last? We were all waiting for the big kick in the stretch at the Belmont yesterday but when asked for overdrive, Big Brown was spent. Whether the horse was hurt or not ready or just plain lazy is something that will be probed and debated for days. One thing is for sure -- Big Brown -- if healthy -- will race again. If for no other reason than to justify his $50 million stallion contract, which is where the big money is. I wonder if it can be renegotiated. One other thing is certain -- my predictions on this year's Triple Crown races are a perfect example why I don't play the ponies. I'd be dead broke.
The Saturday ritual growing up at our house included, depending on the time of year, Hockey Night in Canada, baseball's Game of the Week, Bugs Bunny and an ABC sports show called "Wide World of Sports." The host of that show, the incomparable Jim McKay, passed away yesterday at age 86. He was a member in excellent standing in the great stable of ABC sports talents that included Keith Jackson, Bill Flemming, Chris Schenkel, Jim Lampley, Al Michaels and of course, Howard Cosell. Much as Michaels suddenly went from a World Series announcer to the point man for ABC's coverage of the 1989 San Francisco earthquake, McKay will always be remembered for the sterling job he was immediately thrust into during the 1972 Summer Games when members the Israeli Olympic team were captured and then slaughtered by terrorists. There was a time when McKay was the lead voice for the Olympics, the Kentucky Derby, the Indy 500 and countless other events in addition to his "Wide World" duties. A dog-eared paperback copy of his first book, "My Wide World" is one of my most prized possessions. I now aim to get a copy of his second, and I imagine it will be as fascinating as the first.
Monday, June 9:
Skip Caray is an acquired taste. Loved by many, hated by many, the radio voice of the Atlanta Braves is now absent from most televised games. Luckily for those of us in the former category, he still calls the Braves on radio, which is available via XM satellite radio. He almost died last fall with liver and heart problems in addition to diabetes, so he's not doing any road games these days, which is OK, as XM only picks up home-team broadcasts. Like his late dad, Caray's not shy about blistering a non-hustling player. And he calls a spade a spade. Unlike those all warm and fuzzy about the final year of Shea Stadium, Caray painted the truth about the place --"What an armpit!" -- during yesterday's broadcast. He also has the perfect partner in Pete Van Wieren. During some sort of a home-run-for-the-money contest yesterday, this exchange was made:
Caray: "Our contestant is Joe Blow from Halcy, er, Halka, uh, Halcyondale, Georgia. How do you pronounce it? And why didn't he spell it phonetically?"
Van Wieren: "What are you having trouble with, Skip? 'Halcyondale,' or 'Georgia?'"
As an XM subscriber, I get to hear 'em all -- the cream of the crop of major league baseball's radio play-by-play announcers. Personally, I've tried baseball play-by-play on radio. I sucked -- it's not easy. All 30 broadcast teams in the majors do sterling work (pun intended towards the Yankees' John Sterling). And most of the time, my ears are tuned toward Jerry Howarth and Alan Ashby. They make up one of the best tandems in the majors. And -- unfair as it may be to Dan Dickerson and Jim Price -- I can't listen to a Tigers' game without Ernie Harwell even though I never will again. So when the Blue Jays are idle, comfortably ahead or painfully behind, I start to roam on my XM receiver. Plenty of options, but Skip and Pete add just a little more to a ballgame. So when I see a Braves home game among my radio choices in the car, I tend to click on that button. And stay.
Wednesday, June 11:
The english language is a marvelous tool and I have great admiration for the wordsmiths who use it to its full potential. But even if I was among that group, I wouldn't be able to convey the words of gratitude in my heart. How can I possibly thank a friend, lover, confidant, drinking buddy, soulmate and wife who has given me the best 25 years any husband could ever dream of? Where are the words to describe the feelings and love I have for her? The sentences I will try to use today will be woefully inadequate, that much is certain. Happy 25th Anniversary and thank you so much, my lovely bride.
Friday, June 13:
Friday the 13th. And I feel like a superstitious person might on this day -- I should be in bed. I've been battling a touch of the flu for a couple of days and it is getting slightly worse each day. But we have no back-ups on the business desk this week, so here I am at the company store. But this, too, will pass and I should feel great again very soon.
I watched part of the Celtics-Lakers game last night until I fell asleep with Boston down about 20 points. And I was all set to write that they had blown two chances at an all-important road victory in this series and they had better not lose game five, etc. Lo and behold, I now hear on the radio that they won and are now just a victory away from the championship. One of the greatest comebacks in NBA Finals history -- involving my favourite team, no less -- and I missed it!
Sunday, June 15:
So, Pop, Pater, Daddio -- HAPPY FATHERS DAY! And when you first see those garish socks, remember, it's the thought that counts!
I like to think I have at least a rudimentary knowledge of oldies rock-and-roll music. For instance, I've known for a long time that We Five wasn't an all-male group as many have believed. Lead singer Bev Bivens was just singing "You Were On My Mind" at the low end of her incredible range. But I was certain that Shocking Blue, the Dutch band formed in the late '60s, was an all-male foursome. It was originally, but not when I first heard them -- in 1970 when their hit "Venus" zoomed to the top of the charts. That song's lead singer was the late Mariska Veres, who joined the group in 1968. Some research shows her to have been rather shy onstage and in old TV clips (the direct opposite of Bivens). She never drank anything stronger than tea and insisted that her relationship with her bandmates be strictly professional. You learn something new every day.
Monday, June 16:
So, it's back to Boston, where the Celtics have lost but one home game in the NBA playoffs. But nothing's a sure thing, and I wish they had been more like the road warriors the Detroit Red Wings proved to be in their playoffs. Still, taking two of three in Los Angeles would have been a very tall order and Boston did get the road win they needed to take control of the series. But they have to wrap it up Tuesday night -- a game seven would have the Lakers flying high and holding all of the momentum.
Lots of baseball left. And don't look now, but the Detroit Tigers have won six in a row and seven of eight. Problem is, they have to keep that sort of breakneck pace up if they're to climb into any kind of playoff race come Labour Day.
Blue Jays' general manager J.P. Ricciardi might have had a couple of sleepless nights over the weekend after Toronto dropped two of three to the visiting Cubs. Saturday, ex-Jay Reed Johnson slapped a big home run for Chicago and yesterday ex-Jay Ted Lilly stifled them on one hit through six innings. Yes, Toronto has (again) suffered through lots of injuries, but last place -- which is where they reside in their division -- just won't do. Eventually, Ricciardi is going to have to answer to his lack of success in operating this ballclub.
Tuesday, June 17:
Sometimes you just know. And there wasn't a single moment yesterday -- not one -- when I didn't think Tiger Woods would win the U.S. Open. I would have loved to have seen Rocco Mediate pull it off in his 18-hole playoff with Woods. But Tiger is Tiger. Somehow, he perseveres. Somehow, the iffy shots and short putts that might plague him in mid-round are completely absent when it's all on the line. I was at the 2000 Canadian Open when Woods made the most incredible shot I've ever seen live -- a six-iron from the sand, over water, onto the tiny green on 18 in the final round to eventually stun Grant Waite by one shot --winning the one tournament Jack Nicklaus was never able to capture. Rising to the occasion is why Tiger Woods is the best golfer I've ever seen.
Wednesday, June 18:
A demolition. A dismantling. A total domination. And so, on the 17th of the month, the Boston Celtics win their 17th NBA championship, routing the Los Angeles Lakers 131-92. It was over at halftime. Truth be told, it was over long before that. And never let it be said that you cannot rebuild a basketball team in one season.
I can't believe the spring I'm having. Man-U, the Red Wings, the Celtics, faves all, and all with championships. I'll never have another year like it. And I do know that not all of my teams will win championships this year. I am, after all, a Detroit Lions fan.
You know things aren't going your way when you manage four measly hits, all of them singles, while five of the opposition's hits are home runs. (Blue Jays fan: "What's a 'home run?'") Such is the wobbly flight of Toronto's local nine, the worst team in the majors in hitting with runners in scoring position. The Jays are getting dream seasons from their pitchers and to throw it all away with zero clutch hitting is almost criminal.
Hard to believe the gambler, Kenny Rogers, is still chuckin', and very effectively, thank you. The veteran pitched Detroit to a 5-1 win at San Francisco last night, the 27th different major league ballpark he's notched a win in.
I remember a time when radio ads were clever, funny and worth listening to. Dick Orkin (Chickenmaaaaan !!) and his gang at the radio ranch still do a great job, but most of the ads I hear these days completely insult my intelligence. The worst, and I mean the absolute worst, are the General Motors' spots on Blue Jays' games. They're so incredibly terrible, some day I'm gonna snap off the radio dial in my car, in disgust.
Thursday, June 19:
People say they want to get rid of John Gibbons. That won't happen unless you get rid of J.P. Ricciardi. And that won't happen unless you get rid of Paul Godfrey. Such is life with the last place Toronto Blue Jays, who have now dropped five in a row and are destined for another playoff-free season. I can't say I'm in the fire-Gibbons camp. Seems to me he's tried everything he can think of. The problems run deeper and until owner Ted Rogers takes action, they'll continue to fester. The team president -- Godfrey -- is a man whose greatest claim to fame is the fact he was once Metro chairman, a former top political post in the city. Being a star in local politics -- especially in Toronto -- is hardly the necessary requirement for running a baseball club. The general manager -- Ricciardi -- has never produced a team that has so much been in a pennant race, let alone a playoff game. And when asked on his radio show by a fan whether Cincinnati's perennial 40-homer man Adam Dunn would be someone he'd be interested in, instead of simply saying no, Ricciardi blasted Dunn as a guy who doesn't care about baseball and ripped him for his low career batting average (247) over eight seasons. Yet, Ricciardi signs Brad Wilkerson, whose career average is .250 and has averaged 21 homers in his eight seasons in the majors. You can bet Dunn will be fired up when the Reds visit Toronto next week. Maybe I'll go to one of those games -- just to cheer on Cincinnati.
Friday, June 20:
I'm not at all surprised the Blue Jays fired John Gibbons today. I'm very surprised -- pleasantly so -- that they hired Cito Gaston. They could have done far worse. Cito has a pretty nice resume and I've never understood why this two-time World Series champion wasn't on any team's "A" list before now. Here's what I wonder -- whose decision was it to bring him aboard? I suspect it was President Paul Godfrey's, not J.P. Ricciardi's. One thing about Cito -- he knows a lot about offence, as he was the Jays' hitting coach under Bobby Cox and Jimy Williams before becoming the skipper himself. And it's also a pretty fair public relations move, especially in light of Ricciardi's boneheaded inflammatory comments this week regarding Cincinnati's Adam Dunn.
And the legend grows. Tiger Woods' amazing U.S. Open victory would have been one for the ages had he been completely healthy, but to win it with a torn knee ligament? Shades of Toronto Maple Leafs' 1964 playoff hero Bobby Baun, who forced a seventh game in the Stanley Cup final by scoring an overtime winner in Detroit on a broken leg. One thing is certain -- the rest of the golf season, and the final two majors, will be far less intriguing with the world's best player on the sidelines.
Saturday, June 21:
Cito Gaston, welcome to your Toronto Blue Jays. Last night's 1-0, 12-inning loss in Pittsburgh was a microcosm of the Jays' season. Zero runs against a club that had just surrendered 37 runs -- and 10 homers -- in three games, the worst three-game set for Pirates' pitchers in 58 years. Another brilliant pitching performance wasted -- this one from Roy Halladay, who departed after taking a shot off his noggin to end the seventh. And a critical mistake at the worst possible time as usually sure-handed John McDonald misplayed Jason Michaels' grounder in the 12th, allowing the game's only run to trot home. That's six losses in a row and unless things turn around tonight or tomorrow, the locals may be in a nasty mood when the club returns home Tuesday. (Yes, we will check that game out -- it could be a fascinating evening).
What an astonishing end to the Croatia-Turkey Euro 2008 quarterfinal yesterday. After 119 minutes of snooze-inducing play, Croatia finally broke through to score and needed only to play keep-away for one minute. Instead, they were sloppy and found themselves stung by an Turkish equalizer on virtually the very last kick of the match. Emotionally drained, Croatia made a complete hash of the ensuing penalty kicks and the amazing Turks stole yet another game. Can they stun Germany in the semis? I think not, but they're sure the "feel-good" story of this tournament so far.
Sunday, June 22:
Forty-six years. Now how that can be? Forty-six years is a longer period of time than from the turn of the last century to the end of World War II. You can fit 46 years -- just -- into the time frame from the great stock market crash of 1929 to the 1976 American bicentennial. So why does 46 years seem like a short time frame from the date of the first major league baseball game I ever saw live, until today? In standard baseball lore, my dad (who turned 15 on that black 1929 day when $14 billion dollars disappeared in one trading session) took me to Tiger Stadium to see Detroit beat the New York Yankees 7-5. (It was a family affair -- my mom and my aunt -- who worked in Detroit and got the tickets -- also attended). Two days later, on a Sunday, the Yanks would turn the tables 9-7 in a rather famous 22-inning affair. The memory brings to mind the old white ballpark at the corner of Michigan and Trumbull that, sadly, won't be standing for much longer. (One of my all-time dreams was to wander into the empty stadium with a bat and a golf ball, walk up to home plate, jack the Titlist into the left field upper deck, run the bases, grab my bat and return home). When they tear Tiger Stadium down, evidence of the best seats in baseball will disappear, too. The upper deck in Detroit was just 16 rows back from the playing field (it's 26 in both Fenway Park and Wrigley Field, major league baseball's final relics -- and much further in any other major league park). And the upper deck in right field was not only zero rows from the playing field, it hung out by 10 feet! Fly balls would land upstairs for home runs to the chagrin of the right fielder below. Not only will I miss the sights -- even today I'm comforted by spotting the light towers a mile away down Michigan Avenue -- but I'll miss the smell. Tiger Stadium had a unique aroma that would have made someone a fortune if it could have been bottled -- a mixture of beer, hot dogs, bratwursts, sweat, grass, tobacco and soda pop, all baked into the pale yellow tiles underneath the stands. Sounds kinda yucky describing it this way, but you had to be there. And I'm sure glad I was on numerous occasions, starting 46 years ago tonight.
Wednesday, June 25:
They oughta give me free tickets at the Rogers Centre. On my lone visit last season, the Blue Jays waxed the Dodgers 12-1. Last night, I watched them demolish the Reds 14-1. So this team can't hit, eh? They batted around in both the first and second innings -- the first time Toronto has done that since 1997 when Cito Gaston was in the final year of his first stint as Jays manager.
Thank heavens for backups. When I tried to load my pictures onto the computer last night, my destination folder (with all of my pictures over the years) was corrupted. Thankfully, I have a number of copies of all of them for such an emergency and performed a full backup just days ago. So, that's today's job -- and somewhere in the middle of fixing things and restoring pictures, we'll update the site with shots from last night's blowout.
I still can't believe we've lost George Carlin at age 71. A brilliant comic who made us think as well as laugh.
Friday, June 27:
The people you meet at a ballgame. (Some day, I'm going to take a summer off, drive to all 30 major league ballparks and write a book on the folks I chat with in the stands. Last August topped them all when The Bride and I were seated next to rocker-turned-country singer Eddie Money at Fenway Park). Tuesday night, my seatmates in Toronto included an Oxford, England lass who was attending her first baseball game ("Brilliant!", was her description at game's end, despite the lack of drama from a 14-1 blowout). She was in the city on business and her partner was a New Yorker who hates the Yankees (Baltimore's his birthplace). So we took turns explaining the facts of the game to her -- and likely got her more confused as the night went on. In front of us was a family of four from San Jose -- and big Oakland fans -- who were visiting Canada and decided to take in a game at the concrete convertible. We all agreed that the centre field stands in Oakland, built exclusively for football when the Raiders returned, cost the Coliseum its most endearing feature -- the view toward the eastern hills, especially when they're lit brilliantly by a setting sun in the west. I hope they all enjoyed their visit.
It's started. They've erected a fence around Detroit's Tiger Stadium, turned off the electricity, water and gas, and the demolition is at hand. Gone soon will be that magnificent building at 48216. (I memorized the zip code when I was in high school. I know -- I need help!)
They honoured the 1968 World Series champs Tuesday night in Detroit, a club that has been tabbed the most beloved sports team in the history of the Motor City. No argument here. The '68 Tigers brought the city together after the terrible riots of the previous summer. And they won ballgames in dramatic fashion, 42 times when tied or trailing in the seventh inning. They trailed St. Louis three-games-to-one in the World Series, but won game five when pitcher Mickey Lolich, he of the career .110 batting average, was allowed to take his licks with the Tigers just eight outs away from elimination. He singled to start a three-run rally that gave Detroit a 5-3 win. They won game seven when Jim Northrup hit a two-run triple over Curt Food's head in centre field to break up a scoreless pitchers' duel between Lolich and Bob Gibson. The Tigers won 4-1, sending this 15-year-old into joyful hysterics.
Another home run for the Blue Jays last night in their 7-1 romp over Cincinnati. That makes eight in four games, an amazing power surge for a ball club that -- until the weekend -- had a devil of a time reaching the seats.
Saturday, June 28:
I've been meaning to do this for awhile, and have finally done it. I missed the final open house for Miami's Orange Bowl by one day back in January, so I was only able to take pictures from the outside. I've finally posted them -- double-posted them in fact, as they belong on pages for both the Miami Dolphins and Miami Hurricanes. The link is via the "new" button on the home page.
Stouffville has been blessed with great weather over the past decade or so for the Saturday street party portion of the Strawberry Festival. Things look iffy for today, though -- we'll see.
Monday, June 30:
Watching Spain win the European championship of soccer yesterday, I find myself constantly amazed that this was their first major triumph in 44 years. They were deserved 1-0 winners over Germany and when you consider the great players that have come from Espana over the years, it's a wonder they haven't been victorious more often. And it's no surprise that Fernando Torres scored 24 goals for Liverpool in 33 appearances last season. He was nothing short of brilliant yesterday.
Mother Nature did come through Saturday in Stouffville. Some early rain fell but by mid-morning the precipitation ended and the day turned out fine. A lot of new faces in this ever-growing town were taking in their Strawberry Festival street party. Overall though, I think the threat of rain kept the crowds down a bit from last year. Too bad some folks took a pass -- their loss.
The Detroit Tigers are officially at the halfway point of the season -- 81 games -- and for the first time this year, they have a winning record at 41-and-40. They had to on a 15-and-3 run to reach it, but there they are. Whether it means anything, only time will tell. And we may know soon, as the Tigers open a midweek series on the road this evening against the hottest team in baseball, the Minnesota Twins, who have won 11 of 12.
