On the Eve of the NBA Playoffs, 500 Words About the Celtics and My Dad

They say baseball is a father and son game. Noted scribes and movie producers have focused countless hours on the subject. Field of Dreams is probably my favorite movie. But for my father and me, basketball is it. When I was a little guy, a bedtime break from Aesop’s Fables or Mother Goose meant an hour-long discussion with Dad about the Celtics of old: the tenacity of Russell, the steady class of Satch Sanders, and just how good Charlie Scott was in the ’76 playoffs. My Dad talked to me about playing on the parquet floor as a kid in the 1960’s. And he taught me his #1 weapon: the hook shot. For years, he would end our one-on-one battles in the driveway with a sweeping lefty hook. Later, in high school, I plied my trade as a big-time rebounder with a basic offensive game – that same hook shot. I always made more than I missed, and I never had it blocked. Thanks, Dad.

Living on the Cape and not having a ton of money, going into Boston was a treat. Most games we watched on a black & white TV in the spare room upstairs with Mike Gorman and Tommy providing a description of the action as DJ harassed the opposing team’s point guard, Bird stuck a huge three in Nique’s face, or McHale, all arms and legs, got to the basket for two. “At center, seven feet, one-half inches from Centenary, number double-zero Robert Parish.” Chief. Chief. Chief. We would howl.

My first visit to the Garden was January 17, 1992, a 98-95 Celtics win over the 76ers. While I had to look up the box score online, so many things from that night stick with me, completely unrelated to the final result. My first time on the T. Our seats in the balcony (mine was behind a pole, so I had to sit on Dad’s lap). The players looking like ants. Wanting to see the giant 7’7” Manute Bol and my disappointment when Charles Shackleford started at center for the 76ers. My favorite player, Robert Parish, scoring his 20,000^th NBA point. Years later, I visited the Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield and saw the game ball from that very night. A few years after that, I met the Chief himself and told him just how cool I thought that was.

In the last few years, Dad’s health has failed considerably. As I got older and moved to the Boston area, Dad and I would attend one game a year, usually when Dikembe Mutombo came to town. We loved him. And now, every couple of weekends, I’ll head down to the Cape and we’ll watch a game together, sometimes staying up all night flipping through NBA League Pass and talking hoops. In June 2008, when the Celtics beat the Lakers in Game 6, the Sylver house was rocking.

Celtics Basketball and my Dad. Each memory brings a smile to my face, and every new memory the Celtics produce brings another smile that makes me think of the times Dad and I have shared over the last 28 years.

Buy Now, Pay Later

Just in case you've been living under a rock, the Red Sox reportedly reeled in big-time free agent Carl Crawford last night for seven years and $142 million. This, less than a week after they traded for top-flight first baseman Adrian Gonzalez. The two moves put the Sox on the short list of World Series favorites for 2011.

I didn't write anything about the Gonzalez deal because I thought it was pretty cut-and-dried: the Sox traded three of their top prospects for a masher in the prime of his career. OK. The prospects were great - a potential ace (Casey Kelly), a guy (Raymond Fuentes) tagged as "the next Jacoby Ellsbury," and a first baseman (Anthony Rizzo) who could be swinging the bat just like Gonzalez in five years. But they're called "prospects" for a reason. They've never played in the big leagues and we have no way of knowing what they will do at that level. We all remember what happened to the last Red Sox pitching prospect named Casey (see Fossum)...

But the Crawford deal - that was a lightning rod for me. There is little doubt he makes the lineup better: they've now got two .300, 50-steal guys in the outfield, an All-Star second baseman, possibly the best corner guys in all of baseball, and 35-year old David Ortiz, who can still hit moonshots. The Sox will score plenty of runs next year, as they did last year with a number of AAA players filling in from one to nine. If the pitching staff can do what they're supposed to, the Sox will win 99 games and represent the American League in the 2011 World Series against the Chicago Cubs (ha, okay, I'm sorry). But I can't help but be bothered by the terms of the deal: hear me out.

Just yesterday The Hardball Times featured an article on bad, untradeable contracts, featuring such luminaries as Alfonso Soriano, Carlos Lee, Vernon Wells, Aaron Rowand, Jason Bay, and northern Chicago racism magnate, Kosuke Fukudome. These players have a number of things in common. They're all outfielders. When they were signed, they were all very good players. But nowadays, they are all definied by the horrible long-term deals teams lavished upon them. These things almost never work out, and within a couple of years, guys who clearly got money because they could run (Soriano, Wells) aren't stealing bases or legging out triples anymore. Mark my words: in a few years, we will talk about Carl Crawford in the very same way.

The Red Sox brain trust has never handed out a 7-year deal, and never for more than $20 million a season. The last guy to get that kind of money was Manny Ramirez, and he was signed by Dan Duquette, a man who won't be called anything less than a genius by me, but whom everyone around here just loves to make fun of (it's not like he built the  nucleus of 2004 title team, after all). Theo and the silly goose owners have let good, even great players walk over pennies compared to what Crawford just signed for (look at what happened with Victor Martinez a couple weeks ago) Whatever fiscal policy they had just went right out the window, and I have to wonder why this is the exception after eight years, six playoff appearances and two World Series titles.

Some people think the Crawford deal is great to "tweak the Yankees": make them spend more to compete with Boston's free agent haul. The Lackey deal last year supposedly "tweaked the Yankees," and how did that work out? They took the best pitcher available at big money when they didn't necessarily need him. Then, he had the worst season of his career. I've got news for you, boys, tweaking the Yankees ain't gonna work, 'cause they'll always have more money than you.

And looking past 2011, the Sox have really put themselves at a competitive disadvantage by throwing their fiscal policy to the wind. On Tuesday, Peter Abraham detailed the team's projected roster for 2012, and I quote, "based on only eight players, the Sox have already spent roughly $90 million for 2012. If you add Crawford or Lee, that figure balloons to at least $110 million and you're accounting for only nine of 25 players. That's not a good balance." Damn right, Peter. I'd love to know how Theo and the geese are going to fill out that 2012 roster when they're spending all their money on nine guys. It'll probably come with a sweet increase in ticket prices! Sweeeeet Caroliiiiine!!! Ba, ba, baaahhhh!!!

Furthermore, I gotta wonder about the goods. I realize saying Carl Crawford isn't a great player could seriously erode any credibility I've built up to this point in this genius blog. But I feel he's just a very good player - a "fantasy stud" who is overvalued because of the tools and potential he possessed at age 23. Did he ever make the leap to "elite" status? He's never hit 20 home runs in a season. He wasn't ever "the man" in Tampa - he was just a piece, and the year the Rays went to the World Series, he was injured and had a down year. That was Longoria's team, Upton's team. Other than the speed, what is there that warrants $142 million? He's a .300 hitter with marginal power. I would argue that you DO NOT sign .300 hitters with marginal power to seven year deals, particularly for that kind of money.

After all, the Sox had a player like that once, Johnny Damon (7th on Crawford's Baseball Reference comp list), and they balked. Let him go to New York because they didn't want to give him an extra year. Mark my words: in a few years, Carl Crawford will be the Johnny Damon of today, that .300 hitter with marginal power and old legs. We'll want him and his albatross contract out of town. But that doesn't mean anything today, because the Sox "tweaked" the Yankees with this one.

They may also win the 2011 World Series.

All or Nothing...Almost

If the regular season had a Super Bowl, this is it. Win and you're on the fast track for the #1 seed in the AFC. Lose and you're staring at three road games to even make it to the big game. Do work.

Kickin' It Old School

My homeboy at work shared this picture with me today: http://www.flickr.com/photos/gmack24/2869525581/in/set-72157611362661064/

Look at those old logos! Amazing how a lot of teams have kept the same logo over the last 28 years, while others on that page have changed their logo maybe 4-5 times since '82.

He loved the Milwaukee Brewers logo. I'm diggin' the old San Diego Padre - look at that happy swingin' man of the cloth!

What's your favorite old school MLB logo? Leave a comment.

Spark Notes

When I was a kid, I always sort of liked the Detroit Tigers. They played in this old-school ballpark halfway across the country. They were never a real threat to the Red Sox in the late-80's/early 90's, which made it acceptable to like them. They were great in RBI Baseball. And they had some fascinating Topps baseball cards that told me Cecil Fielder popped 51 home runs in 1991, that Alan Trammel was MVP-level awesome, Lou Whitaker was one of the best second basemen in the game, Chet Lemon had a funny name, and Dave Bergman had a great mustache. Their roster was stocked with all-or-nothing sluggers like Matt Nokes and Darrell Evans, and later Mickey Tettleton and Rob Deer. Kirk Gibson was the epitome of a term Boston fans love to use, "dirt dog." And when Travis Fryman arrived, he quickly blossomed into one of the best third basemen of the 90's. No matter they didn't get above 88 wins from 1988 (when I was in kindergarten) until 2006 (when I was in grad school); they were an entertaining bunch, those Detroit Tigers.

Their manager was a guy who, on every baseball card, looked about 20 years older than he actually was. It wasn't the lighting or the hat or the uniform or his mood, Sparky Anderson looked like he was competing with Connie Mack to be the oldest guy to ever manage a baseball team. And even though those late 80's/early 90's Tigers teams weren't all that good, there was something about having this old, folksy guy named "Sparky" at the helm that added to the Tigers' cool, throwback feel, even though they didn't have any pitching and finished in the second division most of the time. Now, my juvenile research also showed me that Sparky was a legend with three World Series titles to his name, two with the "Big Red Machine" and a 104-win 1984 campaign with the Tigers. When he retired he was third all-time in wins. Sparky Anderson was pretty much the man.

He was also one of baseball's good guys. Yesterday, a friend of mine posted this Sparky quote on his facebook wall: "It doesn't cost anything to be nice to people." How simple, yet entirely true is that? Sparky Anderson managed a 25-man roster of millionaires (50 men if you count their egos) traveling all over the country, yet he thought that was important. Why can't we remember that on a day-to-day basis?

Sparky Anderson died yesterday at age 76. My first thought was, "wait, he was only 76?" My second thought was, along with Ernie Harwell, the world lost two great Detroit Tigers this year. Both great men. They will be missed.