Radar gunned

Losing a game called in the 5th is shite.

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MLB At Bat

MLB At Bat has to be the most awesome app for the iPhone. I mean, even if you're not a huge baseball fan, the ability to stream live audio, watch video highlights etc. for $9.99 - and now they're adding live video streaming? Seriously awesome. (The live audio already has made my morning commutes so much better - MLB.tv is great and all, but I can't watch it on the subway...)

By the way, I'm on Twitter at @dsng. Unlike my blogs, I'm not separating my Twitter personae. Too confusing.

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Sox Sweep Toronto

And there's the sweep. Catching up on Toronto, Ortiz has a homer (bit too early to say he has his groove back... Stella!), and Paps seems to be throwing good heat.

Now if only those Yankees would stop it with the cheap right field homers. Well, and the winning. It's mostly the winning that annoys me.

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Sox v Yankees

Sox sweep Yankees again. That bullpen of the Yankees is quite horrific. And I am pleased as punch.

Meanwhile, Doug Glanville writes about A-Rod and what pitch tipping involves. Glanville really can write. I don't know whether A-Rod really tipped pitches. And that's one huge allegation, perhaps more than the steroids one. But what does seem saddest to me is A-Rod's seeming desire to be liked, to be looked up to.

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The solace of baseball

The last six months have been the most gut-wrenching ones of my life. Watching my mother go in and out of hospital; watching various tubes inserted to help her eat, breathe, all the common functions we take for granted; gaining the false hope of a discharge only to have her return to the hospital; and finally, the traumatic last 2 weeks, where the infection finally got the better of her.

I haven't been able to update Singapore Sox Fan as much as I'd like under the circumstances. Nor was my mother the greatest of baseball fans; indeed, she didn't know much about the game besides the general idea of going around the bases. But baseball and the Sox were a form of solace in a terrible world. The controlled drama of the World Baseball Classic, where agony and suffering were confined to the field. The rhythms of spring training, signifying renewal and hope. The spell of the daily game, and the comfort of a world where the great fear is that David Ortiz has truly lost his bat speed. The passing of time, out by out, hit by hit, following games over the tiny screen of the phone while waiting outside the ICU and praying and hoping for a miracle.

A Bartlett Giamatti's famous quote on baseball reads: "It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone." And that is true. But the game can comfort too. It can remind you of times where people have springs in their step, and where people have full control of their faculties. Its highs are true highs, bringing unbridled joy and elation. And yet its lows are manageable. Autumn will pass, and then new players will come in, draft picks will make the majors, there will be renewal. Because in baseball, there's always "Wait till next year!". And what I wouldn't give for a next year with my mother.

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World Baseball Classic

Have been following the WBC, but just too overwhelmed by family issues to comment too much. But baseball - real, competitive baseball - is a lovely distraction. As is Manny trying to play cricket.

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Rickey and Rice in the Hall of Fame

Congrats to Rickey Henderson and Jim Rice for making the Hall of Fame. Was always perplexed by the car the Sox gave him in 2002, but it led to one of many funny Rickey being Rickey stories:

25) In the last week of his lone season with the Red Sox, Chairman Tom Werner asked Henderson what he would like for his ‘going-away’ gift. Henderson said he wasn’t going anywhere, but he would like owner John Henry’s Mercedes. Werner said it would be tough to get the same make and model in less than a week and Henderson said, “No, I want his car.” Turns out the Sox got Henderson a Red Thunderbird and when he saw it on the field before the last game of the season, Rickey said, “Whose ugly car is on the field?” (Link)

Speaking of cars, another one of my favourite Rickey details was the fact that he was born in a '57 Chevy.

As for Jim Rice, what more is there to say? I still remain on the fence about his HoF credentials, but am in no doubt that he was one of a great line of players who patrolled the left field beneath the Monster.

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