Blogsquatch And The Doctor Do The Derby

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Hi to everyone. Hope you all caught the Home Run Derby last night. A truly extraordinary feat was accomplished by ya BOI Josh Hamilton. But I'll get to that. Let me first describe my night.

I don't like baseball. I used to play, and I readily gave it up for lacrosse sometime during middle school. However, in bat-and-ball games that I still dabble in, I am nothing short of brilliant. I can hit incredibly well, I can field, and my speed is unmatched. You're probably not surprised. Sorry, that was totally irrelevant. What I'm trying to say is this: even though I would have been a brilliant baseball player had I kept at it, I dislike the sport for its unforgivable degree of boredom. Of course, every sport is dull when compared to the fastest game on Earth, so I'll try to be nice. What baseball lacks in pace, speed, and exciting displays of athleticism it makes up for all of it on the night of the Home Run Derby...

NOT! How could it make up for all of that with one night of glorified batting practice? Somehow, though, it does. That one night is capable of captivating millions of fans and non-fans alike. It gets right to the core of what baseball is at its best: The Moment. Sons of Big Daddy Drew explained this to me once, and I fully buy it. Inning to inning, even avid fans can tell you that baseball is, at most times, a grind. But there are those unforgettable moments, The Moment moments, when even those that don't enjoy watching the game can marvel at the sport that has impassioned Americans for over 100 years. And lastly, the Home Run Derby is usually an amazing display of power and expert technique. Usually.

But this year, many of the game's stars passed on the chance to perform on the biggest stage there is (the last season at Yankee Stadium) in what must be one of the most enjoyable parts of the game for the player: showing off one's unparalleled ability to rip towering bombs into the bleachers. I mean, talk about a "mine is bigger" moment in sports! These big-ego stars should love it. But they're scared. Unless you're injured beforehand (Ortiz gets a pass...until later), you should take full advantage of the opportunity to compete on an individual basis with the best hitters in the league for your pride, your team, and your fans. It's not like the NBA Dunk Contest, where that kind of showboating and flair isn't what some star players are about. It's HITTING HOME RUNS, and all the best players that can and do hit home runs all year long should do it for the derby. Don't even start with the Home Run Derby curse or with "it changes your swing" or anything like that. The players that have been "cursed" never had overly impressive careers in the first place, and if you want to look at how damaged a swing gets because of the derby, take a look at the winner of the 2002 Home Run Derby's stats in the second half.

And besides, even if I grant you those arguments, who gives a crap what Bobby Abreu did in the second half of his Home Run Derby title season? No one. But everyone who saw it remembers his amazing night of 41 in the Derby. That's The Moment, and to quote my good pal SoBDD, "Oh, what a moment!"

Back to our story. I'm not usually one to just rant about something unless I have good reason. And this time is no exception because I was there! Blogsquatch had an extra ticket, so he called me up yesterday during work and invited me down. Although I did have plans with some ladies, how could I refuse box seats seven rows from the field between the home dugout and net behind home plate for my first Home Run Derby ever and the last such event to ever be held in THE YANKEE STADIUM? You're right, I couldn't say no. So without a change of clothes, a toothbrush, contact lenses (although I had my glasses), a camera, or a place to stay, I met Blogsquatch right after work and we did the Derby. Or, as some would say, we diddled the Derby's diddlesworth.

We arrived by ten after six and used our poster-sized tickets (for which we were given lanyards with a plastic case for displaying our tickets around our necks so that we looked like Flava Flav) to gain admittance. We went straight to our seats and watched the media circus that was batting practice for the players not in the Derby, also known as Workout Day. People were all around trying to get autographs and cheering for catches made in the outfield or big hits to the outfield. It was at the very least pleasant, even with the crowds I faced trying to get to the bathroom before the start.

During this time, Blogsquatch pointed out some of the players giving interviews and explained who they were. I'll admit that I only know the rosters of the New York teams and the Red Sox, plus or minus some other big name players across the league, but I don't really know any of the younger, up and coming stars. So Blogsquatch, a Cincinnati fan through and through, had a good time telling me the story of Josh Hamilton's troubled past and his stint with the Reds. Anyway, I drew a liking to the man right away given his full recovery and current dominance. So he was one of my picks to be in the top 4 along with Chase Utley, Grady Sizemore, and Lance Berkman.

As BP broke down and we started getting closer to derby time, the cast of Jersey Boys (not anything close to resembling what I'd call "straight") sang the Anthem as Third Eye Blind prepared to sing a few songs. Now, people paid close attention to the band playing, but more in a "staring at a car crash" way rather than a "Wow, good job, band" way. The band members were gyrating but didn't seem into it, so the crowd just was scared they were hurt or something. By the end of their two song set, I knew only one thing: the lead singer looks like Gollum.

At some point before or after the band they did a tribute to Reggie Jackson, which was special. The home runs he hit in the World Series game that they were showing on the screen, the way he talked about his style of play and the way he talked about how he'd have loved to dominate the Home Run Derby even today was just a classy touch.

Anyway, the first round went pretty slow. Two batters, then commercial breaks. There were a few decent shots, but nothing that really got the New York crowd going besides a few great grabs by some of the kids in the field.

Then Josh stepped up.

I remember feeling bad because he had been iced with the extra commercial they threw in just before his chance at the plate. He was really itching to go. You could just see it. I also was excited for him because of the story Blogsquatch had told me about the guy and because THE Derek Jeter predicted he would win. Then, they came.

The monster shots we'd been waiting for. One after another, Josh just KILLED the ball, hitting it deep into the upper deck near the rightfield foul pole, hitting it deep up the wall in rightfield above the bleachers, and hitting one of his first five hits OUT OF THE BALLPARK on the right side of the park (maybe not over the white fence, but through the gap, and it was still awesome)! This brought the crowd to its feet. As SoBDD was quick to inform me today, only one player has ever even been said to have hit it out of Yankee Stadium, a player in the negro league back in the day, and that claim is thought to be rumor and myth. So even if Josh's swing didn't CLEANLY go over that storied, towering, pristine white fence in right field, the one separating the ballpark from heaven and history, it was still an epic swing in every sense of the word.

After something like 10 pitches, the entire crowd was on its feet. He was on fire, and quickly surpassed the totals of the other three competitors that would make the semis... combined. He was loose but fierce, focused but still able to take a bow with a smile on his face. So he reached somewhere about 10, and the shenanigans started. People giving him drinks, slapping his butt, putting impediments in the way of the plate, walking off in disbelief (which might have been the only one I found tasteless... Ortiz). Someone even brought his pitcher a drink and a towel. But still he CRUSHED onwards. With eight outs, Josh hit thirteen home runs in a row. He finished with 28 in the first round, and it was one of the most impressive things I've ever seen, let alone in person. The ease with which he consistently hit some of the farthest home runs New York has EVER seen was astonishing, and I'm very happy I was there. It made all the players refusing to participate look weak and scared. None could have stood up to Josh.

We all know the rest. He hit a few in the second round, cruising to the final versus Morneau, and then he just didn't have it anymore. It's tiring to hit 35 home runs! I thought that he might slow down, but it wasn't a surprise to anyone. Afterward, everyone was upset for a moment (as everyone in the stadium had cheered for him to win), but then we realized that it's a stupid trophy anyway. What mattered was the first round show, the 28 home runs, the record, the incredible performance, and most importantly, The Moment. This certainly was a moment, one that Josh had apparently foreseen.

I don't think I'll soon forget that night. Probably my last ever at Yankee Stadium, and I got to see history.

And that history was made by a guy who had problems, fought through them, returned to baseball, worked hard, and made himself into a legend by putting on a performance the likes of which had never been seen, even in the House That Ruth Built.

At least not by a whiny, egotistical brat like Alex Rodriguez.