There’s no secret.

There’s no special food.

There’s no trick.

There’s no “easy way.”

As many times as I’ve tried to find other ways, I’ve discovered there is one surefire way to lose weight. It’s damn simple, but one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It just doesn’t fit into an advertising jingle: exercise more and stop eating junk food.

But the thing is, you’ve got to really want it. If you think of weight loss as something temporary, like you’re just going on this diet for a month, for a year, until your reunion, so you can fit into an old pair of jeans or a dress… it will be temporary. One big thing that Weight Watchers taught me is that to really lose weight and keep it off, stop thinking that you’re on a diet. You’re making lifestyle changes. For good.

It doesn’t have to be cold turkey, unless that’s how you quit addictions. Make moderate, gradual changes. Start packing lunch at home instead of grabbing a sandwich or food at a restaurant for work. Just try it for one week, then one more week. It will become routine. Go for a walk one morning. Pick one day a week. Next week, go to two days. Week after that? Three days. Your body will adjust and soon enough, it will crave that morning walk. You will feel weird when you sleep in. This is a good thing.

As soon as I got a gym membership, I figured I’d play this smart. I decided to take a class, so that I’d have some kind of structure. At the very worst, the presence of other people would guilt me into staying. And I did. I took a spin class Monday mornings at 5:30 a.m. I had never even touched a spin bike. I lasted 30 minutes that first week, but it was OK with me. That’s 30 more minutes than I had done last week. That’s progress.

I took a couple days off after that. I took an aerobics/step/weight class on Thursday, taught by a woman they called “G.I. Kim.” She didn’t like breaks. By the time the hour was over, my shirt was absolutely soaked with sweat. It looked like someone turned a hose on me. But that feeling I got right after the class was over… I can’t describe it. It was addicting and I wanted more of it. I felt accomplished, and the classmates encouraged me. Taking classes at the local gym helps you get some semblance of structure (now I’m going three times a week for an hour each time) and you make friends who keep you on track.

Again, nothing too life-changing. It all just started with one class. Then I built from that. Now if I don’t work out one week, my body just doesn’t feel right. The human body is an amazing thing. It adapts to changes, both positive and negative. This is really the first time in my life I started making widely positive changes. Trust in your body.

Next step? Cut back on bad food. I made a New Year’s Resolution last year to not eat a bite of fast food. That was huge for me. All throughout college, I was more focused on my job and classes. Myself (and my health) came a distant third. I was working as an editor for the school newspaper, taking 20 units of classes and interning/freelancing for the big daily newspaper. I was 20, 21 years old and basically all I knew about cooking was ordering out, putting something quick in the oven or microwave or throwing meat on the George Foreman Grill. On top of that, when I got home, I was exhausted. I didn’t feel like cooking at all. So I ate fast food on a damn near daily basis.

That was about four years ago. It took until last year to realize that I need to come first. You should too. I started carving out time for myself and cooking, even with my limited skills. I found out that there’s some delicious food out there that doesn’t come on a dollar menu. Plus I can make turkey burgers that are exponentially tastier than McDonalds. For those, like me, who can’t cook worth a damn, find substitutions. I buy Lean Cuisine or Weight Watchers pizza when I have that craving. When I want a burger, I make a turkey burger on a thin bun. This doesn’t work for everyone, but I’ve found it works for me.

Does it taste the same? No.

Is it 100x better for your body? Yes.

That’s the important thing. Small changes to your diet and to your daily routine.

When I decided to give up on fast food, it was tough. To get home, I drove past Burger King, Jack in the Box and Wendy’s. Every day. After a long stressful day, I just wanted to grab three things off the 99 cent menu and call it dinner. I just told myself that I can get through one day. After that day, I can get through the week. After that week? I can get through the month.

After two months, I rarely craved it. I still wanted it, for sure, but I knew that the consequences far outweighed the rewards.

I stopped worrying about the scale, something that’s very hard as a Weight Watcher. There was a two-month period where I’d work my ass off (literally) at the gym, and gain weight. I kept under my points limit, but my body was trying to hold onto weight. After a long period of frustration… I just went with it. I focused on the positive (my increased health) instead of the negative (temporary weight gain). I knew that the pounds didn’t come from eating garbage. Once I let go of being so scale-obsessed, I was able to just enjoy my life.

You can too. Just don’t look for shortcuts.

Apparently, this guy was the worst baseball player of the 2000s

Wins Above Replacement, WAR, is a stat showing basically how much better a certain player is than an average, replacement-level player. Click here for a better explanation. Basically, a 0.0 WAR player is no better or no worse than the everyday player. He won’t make an All-Star team, but he’s hitting above the Mendoza Line. Note that I’m not that stat-oriented, but I’ll give it a shot.

Examples of today’s players who were about average last season (via Fangraphs… and I’m trying to use basic stats to give a more fungible idea):

Jorge Cantu, 0.0 WAR – .256 avg/11 HR/.304 OBP

Ryan Theriot, 0.0 WAR – .270/2/.321

Carlos Quentin, 0.0 WAR – .243/26/.342

Three of the best:

Josh Hamilton, 8.0 WAR – .359/32/.411

Joey Votto, 7.4 WAR – .324/37/.424

Albert Pujols, 7.3 WAR – .312/42/.414

So this made me wonder… if we can use WAR to measure the players who have been the best, why can’t we use it to figure out who has been the worst?

According to WAR, last year’s worst player with enough ABs to qualify? The Melk Man.

Melky Cabrera, -1.2 WAR – .255 avg/4 HR/42 RBI/.317 OBP

The scary part? Cabrera might open the year as a starting center fielder… granted, for the Royals, but… here… I’ll let Joe Posnanski explain.

Then (Brewers manager Ned Yost) started talking about (prospect Lorrenzo) Cain, talked about his athleticism, how he and Escobar can help the Royals offense “just with their legs alone.” Then it all took a terrible turn.

“He’s a center fielder,” Yost told Bob about Cain. “But we’ll see where it fits in. I’m not projecting anything right now. We’ve signed Melky Cabrera (to play center field), and Lorenzo Cain only has (147) big-league at-bats.”

Uh oh. Bob asked Ned Yost about Cain … and the words “Melky” and “Cabrera” were in the answer? Melky Cabrera of the 83 OPS+ and .317 on-base percentage last year? Melky Cabrera of the minus-21 on the Dewan Plus/Minus for outfield defense last year (minus-9 in center fielder where he only played 385 innings)? Melky Cabrera of the minus-1.2 WAR last year — which made him by Fangraphs ratings the worst everyday player in baseball? That Melky Cabrera?

So I decided to dig a little deeper. Below the cut are the worst players from 2000-2010.

Angels: Brandon Wood, -2.6 WAR
Astros: Pedro Feliz, -1.5 WAR
A’s: Antonio Perez, -1.3 WAR
Blue Jays: Dave Berg, -1.5 WAR
Braves: Melky Cabrera, -1.2 WAR
Brewers: Marquis Grissom, -1.5 WAR
Cardinals: Roger Cedeño, -1.5 WAR
Cubs: Aaron Miles, -1.4 WAR
Diamondbacks: Jose Cruz, -1.1 WAR
Dodgers: Jason Grabowski, -1.5 WAR
Giants: Jose Vizcaino, -0.7 WAR
Indians: Josh Barfield, -1.6 WAR
Mariners: Matt Tuiasosopo, -1.1 WAR
Marlins: Reggie Abercrombie, -1.1 WAR
Mets: Anderson Hernandez/Jay Bell, -0.7 WAR
Nationals/Expos: Peter Bergeron, -4.1 (wow)
Orioles: Lou Montanez, -1.4 WAR
Padres: Chris Gomez, -1.6 WAR
Phillies: Kevin Jordan, -1.6 WAR
Pirates: Jose Castillo, -1.6 WAR
Rangers: Ricky Ledee, -2.0 WAR
Rays: Damion Easley, -1.3 WAR
Red Sox: Tony Clark, -1.4 WAR (Scott Hatteberg is 3rd, -1.1 WAR)
Reds: Ray Olmedo, -1.6 WAR
Rockies: Brent Butler, -1.8 WAR
Royals: Dee Brown, -3.6 WAR (Neifi Perez, -3.4 WAR)
Tigers: Craig Paquette, -2.2 WAR
Twins: Rondell White, -2.1 WAR
White Sox: Andy Gonzalez/Timo Perez -2.2 WAR
Yankees: Tony Womack, -2.3 WAR

The five worst A’s in that time period:

1. Antonio Perez, -1.3 WAR
2. Eric Karros, -1.0 WAR
3. Esteban German, -0.8 WAR
4. Jose Ortiz, -0.8 WAR
5. Mark Bellhorn, Keith Ginter, Chris Singleton, Ron Gant, Barry Zito, John Jaha all had -0.7 WAR.

Barry Zito was more valuable with a bat in his hands than Antonio Perez. Sounds about right.

The five worst Giants from 2000-2010:

1. Jose Vizcaino, -0.7 WAR
2. Ricky Ledee, -0.6 WAR
3. Brian Bocock, -0.6 WAR
4. Ivan Ochoa, -0.6 WAR
5. Alex Sanchez, -0.6 WAR … Note: John Bowker was probably the worst Giants batter to see major PT, with -0.5 WAR

Best qualifying players since 1871?

1. Babe Ruth, 177.7 WAR
2. Barry Bonds, 169.7 WAR
3. Ty Cobb, 163.9 WAR
4. Willie Mays, 163.2 WAR
5. Hank Aaron, 150.5 WAR

And the worst in that timeframe?

Jim Lillie, who played outfield from 1883-1886 for the Buffalo Bisons (which once employed Old Hoss Radbourn) and the Kansas City Cowboys of the National League. In Lillie’s best year, 1884 with the Bisons, he hit for a .223 avg., had a .231 on-base percentage, batted in a career-high 53 runs… all for a WAR of 0.0. Average. He was also good in the field.

His worst year was his last, with the Cowboys. In 427 PA’s, Lillie hit .175, had an OBP of .197, struck out 19.2% percent of the time, hit 0 home runs and had 22 RBI. Though he did swipe 13 bags. Altogether? -3.3 WAR that season.

Career WAR? -5.0

He also sadly died 4 years after his playing days were done.

A couple years ago, my uncle took his life. It still feels so recent, so fresh.

Now, I don’t really know how to feel. There are so many emotions. There’s anger, that he’d so something so stupid, so foolish, so easily preventable. That certain forces got him to that point. That he couldn’t stop himself. That we didn’t stop him. That we didn’t help. That she’s still alive and he’s gone. That I can’t just call him up today. That he’s not going to be here for Christmas. That he wasn’t here for Thanksgiving. That he didn’t think of his daughter. That he didn’t think of us. That he didn’t… well… I don’t know.

Then there’s confusion. Over why it got that to that point. Over why he thought it was that bad. Over how when he solved his problem, he caused a million more. Over why it happened at all. Over what do we all do now?

There’s sadness. There’s regret. Then some more sadness, more anger, and it just starts all over again.

I guess now because it’s the holidays, I can’t stop thinking about him. It seems like there’s something, one little thing that happens every day, and I don’t know what to do. When I watch the Cowboys, I think about how he convinced me when I was a little boy that they were the team I should root for. I remember watching Troy Aikman, Emmitt Smith and Michael Irvin and those amazing mid-90s teams and thinking about him. I remember riding in his truck one time when I was older. He had the song “The Boys Are Back In Town,” playing a little too loud for me, but I didn’t care. I just enjoyed being with him. Now, whenever that song comes on my iPod, it makes me miss him, but it makes me happy. He was a really great guy. Lately, I’ve been listening to CMT in the mornings as I get ready for work. A few days, they’ll have Alcohol by Brad Paisley. My uncle battled alcoholism for most of his life and that song was played at his funeral. CMT had a top songs of the decade show recently, and Whiskey Lullaby was one of the choices. I had to turn the channel immediately.

I just don’t know how I should feel or what I should do now. I wish there was something, anything, I could do to just bring him back for five minutes. There’s never that kind of closure that they talk about in other kinds of deaths. It’s just ongoing. Some days, it frustrates the hell out of me that I can’t just call him anymore and tell him how much I love him and how much he means to me.

Sure, San Francisco fans. A valid point. Also, should the Oakland Raiders be motivated by their recent thumping of

I know which team he's not rooting for. Good enough for me.

the Denver Broncos and go on some miracle run to the Super Bowl, I’ll be asking you 49er fans why your face isn’t painted silver and black every Sunday. It’s all Bay Area, right?

Wrong.

Giants fans may not see the A’s as your rival, but A’s fans do, in a weird “Oakland is the stepchild of San Francisco” way. Rooting for the Giants, especially now, is like selling out and jumping on a bandwagon. I don’t jump on bandwagons. As BANG columnist Tony Hicks mentions in his column, yeah, A’s fans are a bit jealous. We don’t do panda hats. We don’t care for giant Coke-bottle slides or bad facial hair. And really, we’re just as sick of the torture as you are.

We’ve been watching and perhaps even taking a silent interest in your playoff run. But your bandwagon is far too crowded. Maybe we don’t want your team to fall apart. But if two or three wheels came off the wagon while barreling down championship hill, dumping a few thousand people who wouldn’t know Orlando Cepeda from Orlando, Fla., onto their freshly painted orange heads, you’d see no tears over here.

Jealous? Hell yes, we’re jealous. And hell no, we won’t wear orange and black, even if it is Halloween.

But here’s the real torture for us. You have a future. We don’t. Not as the “Oakland” A’s.

A’s fans don’t want to celebrate what Giants fans have — a shiny new stadium, great attendance, a successful team that can poke out a run or two and an ownership that actually embraces the main fanbase. We want it to ourselves. A’s fans watched in the background as the Giants broke ground on Pac Bell SBC AT&T Park, made the World Series run in 2002 and as they cheered for every Barry Bonds blast that went kerplunk into McCovey Cove. We saw a Moneyball offense that was barely good enough for Tim Hudson, Mark Mulder and Barry Zito to manage a few wins, a tight-fisted ownership in the early part of the decade that wouldn’t pay for budding stars, a handful of first-round playoff exits and later an owner who has not exactly been secret about his disdain for Oakland.

When it comes down it, really the only two things the A’s have over the Giants are the four championships and the fact that Brad Pitt will probably never play Brian Sabean in a movie. Tim Lincecum could walk any most any store in San Francisco and be mobbed. Trevor Cahill, Brett Anderson and Gio Gonzalez? Maybe only some A’s fans could pick them out of a crowd.

There is a clear and distinct separation between San Francisco and Oakland (aside from, you know, the San Francisco Bay) that I view like Yankees/Mets, Dodgers/Angels and so on. Yeah, we’re all from the same area, but it’s different. I can’t be happy for the Giants, mainly because they’re not my team. This is how most A’s fans feel, although there are a few “Bay Area” fans. I can’t see it that way. Neither can a lot of Oakland fans.

So, yes, we’re jealous. Every time we see your big, stupid, beautifully perfect ballpark overlooking your big, stupid beautifully perfect half of the Bay Bridge, we stomp our feet and wonder why you get rewarded for no championships in 55 seasons, while four titles in 38 gets us limbo in a rotten stadium.

Brentwood - home of the cornfest

So, I’ve finally found employment and I couldn’t ask for a better situation. I had two very solid offers — one which would have me covering high school/community sports in Marin County and the other would have me doing roughly the same area in Brentwood, where I grew up.

I took the latter, and as time goes along, I’m happy I did. I love writing for Patch, and I really hope they are the future of journalism, because the industry could really use some hope right now. But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to work where I was an intern while studying at Los Medanos College. Unlike Marin (where I would’ve had to either pay a lot in gas or pay a toll to get to work), I know the Brentwood/Antioch/Oakley area pretty well. Everything just feels right here.

I found a sweet studio in Antioch only a few blocks from where I once lived in middle school. I’ve got the support of family living in the area, too. I’m familiar with the high schools (Liberty, Freedom, Antioch, Deer Valley and Heritage) and I’m pretty sure a few of the coaches I’ve talked to are still there. At least, I hope so.

I’ve lived all over California and in parts of Missouri and Montana, but I’d like to say I kinda grew up in East Contra Costa County. There’s something to be said about moving back to where your “roots” are. I feel very comfortable in this area, where I don’t really need to use my GPS or look up directions to go somewhere. I’m pretty close to some of my best friends I’ve missed while living in San Diego, Stockton and on the central coast. Now, instead of having to make a weekend trip to the Bay Area, I can just head over to a friend’s place for a bit. It’s liberating. I’ve walked, taken the bus and driven all over this area. It’s like going home, but now I’m on my own. Considering I was looking at places in Richmond and Vallejo, I’m pretty happy to call a nice area of Antioch my home.

I’m really looking forward to this next step in my life, and hope it’s a successful one all around.

The Oakland Coliseum

Network Associates Coliseum/McAfee Coliseum/Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum:

“(Oakland) is this kind of town: You have to pay 50 cents to go from Oakland to San Francisco. Coming to Oakland from San Francisco is free.” – Jim Murray

I’ve been here a time or two. I remember my first game, where Matt Stairs hit the game-winning home run and became my favorite player. I’ve seen Marco Scutaro hit a game-winning home run off the infallible Mariano Rivera. I’ve seen Erubiel Durazo do the same against the fallible Jason Grimsley. I’ve seen a man start a fight with another man after he said something about his mother, all this happening three rows above me in the now-tarped third deck after medics tended to a concussed Johnny Damon. I’ve stayed there overnight for the filming of a Brad Pitt movie. I’m slightly familiar with the place.

There’s a distinctive vibe about Oakland and the Coliseum that I love. Yes, Oakland is not San Francisco. Yes, the Coliseum is not AT&T Park. But there’s a certain charm to both. Both Oakland and the Coliseum have their warts (East Oakland, Mt. Davis, etc.), but they embrace them. There’s a certain confidence to both, like even though there are flaws, they are perfect to the people who want to see it that way. Instead of an inferiority complex to The City, there’s a feeling of “Yeah, we’re not San Francisco, and we don’t want to be!”

My feelings about Oakland, as an outsider who spent most of his time in East Contra Costa County, can be pretty much summarized in the Oaklandish logo. There’s a sense of renewed ownership among the people who live in Oakland. They want to call this city home, make it their own and restore a sense of place to an area of which Gertrude Stein famously remarked, “there is no there there.”

Instead of a picturesque view of the Bay, the Coliseum offers 20 yards of foul room and a view of the Al Davis-backed monstrosity of cheap bleachers and expensive luxury boxes. It doesn’t try to upsell you on anything. It’s brutally honest, no frills, a here’s-what-you-get kind of place. I admire that.

80s night at AT&T Park

Pac Bell/SBC/AT&T Park, San Francisco:

I’m pretty sure, naturally, this is the second ballpark I’ve been to. I didn’t start following the sport until about 1999 or so, and I didn’t quite have money as a teenager to head to San Francisco for a game.

I’m pretty much willing to say that AT&T Park is the nicest ballpark in California, granted its only real competition is Petco in San Diego. It’s pricey, but it’s a great baseball experience for the money. The best view in the park isn’t on the field level, but in the 3rd deck, behind home plate, where I always try to get tickets. While you’re eating some of the best garlic fries in existence, you can see a picturesque view of the Bay and one of the best rotations in the league. Renel, who is the only female PA announcer in MLB, is a definite treat to hear, as well. Aside from 80s Night, where both the A’s and Giants dressed up in awesome throwbacks, I haven’t really seen any game of importance there.

I also dislike Panda hats, but that’s another story.

There’s a funny story I love about the Giants’ park, regarding the bullpens and their placement on the field instead of behind center field. I can’t recall where I heard or read this story, but I did find something on Deadspin that may prove this correct. When they were building then-Pac Bell Park, designers forgot about the bullpens, so they were just kind of stashed near the outfield corners.

Great view of Highway 57 and the Honda Center

Angel Stadium, Anaheim:

Although I’m an A’s fan, I love going to Angel Stadium. The ushers, who all wear barbershop quartet-style hats and vests, are pretty cordial. The ballpark isn’t too expensive. All in all, it’s a great venue to catch a game. People whine that it’s too “Disney-fied,” but in a weird way, I kind of like that. It’s a friendly place and parking is plentiful. The most memorable moment I’ve seen? Well, all I can remember is sitting in left field and watching Jack Cust make an error on a fly ball most Little Leaguers would catch with ease. Cust even used two hands in the attempt.

Another thing I love about Angel Stadium (which is in Anaheim, a good 35 minutes to nearly 2 hours from Los Angeles) is the placement of the bullpens, one stacked on top of the other like Yankee Stadium. Since I’m poor/cheap, but enjoy taking good photos, I usually seek out the bullpen. Anaheim’s bullpen is by the left field seats, so quality picture taking is easy. Angel Stadium also usually has some of the cheapest beer of any ballpark. Thanks, Arte Moreno!

One thing I hate about Angel Stadium? You guessed it. But it’s not just the Rally Monkey. While I’m sure there are a great number of Angels fans who rooted for the team before Tony Danza ever threw a pitch, many fans seem to only cheer when told to. I often feel over-stimulated with “GET LOUD!” and other various cheering prompts on the scoreboards. When the jumbotron no longer tells fans to cheer, most stop. It’s a weird, almost Pavlovian thing to witness.

View from the right field bleachers

Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles:

So, after a few “all-you-can-drink” Cokes during a Diamondbacks/Dodgers game, I had to go to the bathroom, as you can imagine. I head to the head, when I hear probably the most majestic voice to grace my ears. Vin Scully. I waited in the dingy bathroom for a bit, soaking up the contrast. That’s probably why the line was so long, people wanted to hear Vin as long as possible. Next time I go to Dodger Stadium, I’ll bring a Walkman.

My friend and I got bleacher seats for the game, since, well, we were both broke and they were all-you-can-eat. One thing that bugged me about the stadium was that the bleachers are totally separate from the rest of the park. While I’d rather not get into the possible reasons of why they don’t allow the riff-raff to mingle with the other sections, it was annoying. I wasn’t really able to walk around and get a sense of the park. There’s a separate entrance only for bleacher tickets, and there’s no way to get to the other sections once you’re inside. Oh well. It’s still an absolutely beautiful park, one just oozing with history. I’ve only been to one game, but hopefully I’ll head down for a game or two next season.

Steve Garvey, Tony Gwynn, Dave Winfield, Randy Jones, Jackie Robinson

Petco Park, San Diego:

I was ecstatic when one of my all-time favorite players — Greg Maddux — signed with the San Diego Padres. After the Daily Aztec was put to bed one day, I hurried to Petco Park, grabbing the cheapest seat available. I was anxious to watch Maddux, who was at 349 wins at the time. Even though by that point, Maddux’s pin-point control wasn’t always there and he was just a 6-inning pitcher, he did not disappoint. Getting to see win #350, a milestone that probably never be reached again, was something I’ll never forget.

Petco Park is a beautiful place to watch a game, set right smack dab in the heart of downtown San Diego — the Gaslamp District. The trolley takes you right to the game, and for $5, you can watch the game in “The Park in the Park,” which has a video screen on the other side of the batter’s eye. I tried explaining that concept to an old, drunken/high man who was sitting next to me one day. The next inning, when his buddy came back from the bathroom, he explained in perfect Cheech dialect that the video screen allows people to see the action “through the batters eyes.”

A few features distinguish Petco from other ballparks — the Randy Jones slugger dog (behind center field, highly recommended), the sand pit for kids in right field, the Western Metal Supply Co. building in left field and the wide open concourses (a much-needed respite from the crowded Coliseum walkways). I also had the opportunity to see Petco Park as a reporter, when SDSU’s baseball team played Michigan on the big-league field. Not used to receiving food when covering games, I bought a hot dog and a Coke before heading up to the press box, where I saw a popcorn machine and Coke soda fountain. Breathtaking view from the box, though.

Downsides? It’s pricey, the entire 2nd deck is for club patrons and the Padres have the creepiest mascot in baseball, by far — the Swinging Friar.

A nature walk to the bullpen

Coors Field, Denver:

The latest of my visiting ballpark visits, Coors Field was a great place to catch a game. I love the pictured foliage in the bullpen (above), the brewery inside the ballpark and the purple row of seats, 5,280 miles above sea level. As I try to do every time I see a new stadium, I usually sit in the cheap seats (mine were actually on the purple row, above right field) for one game, and then get good seats for photos the next day. The third deck offered a great view and my seats behind the Colorado dugout weren’t too expensive, so all in all, it was a great time.

Another quirk I kinda enjoyed (though it got tiring after a while) was hearing Soulja Boy exclaim “YOUUUUU!” after every Ubaldo Jimenez punchout. Much like how the Giants fans say “UUUUUUUUUU” when a certain infielder is at the plate.

The night game I went to offered two major events: the first rain delay I’ve ever seen (I’ve obviously been spoiled by California) and the likely end of Alan Embree’s career.

It says "no diving," or risk ejection, but I think it might be worth it some days.

Chase Field, Phoenix:

OK, here’s where I start cheating. I was in Phoenix for Spring Training, so technically, I didn’t see a game here. I took the tour, which I count. I made every effort possible to see Chase Field. I, naturally, had to check out the pool, which is pretty awesome in person. No, I didn’t get to jump in. Also, there’s a TGI Friday’s in the ballpark. I had lunch there.

Shea Stadium + Citi Field

Shea Stadium/Citi Field, New York:

Again, I cheated. I went to New York when the Yankees were home, meaning the Mets were away. I saw a cool little gift shop where I picked up a Mr. Met doll, so I could have some sort of evidence that, yes, I was here. The night before, Shea Stadium was rocking with a Billy Joel concert, so a “Billy Was Here” message was left on a pushpin board in the gift shop. The pins were all from different teams, pretty cool.

I walked around Shea Stadium, taking pictures, until I got to where they were finishing up construction on Citi Field. I tried to sneak in, but a construction worker shooed me away. Another thing I noticed? The area surrounding the Coliseum is paradise compared to where they put the Mets park. It’s pretty run down.

Also, I took the 7 train to get to Shea. Contrary to what John Rocker said, I didn’t think I was headed to Beirut, I didn’t see anyone with purple hair, and I’m not sure if anyone had AIDS or four kids.

Monument Park

(Old) Yankee Stadium, New York:

I felt the need to end this entry with one of the all-time great stadiums. I made sure to get to Monument Park for the first game. It was quite a memorable experience, seeing the all-time greats like Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig and Reggie Jackson immortalized. They also have a plaque dedicated to the policemen and firefighters on 9-11.

Yankee fans are pretty knowledgeable, and it was fun talking with them. They were pretty amicable, for the most part, and didn’t give me much guff for wearing an A’s hat. However, a man in a Red Sox hat was roundly booed. I approve.

There were Yankee cupcakes and Yankee cookies, in addition to all of the history. I could just picture the heroics of Derek Jeter, Mariano Rivera, Aaron Boone, Babe Ruth, et alius. It was kind of cool to be in a stadium so old, where so much has taken place. During BP one day, I sat on the 3rd deck and just kind of soaked everything in. I also sought out Freddy Sez, a Yankee Stadium legend. Although it meant bad news for the A’s, I loved hearing “Enter Sandman” from the Yankee Stadium speakers. Mariano Rivera has always been one of my favorite players, and it was really something to be able to see him in his natural element.

While Yankee Stadium is one of the all-time great venues for catching a game, I could see why the new stadium was necessary. The facilities seemed old and crumbly, and the concourses were terribly crowded. I would’ve hated to be claustrophobic while walking to Monument Park. You’re packed in like sardines.

I know, just 9 of 30 ballparks. I’m hoping to travel to Safeco Field in Seattle before the end of the season, but that’s still pretty much up in the air.

...and Bert Blyleven, and Jim Kaat...

1. It’s called deadline for a reason.

2. More than, not over.

3. The press pass around your neck means you’re here working, not to be a fan.

Apparently, some credentialed media members at Sunday’s Bengals/Broncos preseason game forgot that last one.

A photographer and a Cincinnati reporter allegedly asked for the autograph of Denver’s third-string quarterback — Tim Tebow. After Tebow obliged to the request, a member of Denver’s PR staff booted the reporter and photographer. You know it’s bad when even a PR guy is taking the high road.

Now, I know Tim Tebow is a great guy who is especially beloved by the media. I’m really happy that he’s making a name for himself for good things, and not for arrests, drugs and paternity suits. Writers and photogs can be fans of the guy. Buy his jersey. Lead the Broncos to the Super Bowl with him on Madden. But when you’re on the clock, that stops. There has to be a separation of your personal life and your professional life, and to openly ask for an autograph while you’re working is pathetic. It automatically cuts your credibility down to zilch and is on par with celebrating in the press box.

Writes MJD of Yahoo!’s Shutdown Corner:

If the sports media wants to prove themselves above the fray that Le Batard describes (ed note: Le Batard is equal parts jock sniffer and columnist), the final step in this process (and kudos to Marvez for reporting it in the first place) is to name the two media members who asked for the autographs in the first place. Not to undermine or humiliate the people involved (you’d hope they each feel bad enough at this point), but to make it very clear that the standards apply to everyone. In every circumstance. And that anyone disgracing the profession under any circumstances will have to answer for it in the same public forum they use to get their words across. We know good and well that if someone from the blog universe had asked Tebow for an autograph in the locker room, his or her name would be all over the Internet right now, and his or her mistake would be used as the newest in seemingly infinite referendums on professionalism in sports media.

Which leads me to my next point… if you’re a grown man, don’t you feel a little sad and awkward asking for an autograph?

Something changed when I started looking at the Oakland A’s roster a while ago, and seeing birth years like 1984, 1985, 1986, 1987… these guys are suddenly my age! I wasn’t really looking up to grown men. And looking at Brett Anderson’s Twitter feed, most of the A’s aren’t much different from well, any other 20-ish year old guy. It felt weird to really idolize these guys. I’d imagine it feels even weirder for adults, who are years older than the players, right?

Wrong.

I don’t totally understand the appeal of grown men asking some 25-year-old manchild who makes roughly their yearly salary in a month to write his name down. What, to say you met a player? Just say you did. And getting an autograph at a ballgame seems odd, if you’re an adult. What are you trying to say, if the signature isn’t going straight to eBay, “Hey, I saw Derek Jeter earlier today!”? Yeah, so did I, on ESPN. Don’t see me bragging about it.

Writes Rick Reilly:

“What’s wrong with a handshake?” says George Brett. “What’s wrong with a ‘Hey, really enjoyed watching you play!’ “

Just once I’d like to see somebody go up to Mark McGwire, interrupt him in mid-sirloin and say, “Sign this ‘To Bruce,’ will ya, buddy?” And McGwire would write:

To Bruce,
Do you mind? I’m trying to eat here, buddy!
—Mark McGwire

If fans feel abused by athletes, athletes feel abused by autograph hunters. It’s a never-ending pain. “I’d give $100,000 to go a whole day in Denver and not have anybody know who I am,” John Elway says. “Just one day.”

The worship is kind of sickening. I can understand maybe if your childhood hero is now coaching your favorite team or is doing a charity appearance at the local bar, that’s OK, because there’s some kind of reason and you’d have a story. But otherwise, I don’t really understand the appeal of an autograph for adults. It doesn’t say anything other than the fact that you had some kind of limited interaction with someone who wouldn’t be able to pick you out of a police lineup.

Jonah Hill as assistant GM "Peter Brand" and Brad Pitt as GM Billy Beane.

After last night, I can now say that I’ve been in a film with Brad Pitt. So I guess I can cross that one off the bucket list.

I was an unpaid extra in Moneyball, the movie based on the book written by Michael Lewis. Lewis was a fly on the wall during the 2002 Oakland A’s season, showing the inner workings of the organization and the quirks of general manager Billy Beane.

Brad Pitt has been cast as Beane, Jonah Hill as assistant GM Paul Depodesta (though now they’ve changed the name of the character, since DePodesta didn’t like the way they portrayed him) and Phillip Seymour Hoffman as field manager Art Howe.

It was really interesting to see how a movie gets made. My friend, who was at the Coliseum when they filmed Angels in the Outfield, said that they used cardboard cutouts of people, in addition to extras in the crowd. For Moneyball, they took 300-400 people and just moved us around to be in the background. They’ll use CGI stuff to make it look like there’s a full crowd.

I loved seeing how some people had really gotten into character. I wore a throwback batting practice cap and my Barry Zito shirt for the first night, last Monday. I saw others in old jerseys… Mulder, Hudson, Frank Menechino. But others wore Holliday and Bailey stuff, so I don’t think the organizers really cared about that.

This movie is Paul Lukas' wet dream. The 80s coaches had the shiny jackets, for throwback scenes.

Once we got in, we noticed (on Monday) that the tarps covering the third deck were off, just as they were in 2002. If only they could knock out Mt. Davis for the throwback scenes.

Another thing I was really impressed with was the realism. Players were wearing authentic jerseys to the time period, such as the fact that the Royals were wearing these away jerseys. The outfield ads changed too, with Fox Sports Net Channel 40 replacing Comcast, and the Bud Light ad replaced in right field. Raymond, one of the Left Field Drummers (he’s got the bongo drum) was invited to be a part of the movie too, so it’s good they’ve got the true Oakland ambiance… at least I hope that doesn’t get cut. Some guy was even acting as pom-pom guy one day!

Some of the players even looked spot on, such as the actors playing David Justice and Jim Thome. I’m pretty excited to see how everything looks when the film comes out (one of the production guys said it could take up to a year and a half). Philip Seymour Hoffman had the Art Howe mannerisms nailed, at least from what I could tell. Beane was wearing a Liverpool FC shirt under his jacket, which made me laugh a little.

Anyway, back to being an extra. It was awkward at times. We’d hear things like “if the ball is hit fair, just look to left field, since that’s where the hit is supposed to go.” They’d have us pantomime, basically pretending in silence to cheer and boo and clap and get food and go to the bathroom, as the actors did dialogue.

It was really intriguing, getting an inside look at how a movie is made. Last night, we were there from 9 p.m. until about 2:30 a.m., and the only scene they had filmed was a pitching change.

Another night, I stayed for a few hours, and they filmed a Twins celebration from pretty much every angle. It was amazing seeing just how much work goes into a shot which may only be 30 seconds of the entire movie. They’d shoot scenes over and over and over, until they got it just right.

All in all, it was a fun experience, but not one I’d do again. I just did it for the hell of it, but there were a lot of people there who were seriously trying to get into a movie or just wanted to mob Brad Pitt. It was a little irritating sometimes.

Now, I just have to wait for the DVD to come out.

Angel Stadium, home of the 2010 All-Star Game

This is a fun little exercise, especially since each team has to have at least one representative. The All-Star rosters will be announced tomorrow. They had things called “campaign managers” for players… such as Eric Chavez (.234 BA, 31/8 K/BB in 33 games as DH?) and Brandon Wood (.179 BA, .199 OBP).

Starters:

Yes, I know this will likely never happen. Evan Longoria or A-Rod will probably win the vote to start at 3rd base for the American League. I went pretty much just on stats.Yes, I’m serious about David DeJesus.

Pitchers:

Stephen Strasburg is a very, very, very good pitcher. Would he be a bigger ratings draw? Yes. Is he an All-Star this year? No. Next year, we’ll see.

Bench:

AL:

BOS 6, NYY 6, TB 3, TOR 1, BAL 1

MIN 2, DET 2, CWS 1, KC 2, CLE 1

TEX 3, ANA 2, OAK 1, SEA 3

NL

ATL 3, NYM 3, PHI 2, FLA 2, WAS 2

CIN 2, STL 3, MIL 2, CHC 2, HOU 1, PIT 2

SD 3, LA 3, COL 2, SF 2, ARI 1

What do you think?

The glove used to catch former A's knuckleballer Steve Sparks

Knuckleballers are a funny sort.

They usually have designated catchers. Jason Varitek, a 3-time All-Star catcher for the Red Sox, doesn’t catch longtime Boston knuckleballer Tim Wakefield. He struggles to catch the knuckleball, so usually, Boston has the backup catcher behind the plate when Wakefield pitches. It’s probably the hardest pitch in baseball to catch. Or, to quote Bob Uecker, the easiest: “I always thought the knuckleball was the easiest pitch to catch. Wait’ll it stops rolling, then go to the backstop and pick it up.”

The knuckleball produces unpredictable movement through a lack of rotation and speed on the ball. When thrown this way, the air kind of takes over and moves it around as it pleases. Watch Wakefield throw his knuckleball in slo-mo and you won’t see very many rotations. With a curveball, the ball will tumble end-over-end like crazy.

With Varitek now No. 2 on the depth chart to Victor Martinez… things have apparently not changed.

A few years ago, Wakefield had veteran Doug Mirabelli as his personal catcher, since Varitek can’t really catch the knuckler.

As the top dog behind the dish, Varitek has rarely been forced to deal with Wakefield’s flutterer. And even when called upon, Tek could barely handle Wakefield’s dancer. In fact, he once admitted that “catching the knuckleball — it’s like trying to catch a fly with a chopstick.”

In 2006, the Red Sox traded Mirabelli to the San Diego Padres and traded for Josh Bard from the Cleveland Indians, in the same deal that also netted them outfielder Coco Crisp. The results weren’t pretty. In five Wakefield starts, Bard had a league-leading 10 passed balls. A month into the regular season, Boston traded submarine reliever Cla Meredith to the Padres to get Mirabelli back.

Many knuckleballers also have their own glove, similar to the PRO SPARKS model shown above. I remember seeing a story on MLB.com in 2003, when the A’s acquired Steve Sparks from the Detroit Tigers, about how Sparks traveled with his own glove, something bigger than a catcher’s softball mitt. Upon seeing the monstrosity, then-starting catcher Ramon Hernandez called backup Adam Melhuse over to take care of it.

So I was pleasantly surprised to see an article in the New York Times this week about R.A. Dickey, who has been pretty hot since the Mets called him up to replace erratic lefty Oliver Perez in the rotation. Or rather, the oversized mitt of R.A. Dickey, which has taken a pounding since its inception in Minnesota.

I’ve always found the oversized glove fascinating. When I was interviewing Chico Outlaws catcher Robbie Alcombrack, who has become the designated catcher for female 18-year-old knuckleballer Eri Yoshida, he said he doesn’t use anything other than his regular mitt. He did have a couple of passed balls the night I went, though. He said it was rough catching it in spring training, but he’s gotten better at it as the season has gone on.

Traditionally, because the glove is used only for a knuckleball pitcher, it is his responsibility to provide, maintain and distribute the glove to his catchers. Dickey has had the old, black Rawlings glove with his name stitched on it since spring training 2009, when he was with the Minnesota Twins.

“I feel a little dorky, like a field-goal kicker carrying around a tee,” Dickey said.

(snip)

So after that game in Baltimore, the call went out from the Mets’ equipment manager, Charlie Samuels, to the Rawlings representative Stevie Cohen. Sensing the urgency, Cohen immediately secured a new Pro Sparks Model, named for the former knuckleball pitcher Steve Sparks, who helped design it for Rawlings.

Because there are so few knuckleball pitchers, Rawlings had only one on hand. It was sitting in a closet in the company’s headquarters in St. Louis, and Cohen had it shipped overnight to Cleveland, the Mets’ next destination.

“In an emergency, we can get a glove out quickly,” Cohen said. “This sounded like an emergency to me.”