Read this piece written by Phil Sheridan in Philadelphia before you read my blog please.

Has it really come to this?

Donald Fehr took over as head the MLBPA almost three decades ago. The men he was appointed to lead saw their income rise by almost 600 percent, he stopped the ownership of his constituents from colluding to keep salaries down, winning a judgement of almost $300 million, fought for and won pension and benefits that are unsurpassed in the modern day working world to name just a few things.

And Mr. Sheridan would have us believe the Don is responsible for the lack of integrity, ethics and morals now prevelant in the game.

Really?

It’s Donald Fehr’s fault A-Rod stuck a needle in his ass? It’s Donald Fehr’s fault Manny took a female hormone to regulate his testosterone levels? It’s Donald Fehr’s fault that ‘allegedly’ the greatest players of our generation cheated their asses off because being great was just not enough?

It’s Donald Fehr’s fault that we players stood in front of Congress and either lied our asses off or didn’t ’speak our minds’ about the catastrophic and illegal conditions we players willingly chose to work within?

It’s Donald Fehrs fault that owners paid salaries to a level that has driven the “common fan” away from the bleachers?

It’s Donald Fehr’s fault that the sports media, like eveyrone else, took the 1997, ‘98 seasons at face value, and believed in the huge biceps, skulls and stats as honest and hard working gains?

That ’saving the game’ during that period of time was anything but stupid men, with insane God-given talent, choosing the wrong path at almost every turn?

So Phil would have us believe that in addition to running the union, he was supposed to visit each player individually and parent them to make the right choices for the good of the game? Isn’t that what parents are for? Isn’t that what society is supposed to do????

We LIVE to give people a second chance. Short of murder (and even then we sometimes are OK with it) and crimes against children is there really anything a human being can do and NOT get a clean slate?

That’s not a bad thing, but it sure as hell isn’t Donald Fehr’s fault that major league ballplayers, GROWN MEN with wives, children, pets and homes (oh, and hundreds of millions of dollars) made stupid and in some cases illegal choices with which to live their lives and perpetuate fraud on the fans.

Donald Fehr did what he was paid to do, and he did it pretty damn good too.

We, the players (well former player here) are the ones completely and totally responsible for the lack of ethics, integrity, and morals so prevelant in sports today. Drugs, spouse abuse, animal abuse, DUI, DWI, vehicular manslaughter, murder, rape, extortion, gambling, last I checked Mr. Fehr had never been accused of any of those crimes, but there are police blotters around the country with athletes names on them.

A name often dismissed in the last 10 years is Rick Helling. Check him out. As someone who played with him I can attest to the fact that he was everything nice anyone could say, and honest to a fault. If more of us had acted on the feelings we had, which he did, things could have been different, things could have changed. We didn’t, and for that our generation, the generation we played in now defined as the “Steroid Era”, got it’s name.

That’s on us, the owners, and the Commissioner, but it sure as hell isn’t on Don Fehr.

Thanks for the hard work Don.

Draft Day, 1986 (AKA the last January Draft ever). So there I am, sitting in the hallway of the men’s dorm at Yavapai Junior College. Why you might ask? Because the draft has started, and I have heard I’m potentially getting drafted.

Patience is not a virtue to me. Hell, it’s not something I’m even remotely familiar with.

I sat by the phone all morning long, into the afternoon. I waited, waited, and waited some more. I had known all winter I was on ‘the list’, but I had no idea who’s list, and where.

My roommate (and eventual JC Player of the Year Brian Deak) was a sure-fire pick, and a high one at that. I skipped classes (a not all too uncommon occurrence for me back then considering I knew if I was drafted in the 400th round I was signing) on draft day, sat by the phone and waited.

Worst part is I can’t even remember the phone call. I know it came in the afternoon sometime, and it was the Red Sox. Red Sox??? Damn, I was hoping like hell my favorite team (the Pirates) had drafted me.

Ray Boone, the scout who recommended me, called me, I think. I am not sure I can remember or explain the feeling, but I know it was a good one. The Sox had taken me in the second round. This was the same
winter draft Jeff Shaw went first, and Moises Alou was drafted. We went on to have a storybook season, getting all the way to the JC World Series in Grand Junction Colorado. It was one of my favorite teams and years of all time.

Deak was JC Player of the year, hitting 40 HR and driving in like 200 runs. We had Brad Hebbets at first, Tim Stanley (funniest man ever and a future Montreal Expo) at second, Pat Swift at SS (was the guy on 2nd when Deak hit the walk off HR to win the regional tourney!) Paul Wegner, Albert Mendibles at third (gold glover), Danny Diaz, Kelly Clairmont, Bradi Brogni (still a close friend and one of the most talented players I ever
played with. Also the longest home run off me and has the biggest nose ever…) and one of my best friends ever, Ty Van Dyke. Ty was the guy who went to Iraq last year with me. In 23 years of pro ball I still talk to fewer teammates than I do from the JC team. It was that fun.

Paul Wilhemlsmen, tallest LHP ever (including RJ!) Gary Weems, Danny Rodriguez (who had the plaque) and some other incredibly talented guys.  We were coached by “Coach Kemp” — great guy and someone who didn’t think I was as funny as I thought I was — and managed by one of my all time favorite people, Dave Dangler. A man who came along at a huge time in my life and inserted just enough discipline to keep me out of jail for that one year away from home. He basically told me that winter that I was “pitching for dollars” and it was no longer just a game. He was right. I’ll be forever thankful of his mentoring me at a time when I needed it.

So we had this great year, went to the World Series, and lost to Brevard in the semi-finals in a rip off… a sham! Then lost to eventual winners San Jacinto.

I’d love to tell you this long drawn out story about negotiations, but it didn’t happen. Baseball was all I knew, and all I wanted. I signed less than an hour after the game ended. I vaguely remember Mr. Boone
calling me and letting me know they were going to offer me 15K to sign, and I came back and said I wanted 25K, and he said “Good luck in college next year.

That was the extent of the negotiations.

I signed right then, right there. We bussed home to Prescott the next day. Deaker and I drove home
to Phoenix that night (and ran out of gas about an hour from home) in the “new” Jeep CJ7. I bought it from Ty, and it was a heap, but it looked cool!

The next day I was packed, and on a plane to the lovely city of Elmira, New York, and my career began about two weeks later in my first professional start of my career, against the St. Catherine’s Blue Jays.

Not really all that glamorous, but man it was to me.

In case you weren’t with us at 1 a.m. Friday morning, here is the transcript from the ‘World Record For Highest Altitude For a Baseball-Related Live Chat’

Question: What do you think of the way the Braves dealt with Tom Glavine?

Me: Incredibly sad to see someone who played his entire career in one place and do what he did, to have it end that way. But it’s another reminder for those fans who scream about player loyalty to remember clubs, pretty much 99% of the time, are about dollars and cents and results, like any other business

Question: What’s your opinion on Steven Strasburg?

Me:  What’s not to like? BIG kid, mechanics are a lot more refined that I expected, ridiculously live arm, polished with more than 1 pitch, unfortunately he’s going to Washington, or the Independant League this summer…

Question: How do you feel about Bob Watson handing out suspensions to both Beckett and Burnett for intentionally throwing at - but not hitting - the batter? Is this setting a good precedent for the future?

Me: Bob Watson was the GM in Houston when I was there, so I know and like him, but I have felt that he’s horribly mismanaged, HORRIBLY mismanaged the ‘policing’ of the game. As someone that played in the era he did, on the teams he did, there is a very popular opinion that the man forgot what the game was like as a player. THere is literally ZERO logic to fines and suspensions, horrid inconsistency as well. 

Read the rest of this entry »

With a former teammate of mine Randy Johnson, going for 300 wins tonight, Rob Bradford sent along a few questions pertaining to RJ. Here they are:

1. Do you think there will ever be another 300-game winner?

Never say never but I am not sure the game is situated for it to happen again. First off you have to have hall of fame talent, and there are certainly a lot of guys out there with that. But the other things MUST fall in line:

A. Play on a winning team EVERY year

B. Miss VERY few games due to injury

C. You basically need to win 15 games a year for 20 years. I think

Maddux is the only guy to even sniff something close to that. Otherwise you need to win 20 for a few years, hard enough in and of itself, and have a ton fo 17-19 win seasons, and sprinkle a few 23-25 win seasons in there as well.

2. When did you realize RJ had what it took to reach such a milestone?

After I watched him pitch his first game, in person.

3. When he went to the Yankees did you think that was a bad fit, and why do you think he had such a hard time there?

I never thought it would work out for a ton of reasons off the field. I certainly thought he’d win, and he did, but I didn’t see him enjoying even a minute of being there. He’s very much an introvert most times, and the RJ I knew had major issues with ‘publicity’ away from the ballpark that wasn’t controlled, and NYC is the king of unwanted publicity away from the field.

4. What is one of your favorite RJ stories?

Nothing really funny, but my favorites were watching him stroll out of the bullpen for relief in Game 7 of the 2001 World Series, the night after throwing 100-plus pitches in Game 6. Watching him strikeout 20 vs the Reds, and get a no-decision.

5. What is your second-favorite RJ story?

The fact that after three years I took about 100 shirts from him in golf, to his 1.

Here is the transcript from my live chat Thursday:

Question: What should the red sox do with their abundance of starting pitching?

Me: As far as Penny, Smoltz and the gang, if they keep the two vets, there is no reason to think they can’t go 6 man later in the year to keep eveyrone fresh. I don’t trade ANY pitcher right now, too much can happen, too many days left to start thinking like that, plus if you float that now and don’t trade him, or can’t, you end up with a guy in your rotation that knows you tried to trade him.

Question: How close were the Sox to going with a six-man rotation last year?

Me: It was much closer to reality than people think, I tihnk if I had not been hurt it might have happened a time or two.

Question: How do you explain Jon Lester’s early-season struggles?

Me: Inconsistent. Fastball command is again his main issue. Stuff looks fantastic, he looks very healthy and he’s getting that red ass you want your top of the rotation guys to have. he’s always had that, but it’s showing more now, which is a good thing. He’ll be ok, pencil him in for 15-16 by years end and a few more in October.

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Here we go with the last wave of match-ups for the first round of the Pitchers Bracket Challenge, figuring out who is the best pitcher of the post World War II era. Here are the results to date:

So in the interest of urgency, here are a quick look at the last match-ups for the first round…

Cy Young Region

8.Billy Pierce vs. 9. Jim Bunning

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Walter Johnson Region

8. John Smoltz vs. 9. Dennis Martinez

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Lefty Grove Region

8. Bret Saberhagen vs. 9. David Cone

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Christy Mathewson Region

8. Don Sutton vs. 9. Kevin Brown

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“Innocent until proven guilty”……..

Are we at the point now where that has morphed into, “I hope he didn’t,” or, “I’m sure he did,” and both sentiments carry as much validity and weight as the initial belief? I’d sure as heck love to think not, but what possible defense could I offer up that would carry an ounce of weight?

Oh and before going any further, please spare me the “That taints your two World Series with the Sox!!!” emails. A larger load of crap I have yet to hear.

Because if you honestly think that in the last 10 years one team for even one season had NO PLAYERS using Steroids or HGH you’re kidding yourself. As horrifying and pathetic as it sounds, players cheated their way to a level playing field of a different sort. Please save the, “Oh but this guy only did it for one year,” and, “No one knows how long he was doing it.” Save that.

The only thing sadder than the continued “revelations” of new names and new drugs are the excuses following them. Female Estrogen? I didn’t know what I was taking? I had no idea it was steroids? Every one makes me appreciate Pettitte, Segui and the men that made their peace and moved on even more.

Do you honestly for one second think ANY player, ANY professional athlete who has been caught up in this allowed a cream to be rubbed, a needle to be stuck, or a pill to be taken and wasn’t aware that the substance was or was not a steroid? Really? I do believe one guy. I think J.C. Romero did buy an over-the-counter substance that contained something that got him in trouble. I could be completely hoodwinked but as far as I know he’s the only guy that’s actually done something to legally rectify the situation and clear his name.

I’ve never taken steroids, I’ve never taken HGH, and I am not saying that to clear my name or make a statement, I’m saying that because even though I did not, I’ve never drank a protein shake from my strength coach, I’ve never taken medication from a doctor or the team, I’ve never gotten an injection from a team doctor or otherwise that I didn’t ask and wasn’t told exactly what it was. I’m far from svelte or ripped, and never have been. I was never a fitness freak or gym rat — those are the guys that measured every milligram, count every tablet in their regimen. Yet somehow we’re hearing these same people talk about being struck momentarily stupid when West African bullfrog semen is found in their blood. “What? How’d that get there????” Their routines, from reps to nutrition are as mapped out as scouting reports. They eat a certain way, train a certain way, and they play a certain way. There is no ‘black hole’ or ‘hidden formula’ happening in these instances. So you get up at 5am? You eat at 6am? Thirty minutes of cardio, upper body, lower on alternate days, whirlpool for x minutes, maintain x calories of protein and carb intake? You do all that, and at some point you let someone stick a needle in your ass, or throw a ‘protein shake’ or rub a ‘crème’ on you, and for that 30 seconds to 5 minutes you have absolutely no thought, care or concern about the product? A step recognized as vital to strength gain, or recovery, a step to setup the acceleration of your recovery or magnification of gains from your hours of work and you just go dumb?

I heard the news about Manny and was asked for my response. “Not surprised” was all I could really muster. I got emails remarking “how does it feel to be right” or “that’s gotta feel good, huh?”

Nothing could be farther from the truth. Who wishes that on people? Why? I have no respect for the guy for a laundry list of reasons that have to do with actually playing the game and being a teammate, but further ruining the image of the game is certainly not what I’d call anything close to consolation. What goes around comes around for everyone.

More kids are let down today, more parents turn from athletes as their kids’ role models (which is NOT a bad thing) every time these stories hit the news. The sad part is you know somewhere there is someone in the media who’s made it their life’s mission to get those 103 other names on “The List,” and that’s going to find it’s way out. The only reason I’ll be relieved that it does will be that I’ll stop receiving “Your name is on that list, isn’t it?” emails.

For the past 19 years or so I’ve had suspicions, some stronger than others, but to sit here today and say I played on even one team that was totally clean would be denying reality I think. I’ve never personally seen a player inject, ingest, swallow HGH, or steroids but like every other player I played with that had his eyes open I saw the huge weight gains in one winter, I saw the hat size increase, I saw the acne in places a camel would be embarrassed to have it. I watched the player hit 20 more homers in one year than they ever had, then revert back, I saw the pitcher throwing 87-90 come to spring training throwing 95-97, I saw all of that. None of those are ‘no brainers’ — none — but they were hints, and when you get enough hints you can see the answer clearly if you are looking.

I played pretty much my entire career in the Steroid Era.

There, I said it. Not rocket science, not an earth shattering revelation, just an enormously disappointing recognition of the label that will accompany the era in which I was allowed to play this game.

I did so never taking Steroids, HGH, cow urine, horse feces, or West African bullfrog semen, and for that yeah, I am proud. Proud of something that really doesn’t deserve praise, does it? Not committing a crime is something to get lauded and applauded for? Are we really that bad off as a society that we’re looking for the ‘few, the proud,’ the non-felons?

The ONLY saving grace today was that I was mentally a million miles away from all this. I had the honor of visiting with the front line officers of the 4^th Infantry Division in Colorado Springs, Colorado. These incredible men and women are being deployed to Afghanistan in the coming weeks. A real dose of ‘hero’ and ‘courage’ and ‘honor’ to quell any ills from this crap.

So after all the BS, I was allowed to say thanks to true Heroes, true Warriors, true Americans, and it felt pretty damn good.

So stop making athletes your icons, they’re supremely gifted, extraordinarily talented human beings, period. After that they’re no different than you, not one bit. They endure the same hardships at home, divorce, drugs, domestic violence, DUI, and every other thing you can read about on page A1 of any newspaper. Don’t make the mistake of thinking the size of the paycheck is relevant to the core of the man. Don’t place more responsibility on them, or accountability, because life doesn’t work that way.

Relish in the Halladays, Rolens, Sabathias, Lowells, Counsells, Variteks, Garnetts, Jameses, Bruschis, Vrabels, the Jason Bays of the world. Relish in men of supreme character and tireless work ethic who respect the game and their teammates and suit up every day to leave it all on the field. If 100 more names come out I can still give you my word there are a lot more great men and phenomenal people in the game than not….

Then go home and raise your own damn kids with your own set of values, integrity and morals. Be accountable to them and responsible for them and stop blaming video games or the 25-year-old kid from the Dominican who can hit a baseball 455 feet but you don’t know and never will, for the ‘problems of today’s youth”. It starts and ends under your own roof. Your kids idolize the people you allow them to, and believe things you don’t refute or discuss, and that’s no one’s fault but your own.

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At the most recent event for a program called YouthCare my wife and I spoke publicly about our son’s battle with Asperger’s Syndrome, for the first time. Here is the text of my wife’s speech the other night.

I have given many speeches over the years.  This is one is by far  the hardest. It is one thing to speak from the heart about your own experiences and another to speak from the heart about one of your children.

When our third child was diagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome almost two years ago all I can say is that my heart was aching. A child that I had raised to that point like his siblings, I couldn’t understand how he could be so different.    I was in the doctors office when I heard the words ” On the spectrum of Autism” Aspergers.

For one brief second the puzzles pieces made sense and there was relief.  What followed was such a sense of loss, pain and guilt it’s hard to describe.

I remember for days thinking to myself “just write down” what I was feeling.  The emotions were so strong that I became numb.  I struggled so hard as a parent to reach Grant and I was now sure that I would never know how to communicate with him.

The school year was just beginning and I went in for his IUP meeting.  I was so overwhelmed I cried the entire time.  I didn’t know how to handle Grant and I was looking for anyone to tell me “Hey, no need to worry, we can help”.

I starting sitting up nights, scouring the internet, downloading anything I could find on Aspbergers. Digesting in small bits as it was all so overwhelming.

Some people read everything they can get their hands on, all I wanted was the comic book version. Which by the way I have never found.

That fall of 2004 we went on to win the World Series and I just tried to keep distracted.  I really wanted help but honestly I just wasn’t ready for it.  I tried to watch Grant and see what I could do .  I listened to the teachers and administrators give me tips and techniques to help Grant at school.

It wasn’t till after Christmas that year when I decided to take the schools advice and reach out for help. I was ready to accept this different life and the new adventures it would bring to us. I spoke to other parents who were always eager to share problem solving that worked for them.

One name that kept coming up in conversations was this wonderful camp called Youth Care.

We tried summer camp before his diagnosis and every day I would have a full report from my daughter on what Grant had done to make the councilors mad.  I was mortified and humiliated that he just couldn’t follow there rules.  I knew that I couldn’t go through another summer like that.  So I made the call to YOUTH CARE.  Grant and I went to the interview meeting.

I have to tell you that I was so nervous that he would act normal and they wouldn’t accept him.   Needless to say it took 30 seconds for them to agreed he was a fit. As he walked in he touched every single object in the room, never looked her in the eye, and couldn’t answer any questions due to being so distracted in a new room with so many new shiny things to look at, and touch!  Hooray we were in.

I really had no idea what YOUTH CARE had to offer as I had heard that kids and parents learn so many coping and life skills and this camp was second to none for kids like Grant.

I felt relief and empowered that I was making the first good decision for him.

The day of camp orientation arrived.  I listened as he met his councilors and watched as he interacted with the other kids in his group.  They explained to him the great things that he would be doing that summer and he was excited.  He counted down the “Sleeps”  until camp would start.

The first day arrived.  He was up early and checking to make sure he had everything he needed.  I pulled into the line and watched as each kid was greeted by his councilor.

When our turn came Grant jumped out of the car almost forgetting to give me a kiss, which he never forgets. The camp councilors were so warm and affectionate in greeting each child that morning, this was truly going to be a place Grant would be accepted, and welcomed.

He walked away and I started home.  I drove out of the campground and without warning tears were flowing down my face.  For the first time since this journey began I was crying tears of joy.  Grant was safe and most of all wanted.  He would be surrounded by people who would watch out for him, understand him and be patient with him.

As a mother that is all I wanted.  I learned strategies that would help both Grant and our family.  I was open to suggestions and eager to try the new things that we learned would work so well for Grant.   Grant had a wonderful summer.  A super summer camp experience.

Curt and I are so grateful that Youth Care exists and for all the wonderful people that work so hard to help our children.   What we hope to do  by sharing  our family story is to help even more families who do not have funds to this amazing opportunity to have that chance.

Take it from two parents who are walking this journey with our son.  If you have the means to give a child and his family a chance it is the biggest return on your investment that you will ever make.

Thank you and God Bless

Shonda and I are truly grateful to Scott McLeod the camp director and want anyone affected by this to reach out to the camp and any of the other services provided to see if there is help for you or your children. This is a daily battle that will never end. Much like most everything else I look at this in only one way.

Life often times gives us ‘choices’ when it really doesn’t. Our son has Aspergers, there is nothing we can do about that other than turn over every leaf, in trying to make sure we as parents provide every possible outlet and resource to him, and to us as parents, to make the world a place Grant can thrive and succeed in. Our son is brilliantly smart (as many children with Aspergers are) and way ahead of many of his peers in certain academic areas, but there are social issues and to many people those have far more potential to be harmful than anything else in a young childs life.

This is the opposite of a ‘why us’ or ‘poor us’ story, this is the first chapter of a story that will see us take on a charitable cause, and ask each and every one of you for help (whether that is time or money, I don’t care, both are needed) as we move down this path in our lives.

This city has never shied from helping Shonda and I in every charitable endeavor we’ve taken on and we are forever grateful to all of you for everything you’ve done.

Please don’t hesitate to contact me through this blog if you are looking for help, or offering it.

Thanks

Curt and Shonda Schilling