Capping off the Home Run Derby

While not wearing a cap, Prince Fielder won the Home Run Derby tonight in St. Louis on the eve of the All-Star Game. In fact, several sluggers went capless in taking their hacks at Busch Stadium, and maybe that’s just as well. I was not keen on either of the league’s cap and jersey styles. To me, the All-Star Game always has been special, and seeing all the caps and colors from the various teams represented made it so.

One of my Twitter buddies, who posts a San Francisco Giants blog called Nuschlers News, asked during the derby if anyone besides him preferred the old days when the players wore their own team uniforms or at least their team caps while at the All-Star Game. I’m not sure how many replies he received, but all but two preferred players wearing their own apparel.

The derby is a lot of fun, and our family usually makes a point to watch, although it’s a little more difficult out here in the Pacific time zone than it was when we lived in the Eastern.

The kids running loose in the outfield to retrieve flyballs is a nice, if calculated, touch. You can imagine the baseball marketing guys saying, “Let’s remind everybody that this is a game for kids played by men who still are kids at heart.” Yeah, yeah. And let’s all profit richly (by selling All-Star uniforms and caps, say?).

But I shan’t crab anymore. The All-Star Game and the hoopla surrounding it are genuine American creations and traditions. I can’t remember if the players revert to their own uniforms and caps in the game itself, but I certainly hope that’s what happens tomorrow night. I want to see Tim Lincecum in San Francisco orange and black standing on the sidelines for the anthem with Manny Ramirez in his Dodger blue, Derek Jeter in Yankee pinstripes and Ichiro sporting the Mariners’ compass rose. Those “ordinary” uniforms gathered on one diamond underscore just how special a night it is.

A couple tips of the cap: To Jonathan Sanchez and Jamie McOwen

A tip of the cap to Jonathan Sanchez of the Giants, who last night pitched the first-no hitter at AT&T Park in San Francisco. The accomplishment was especially sweet for Sanchez because, after having been dropped from the starting rotation, he got the no-no while making a spot start in place of the injured Randy Johnson. Further, his father had flown in to see the game and was there to embrace his son after the game.

With the scent of a no-hitter in the air, I normally would be glued to the TV set. But not last night, as I was at the ballpark with my younger son to watch a California League game between the High Desert Mavericks and Modesto Nuts. Not only was the great weather a draw, but we went to see if High Desert’s Jamie McOwen could extend his 45-game hitting streak.

It was not to be. McOwen went 0-for-3.

In the first inning, he bunted with a man on first base – a puzzling move for somebody hitting .355. The bunt bounced high, right to the pitcher, who wheeled and threw out the runner at second. McOwen beat the throw to first and had to settle for a fielder’s choice on the scorecard.

I forget the order, but McOwen walked in one trip to the plate and was retired in another.

For his final at bat in the top of the ninth inning, he struck out swinging. I thought he deserved a standing ovation, but hardly anyone in the crowd seemed to have a clue about what they had just seen.

In any event, I tip my cap to McOwen, who completed the eighth longest hitting streak in minor league baseball history. That’s quite an accomplishment.

My son and I managed to listen to the ninth inning of the Padres-Giants game on the way home. All in all, it was a special night.

Vote for Pablo!

A journalist by profession, I usually refrain from taking sides. I try to see the merits and disadvantages of each aspect of an issue, causing me occasionally to over-analyze a situation. I confess, I’ve been overthinking the issue of fans voting for the American and National league All-Star game rosters.

Major League Baseball is using its “Final Vote” promotion to lure fans to its Web site and vote among five players in each league for the final spots on the AL and NL teams. The traditionalist devil in pinstripes on my left shoulder keeps shouting in my ear, “It’s a crass commercial gimmick that diminishes the dignity of the game.”

The “lighten up” angel wearing Astros’ mustard stripe double-knits on my right shoulder says calmly and confidently: “Hey, it’s game. It’s for the fans. It’s fun.”

I listened to the angelic voice and have been stopping by MLB a couple times each day. I’ve cast most of my AL votes for Carlos Pena of the Tampa Bay Rays. But on every single one of my NL ballots, I’ve marked Pablo Sandoval of the San Francisco Giants, the guy under the “SF” cap above.

The Giants organization is having some fun with it. On last night’s telecast, Duane Kuiper and Mike Krukow were plugging Sandoval, the “Kung Fu Panda,” as they broadcast from a platform down the right field line. Behind them were “Vote Pablo” posters plastered to the brick walls of AT&T Park.

I imagine the other teams are likewise pumping the fans to vote for their players. The voting, which ends at 4 p.m. EDT Thursday, lasts only a few days. The dignity of baseball can surely survive that.

And now, back to voting, Chicago-style, early and often (and late) for Pablo.

The Big Unit on the DL

The San Francisco Giants placed Randy Johnson on the 15-day disabled list after he hurt his left (throwing) shoulder while swinging the bat in a game against the Houston Astros. With the All-Star break on the horizon, the Giants hope the Big Unit will mend quickly and miss no more than a regularly scheduled start or two.

I’m tempted to attribute Johnson’s injury to bad fortune brought on by bad cap karma. The Giants wore the patriotic red caps in the weekend series. By itself, the cap is OK. But paired with the orange and black? Blech. The late Mr. Blackwell would surely disapprove of the color clash.

Cooperstown Ball Cap’s awesome collection

As one might expect of someone who blogs about baseball caps, I spend a little bit of time every now and then scouting the Internet for information on the subject. In a serendipitous search last night, I wound up on ballcap.com, which is the site for the Cooperstown Ball Cap Co. The company is in Cherry Valley, N.Y., not far from Cooperstown and the Baseball Hall of Fame.

The firm makes authentic replicas of old-time ballcaps. I was familiar with their major league and Federal League caps, having ogled them in many a catalog and Web site. But I had no idea of the depth of caps the company recreates. There are caps from Negro Leagues teams, railroad teams, military schools, Native American tribes, even night clubs!

The caps come in a variety of styles, including those 19th Century ones with the band-like crowns and short brims. With only a few photograph exceptions, the Cooperstown site offers only artist renderings of its caps, such as the 1910 model above from the Alameda, Calif., professional team. Having lived on that wonderful San Francisco Bay island town for several years, I’ve put that cap on my wish list along with a few others. (Hint to any relatives with $48 to spend – the 1920 Cleveland Indians cap looks mighty fine.)

A baseball fan could spend a lot of time — and probably money — on the site. I recommend it.

An inspiring story from the minor leagues

The 2009 baseball season had barely begun on April 9 when Mike Cameron of the Milwaukee Brewers cracked a line drive through the box. The ball struck San Francisco Giants pitcher Joe Martinez in the forehead, causing fractures and a nasty concussion — and jeopardizing the young pitcher’s career.

Martinez is playing baseball again, pitching for the San Jose Giants in the Class A California League. He is scheduled to pitch tonight in Modesto against the Nuts.

In an interview with The Modesto Bee, Martinez says the continual replays of his scary injury don’t bother him. And he doesn’t hold anything against Cameron, who sent him a gift of Milwaukee sausages after the incident. That’s one thoughtful, gracious young man under the Giants cap.

Gigantes vs. Cerveceros

I turned on the TV in roughly the fifth inning last evening to watch the Giants play the Brewers and gleefully discovered the teams were wearing Spanish-language uniforms. The Giants’ road grays had “Gigantes” emblazoned on the front, and the Brew Crew has “Cerveceros” across their chests. The teams wore their normal caps.

While crass commercialism no doubt in part drives the proliferation of alternate uniforms at major league games, I can put that aside. It’s cool to see the uniforms in Spanish, all the more so when so many Latin American players are in the game.

The Brewers have scheuled a Hispanic heritage game in recent years, and there’s now a sombrero-clad chorizo taking part in the sausage race during the 7th inning stretch.

As for “Los Gigantes,” they always seem to find a way to lose in Miller Park. I should have stuck to the game on radio. Once I started watching, things turned sour for Barry Zito.

As a former Milwaukeean, I still hold a strong allegiance to the Brewers. But although my wife was beside me rooting for the home team, I was fully pulling for the Giants, who grabbed a 6-4 lead in the top of the ninth only to blow it in the bottom and lose 7-6.

But I take heart. There’s always manana.

Love those throwback uniforms!

I always get a charge out of the games in which major league ball clubs wear “throwback” uniforms, such as the Pittsburgh Pirates did last night. The Pirates wore the uniforms of the Homestead Grays in defeating the Kansas City Royals, who were wearing Kansas City Monarchs uniforms. Virgil Vasquez (in photo) sports a Grays cap as he delivers a pitch.

There was one strange experiment a few years back in which major league teams wore so-called “uniforms of the future,” and I can recall pictures of the Oakland Athletics in jerseys with quirky sans-serif script that looked like it was out of “Blade Runner.” Better that the teams stick to the throwbacks.

Emerging cap style at the U.S. Open

If Ricky Barnes can hang on to win the U.S. Open, it’s a good bet his unusual golf cap will gain some sales. Even if he fades on Monday — assuming the weather holds up at Bethpage Black — he’ll have gained some fans, as will his Wilson Staff cap.

I strained while watching him on TV this afternoon to figure out what’s written on the right side of the cap. It’s rickyenergy.com, which takes you to a site for Verve, “The Official Energy Drink of Ricky Barnes.” (I’ve lived half a century without consuming reconstituted mangosteen juice, so I think I’ll pass on the Verve.)

I follow pro golf to some degree, and I have to admit that Barnes didn’t register until he vaulted into the Open lead a few days ago. I’ve been impressed with how at ease he is in media interviews. Bob Costas on TV and somebody for ESPN radio were both pressing Barnes about how he’s coping with the rain delays, the course conditions and the general pressure of the Open.  Barnes has good-naturedly shrugged off the questions and said he’s getting enough sleep and relaxing with family living near the course.

Monday finishes for major golf championships are rare. If it’s a close finish, you can be sure millions of man (and woman) hours of productivity will be lost on the job as the leaders approach the final holes.

The Bard in Oregon

One of the highlights of our recent vacation was a side trip to Ashland, Ore., where I spotted this cap among many on sale in the gift shop for the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. We were only in Ashland for a day and didn’t take in a show, but that’s on the “must do next time” list.