A tip of the cap to 49ers broadcast analyst Gary Plummer

Fans who spend their lives rooting for one team in one town and listening only to the hometown announcers don’t have much of a basis for comparison of the men and women behind the microphones.  As a kid in Cleveland, after the Indians’ games I’d catch a few innings when atmospheric conditions were right from games on WJR in Detroit, WLW in Cincinnati, KDKA in Pittsburgh and KMOX in St. Louis. But I didn’t listen critically, and during football season I only listened to the Browns’ games. It was and remains harder to catch a distant football broadcast on radio, as most games are played during the day when AM signals are limited.

With the advent of satellite radio, fans have an opportunity to listen to broadcasts from other markets. I listened to enough broadcasts on XM Radio the past two baseball seasons to get a sense of the best, such as Bob Uecker on the Brewers network and the John “Yankees win” Sterling. (My opinion is certainly burnished by having lived in both markets, listening to each over several seasons.)

XM has also exposed the “homers” who are shills for their teams and those whose delivery leaves me cold or at least unmoved.

I don’t have access to the other teams’ NFL broadcasts, so my football impressions are based primarily on local broadcasts as I’ve moved around the country. I always catch the 49ers and often take in Raiders’ games – at least until I can no longer stand the pain. Which leads me to the point of this post: Gary Plummer (pictured at right from his days as a 49ers linebacker) must rate as one of the finest color men in professional sports.

In his smooth baritone voice, he consistently offers clear, honest, rational commentary. He praises each team on the field when they deserve it and, just as even-handedly, criticizes the failings of each. He brings his experience from his playing days to the booth, but it never overshadows what’s happening on the field.

I wish all football fans had a chance to hear him.

The Granderson trade: Grist for the Yankee-haters’ mill

The floats that rolled down the Canyon of Heroes in the World Series victory parade have barely cooled their engines and the New York Yankees are already bolstering their formidable roster. The details aren’t final, but at the winter meetings in Indianapolis the Yanks have engineered a three-team deal that will bring them center fielder Curtis Granderson from the Detroit Tigers.

It’s deals like this that drive Yankee haters crazy. The Yankees give up a couple of guys you’ve never heard of and one prospect, and in exchange they get an A-grade player with speed, solid hitting and great defense. Their lineup from 2009 isn’t diminished in the least, and they make a significant upgrade in the outfield for the new season.

Can the Kansas City Royals ever pull something like this off? Can the Milwaukee Brewers? Can anybody but the Yankees?

Had Karl Marx been born in the 20th Century, I have no doubt his inspiration to take on capitalism with communism would have been the New York Yankees.

The Phillies take Game One, but there’s hope for the Yankees

Cliff Lee pitched brilliantly tonight as the Phillies defeated the New York Yankees 6-1 in Game One of the World Series. The only run Lee gave up was unearned, in the ninth inning when Jimmy Rollins made a throwing error that allowed Derek Jeter to score.

The New York media will go into convulsions, blasting the lineup for being unable to hit in clutch situations and the bullpen for allowing the Phillies’ lead to expand. But the Yanks can turn it around quickly with a victory in Game Two. I note that Jeter got the Yankees moving in the ninth inning tonight with a single that fell at the feet of hard-charging Shane Victorino.  The Yankee hitters will produce. Count on it.

Besides, I don’t put too much meaning into a Game One victory. In 1982, the Milwaukee Brewers creamed the St. Louis Cardinals 10-0 in Game One, only to lose the series in seven games.

As Lawrence Peter Berra has been known to say, “It ain’t over till it’s over.”

Ironic offer from MLB.com: A cold-weather Cubs cap

I’m fighting off the common cold, swine flu or for all I know bubonic plague tonight, so I’ll make this quick. I got an e-mail from mlb.com pointing out that they’re having a post-season sale. Batting practice caps — those ugly variants on regular caps with goofy curved side panels — are just $9.99.

I followed the link and was tickled to see this Chicago Cubs cold-weather cap with ear flaps — the ultimate accessory for the franchise that for a century has rarely played in the post-season chill wafting off Lake Michigan.

Last October, I noted the flap cap worn by the Phillies’ Jimmy Rollins, who will likely pull it out of his locker for home games against the Los Angeles Dodgers in the National League Championship Series starting with Game 3 on Sunday. Oddly, I could find no Phillies model like the Cubs version. For northern franchises like Boston, Cleveland and Milwaukee, I’d think they’d be a natural.

They might come in handy for home openers, too.

UPDATE: The earflap caps are made by New Era, and I was able to find the Phillies model at this link. The New Era site also has them for the Red Sox, Indians and Brewers. I’ll bet there are more, too. Good news!

Iconic baseball caps: The St. Louis Cardinals

Decade after decade, the St. Louis Cardinals manage to field great teams. While they haven’t amassed quite as many World Series championships as the New York Yankees, no other National League team has as many titles as the Redbirds.

The Cardinals have had an amazing collection of stars over the years, chief among them in my lifetime Stan “the man” Musial (at left), the incomparable Bob Gibson and present day standout Albert Pujols.

The Cardinals first came into my consciousness, as best I can recall, in the World Series of 1964. They came into full view in the back-to-back series of 1967 and 1968, when Gibson (at right) was at the peak of his superb career. That was an era in which pitching was so dominant that Major League Baseball eventually lowered the mound to give batters a better chance.

In those years, National League teams like the Cardinals were foreign exotics to an American League kid like me. Without today’s round-the-clock coverage, I got to know the NL players mainly through their photos and stats on Topps baseball cards. Occasionally, if atmospheric conditions were right, I’d catch Harry Caray doing a Cardinals broadcast late at night on KMOX radio from St. Louis.

I had a head-on encounter with the Cardinals in the 1982 World Series, when they came to Milwaukee to play the Brewers. Both teams were loaded with talent, and the Cards — with Willie McGee and Vince Coleman and Ozzie Smith — to my dismay won in seven games.

Powered by Pujols (at left), the Cardinals easily won the NL Central title this season, and many oddsmakers list them as the favorite to win the NL playoffs and perhaps take the Series as well. I’m not going to risk any predictions here, but I will salute the Cardinals cap.

The interwoven “St.” and “L” is a classic logo. It has remained an enduring symbol of the team through the years as the colors on the cap have meandered from red to blue and back with many combinations in between. The cap in all its iterations represents one of the few franchises that can lay claim to consistent success over the years.

The Twins win, and we’re stuck with more games in that horrid dome

Twins win

The Minnesota Twins defeated the Detroit Tigers 6-5 in 12 innings Tuesday night to win the American League Central title, and I’m not happy.

Not because the Twins won per se. They’ve been a terrific story this season, charging from behind to tie the Tigers and force the one-game playoff for the division title.

What irritates me is the prospect of at least one more baseball game being played in the  abomination that is the Metrodome. Although I’ve never set foot in it, I’ve loathed that dome for years.

When the Brewers were in the American League and played there, I hated it on general principles.

When Kirby Puckett and Kent Hrbek and that generation of Twins were in their heyday, I hated it for the homer hankies the fans waved. (I’ve always hated any team whose fans in an act of mass silliness wave hankies or towels or – please, God, no – thundersticks.)

I even hate the dome in football season, as in the past two weeks when the 49ers and Packers lost in succession to the Vikings.

Why do I find the dome so revolting? I don’t begrudge the Twins and Vikings fans a warm place to sit when it’s freezing outside. But the Metrodome is an over-the-top artificial environment, a chamber of Nordic screams designed to rile and rattle the opposing team. The building is a huge advantage for the home squad, and unfairly so.

There are other domes in professional sports. I’ve been in Skydome or whatever it’s now called in Toronto and the old Kingdome in Seattle (inset), for which I had a minimal, grudging tolerance. I’ve also been in Miller Park in Milwaukee, with the roof open and closed. None of those parks approaches the Metrodome in affecting the outcome of a game.

Quirky differences among ballparks parks add to baseball’s appeal — the Green Monster at Fenway Park, the ivy at Wrigley Field, McCovey Cove in San Francisco, the arches at Yankee stadia, old and new. Those features constitute charm and give the home team a bit of a boost. But they don’t loom oppressively over the game as does the Metrodome.

That the Twins are moving to the new Target Field next season is good news. It can’t come soon enough.

The All-American baseball cap, by way of China

This is 2009, and Google pretty much rules the world. For no particular reason, tonight I typed “baseball caps” into the Google Images search bar to see what would come up first.

And here it is, at right: the “6 Panels Baseball Cap with Brass Buckle” as displayed on made-in-china.com.

The irony cannot be escaped. The first image for the All-American baseball cap is a generic black hat on a Web site in China where, for all I know, the people are banned from viewing my blog (poor comrades!).

I did a quick check of several of the caps in my closet, and at least half were made in China. Of the Major League Baseball caps I checked, the Giants, Cubs and Nationals all said “made in China.” My Phillies and Mariners caps are from Macau, and the Marlins lid is from Bangladesh. I couldn’t determine the origin of my Brewers lid, which is from New Era.

I’ve come to two conclusions. The Chinese must love our national pastime, if only for economic reasons. And I need to find a few more caps from the American League.

Rickey Henderson enters the Baseball Hall of Fame

The only question about Rickey Henderson entering the Baseball Hall of Fame is whether the engraver can catch him to record his image on his bronze enshrinement plaque. Henderson was the ultimate leadoff hitter in his brilliant career, stealing more bases than anyone in the history of the game.

I was lucky enough to be at County Stadium in Milwaukee during the summer of 1982 on the night he tied Lou Brock’s single-season stolen base record. I was running film for the Associated Press photo crew that night. Henderson wasn’t able to break the record that evening, and I was all charged up to go back the next night, which happened to be my 26th birthday. But the boss said no, they had enough help. I was crushed, and left the bureau in a foul mood. When I arrived home, I walked into a surprise birthday party that my wife and the bureau chief had arranged. All was forgiven, and it wasn’t long before the stadium darkroom called to tell me that Rickey had swiped another base and broke Brock’s record.

Late in Henderson’s career, I saw him play for the Newark Bears in the Atlantic League. In a game against the Somerset Patriots in Bridgewater, N.J., we were near the Bears’ dugout when an ump threw Henderson out of the game for mouthing off about a call he didn’t like. That competitive fire always burned in Henderson.

I saw Jim Rice play many times against the Indians in the old Cleveland Municipal Stadium and a couple times at Fenway Park in Boston while I was in college nearby. Rice only played for the Sox, so he’ll have a Boston cap on his plaque. I don’t know for certain how Henderson will be depicted, but for me, there’s no question: He goes with an Athletics cap.

Hitting the baseball perfecta

Inspired by a few trips to the betting window over the years, I’ve developed a system of rating how good a sports day I’ve had. To hit the daily double, my two favorite teams – the Cleveland Indians and San Francisco Giants – must win. That happens fairly often (although the Tribe didn’t exactly give me great odds during the first half of the season).

To hit a trifecta, the Tribe and Giants must win – and the Los Angeles Dodgers must lose.

For a superfecta: all of the above plus victory by the baseball teams next nearest to my heart, the Milwaukee Brewers and Oakland Athletics.

The parimutuel concept probably struck me in college, about the time I went to my first horse race. That was the 1976 Preakness at Pimlico in Baltimore. (I had bets on four of the horses in the field of six; neither won or placed.)

During college football season, the main components in my calculus were Ohio State winning and Michigan losing. Eventually, I added USC victories and Notre Dame losses to the formula.

In pro football, a Browns’ victory paired with a Steelers loss was extremely satisfying. Nowadays, my daily double is a San Francisco 49ers victory paired with a Dallas Cowboys loss. I’ll include the occasional (and I do mean occasional) Oakland Raiders victory  and a Steelers loss for good measure.

In September, when football and baseball seasons overlap, I can have either a mighty fine weekend or a miserable one, depending on the fortunes of the Indians, Giants, Buckeyes and Niners.

As for October, my baseball teams are usually watching the Yankees, Cardinals and Dodgers along with everybody else. But one can dream.

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.