The Heavyweight Bautista: Martinelli vs. Cox. Rematch.

Stepping Into The Ring and/or Up To The Plate

Before I begin, let me say that this blog is inspired by a fantastic piece of writing by Tom Benjamin at canuckscorner.com titled “Dumb and Damien.[i]” I took these quotes directly from Tom’s transcripts of this: http://video.thescore.com/watch/a-look-into-the-battle-between-nhl-reporters-and-bloggers . “A Look into the Battle Between NHL Reporters and Bloggers,” Score V-Blog story. 

Tom, if you are reading this thank you for sparking my fire at my old friend Mr. Damien Cox.  I have been waiting since August 22, 2010 after Cox’s, “Gotta at Least Ask the Question[ii]” umm... “Blog?/Article?/Piece of Journalism?” came out to write this one up.  I for one, am a strong supporter of the blogosphere.  I believe that the information found on twitter feeds, facebook posts, and any online form of media consumption is not to be disregarded as Cox would have us think. 

(Please note that this is all done in good fun)

The following is my dismantling of Cox’s 3 arguments in The Score’s V-Blog. 

Round 1: The Truth - Online Media is too Critical and Aggressive.

DC: “Should we not ask them for comment and to explain? Is it possible that what somebody is saying about Colin Campbell may not exactly be the truth? If you are a person who wants to do that, all of a sudden you are protecting people. All of a sudden you are not being tough enough. And I just think that’s unfair. And I understand that’s part of what people who consider themselves outside the mainstream media want to portray themselves as tougher, nastier. I understand that that’s what they want to do, um, and to do it they try to tear down other people. And quite frankly that’s a waste of everybody’s time.”

You’re right Damien.  We should allow the person we are accusing, or writing a story about, the chance to comment.  So allow me to pull up my favourite article of yours, “Gotta at Least Ask the Question,” to see how real journalists like yourself do just that.

Direct Quotes from Damien Cox about Jose Bautista and the Toronto Blue Jays:

-“When it comes to Jose Bautista, how is it exactly that at the age of 29 he's suddenly become the most dangerous power hitter in baseball?...

...Chance? Healthy living? Diet? New contact lenses? Comfortable batting gloves?”

            -“Anyone reading about the Roger Clemens perjury case this week, which of course brings up all of baseball's tawdry steroid history, should at least be willing to wonder about Bautista's sudden transformation into the dinger king.”

            -“ The Blue Jays, we know, have quietly become known as a bit of a nest for alleged steroid abusers over the years. Clemens played here. Gregg Zaun has been implicated. Ditto for Troy Glaus.”

            -“ But the fact is that baseball's history, and the Nixonian way in which the Selig administration and the players association have chosen to deal with the steroid issue over the years, should compel any intelligent person to wonder when a player suddenly starts displaying abilities never before seen in his career.”

-“Blue Jay fans won't like it. But you've got to at least ask the question when it comes to Jose Bautista.”

You are right Damien, we should ask questions!  Since this is about Jose Bautista, and going by your quote this week, we should ask Jose Bautista directly!

Direct Quotes from Jose Bautista or the Toronto Blue Jays Training Staff Commenting on Steroids as Found in the Article:

-...

-...

-...(cricket)

Whoa Damien!  Is this not a direct case of you trying to portray yourself as a Brian Burke-esque, “tougher, nastier?” like you said in your recent interview? And that this article must then be, “Quite frankly a waste of everybodys time?”

Well your point is made Damien.  Unfortunately for you, it was best exemplified against your own journalism, which you were attempting to defend, and thus, making it illogical and irrelevant.

Logical Breakdown Session!:

Proper journalism always has supporting comments. --> all A is B

Damien Cox writes. -->  C

This Damien Cox article has no supporting comments. -->   C has ~B

Therefore Damien Cox does not always write proper journalism.  --> if C has ~B then is ~A

Sorry Damien! logic doesn’t lie!

Adam 1 – Cox 0

Round 2: Bias Hurts Journalism: Fans Should Stay in the Stands

DC: The basic tenet of sports journalism as long as I’ve been in it is “No cheering in the press box.” And some places literally have signs “No cheering in the press box.” If your primary function is to cheer for the team then you belong in the stands with the fan.

So Damien, there should be no bias in journalism? Ok let’s go back to the August 22 article again

shall we.

Direct Quotes from Damien Cox on Baseball:

-“For the following unpopular question, blame Major League baseball and all the nonsense it has spewed over the past decade.”

-“As of Sunday morning, he had 38 homers, six more than the great Albert Pujols, seven more than Miguel Cabrera and Adam Dunn.”

-“ For the fact that we do, blame baseball.”

Seemslike Damien Cox has had his own opinion and image of baseball forever changed to the negative?  It seems like no matter how much regulated testing now goes on, Damien Cox is going to believe that steroids have ruined baseball.  These quotes make it very apparent that Damien Cox does not respect baseball like he does other sports, aside from, “The Great Albert Pujols.” But Albert isn’t Damiens favourite player!  That would be biased!  Journalists can’t be biased!  Right Damien?

Logic Time!

No journalism should be biased. -->  A is  ~B

Damien Cox writes. --> C

Damien Cox writes biased statements. --> C is B

Damien Cox is not a journalist. --> if A is ~ B, and C is B, then C is ~A.

Sorry Damien, your words!

Adam -2, Cox -0

Round 3: Anonymity is Bad.  You need to have some sort of accountability.

DC: “Part of what concerns me about what I see is that there is irresponsibility and no consequences. I can say whatever I want about anybody and I don’t even have to put my name on it. I can’t see how that’s good.”

I can see how it is good, and so can any school teacher or university professor as well.  It is the name of the writer that renders a bias in the reader.  The writer’s personal ideals should not have anything to do with the validity of the article, and to most readers, they don’t.  If an article is written by a Blue Jays fan, I am more likely to take it as something with journalistic integrity because it was written with passion.  I will at the very least want to know what the ghost-writer has to say, on the topic that they are so involved with. 

It is when we put nametags on writers that we develop our own unwarranted impressions on a written work well before reading it.  This is why the ghost-writing of the internet is so intriguing.  To the prospective reader on the blogosphere, we have forced them to finally not judge a book by its cover.

Logic:

Anonymity is bad journalism. --> ~N is ~J

All bias is bad journalism. --> B is ~J

A name is a bias. --> N is B.

 A name is bad journalism. --> N is B is ~J

Everything must either have a name, or not a name. --> N or ~N

Everything is bad journalism. --> N =~J, ~N =J

So Damien, I guess we all flunk that one!  Call it a deuce!

Final Score:

Adam-2.5 Cox-0.5

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Final Words:

Well that is all I have to say because...

DC: “When somebody says, like that guy, something that is so ignorant and so misinformed and quite frankly so beneath anybody whose been in the business… to even respond to it… all I can really do is laugh”...or ask the question? Right Damien?

Someone cue DJ Khaled please...

Now, to all my fellow bloggers out there:

“Errrreeeboddy Hands Go UP!”

---

[i] http://canuckscorner.com/tombenjamin/2010/11/27/dumb-and-damien/

[ii] http://thestar.blogs.com/thespin/2010/08/gotta-at-least-ask-the-question.html

Little-League Exercises: Tips To A Healthier 14 Year Old You

Get Inspired...

No matter how athletic you may already be, you always want to get better.  It is this push for the next fraction of an increase in our physical health, which we work endless hours towards.  It is this push that makes us keep all of those old promotional t-shirts from Jays games and frosh weeks past, so that we have proper attire.  And, it is this push that makes us use a somewhat ludicrous amount of Tide on a regular basis to clean said attire.  But through it all, still, we push.

Recently I sparked myself to not just push a little, but shove myself far beyond any comfort levels. I was going to not just run, but race, a half marathon, in what I will only say is a, “Beyond unrealistic time” goal.  But I will do it.

My Gatorade X-Factor to this race is the fact that I am a diabetic and that this type of strenuous activity over this length of time requires a lot of personal-health management, to decrease the already present risks.  Simply put though, diabetics have a 6^th sense for their blood sugar.  And can overcome this.  When Brandon Morrow threw his “almost no-no” this past season I was nervously watching in the stands, knowing that my blood sugar was fluctuating heavily simply based on the fact that there were unusual stresses forcing unknown actions upon my body.  At this point, I could not imagine what Brandon’s 6^th sense for diabetes was doing, but to manage and overcome it is nothing short of spectacular on his part.

Reading Brandon’s story after the game, and hearing about how he had carefully drank managed amounts of Gatorade between innings to keep his sugar levels balanced, and keep him focused and healthy, was nothing short of inspirational.  I built off of this, and this past fall, I found my outlet to use his inspiration...

Hey-Oh Buffalo: How I Became Born To Run

My story here can be summed up in an equation:

Bills Game + Tailgating + Beer + Fur Hat + Intersection + Car +Adam =Broken Leg

 This is a simple formula which resulted in my leg being “Reggie Bush’d” for 6-8 weeks.  During this timeframe I found it extremely awkward to get around.  I couldn’t go more than a few blocks without stopping to lean on a wall, I couldn’t beat a changing light (the flashing orange hand would mock at me), and packed streetcars were even more horrendous when you are crowded onto one with one functional leg (below you’ll see an exercise which taught us how to better manage this). 

I decided at that point, when my leg healed,

“I’m running, and Forrest Gump ain’t got nothin’ on what moves I’m gonna pull.”

So now, I’m rehabbing and training for this race in the spring and I couldn’t be happier.  And while I find new exercises and try new things every day, I am inspired to write on some old little league baseball exercises that coach gave us before a game, or during practice that worked out so well.

Hans and Franz may have thought bigger was better, but little league coaches had routines that would turn any chump into a 5-Tool All-Star!

So why don’t you try incorporating any of these into your next routine:

The Arm Circles

A true test of one’s upper body strength, the arm circles consist of extending both arms and moving them in small circular patterns.  After a few moments, make the circles larger, but don’t get too excited yet! After a few more moments, let them grow and grow and grow!   Once you are at big, full-body circles you know you are burning some serious calories!

This exercise’s main purpose was to prepare the body for when you needed to drill into the outfield wall, yet you could not find a Black & Decker power drill around which could be deemed suitable for the task. 

Look ma’ I can do it with my hands!

Tree-Suicides

These are not your “high-school-gym-floor-basketball-court-70’s-inspired-colour-scheme” lines suicides we’re talking about here.  These are the real-deal suicides.  When coach calls out a tree line, the team runs, touches the tree, and runs back.  Coach calls out the next tree line, it’s a little deeper, and you run back.  After a while you have to run through an entire forest (def’n forest: small underdeveloped tree line surrounding a residential property) dodging teammates, and avoiding head-on collisions with your sworn enemies, the trees.  The trees are intimidating, as they are not made of flesh and bone like us common folk.  But are made of Birch, Oak and Maple, the materials from which the Gods were sculpted.  These deity-like plants could easily put you in your place by having you run into them, resulting in a bloody nose.  Or, they may trip you on one of their roots, leading to a nasty knee scrape.

Either way, it was tough work battling in the field with the trees, and this exercise was not for the light at heart.  However, if you start at it, it will increase your sense of awareness, and your overall pine-smelly-ness.

Reach For The Spikes!

The lower body workout is of great importance, and unfortunately does not always get the credit it deserves.  The simple fact that no one on the beach will ever say, “Hey, I love your calves!” is a firm reminder that upper body exercises will always be the trump card to your training regimen.

Never the less, coaches have never discriminated against the lower body workout, and have developed some wonderful methods over time to assist in development.  Coach was very much obsessed with the philosophy that touching your cleats more made you a better athlete.  The firmer my hold on those foot sweat ridden beauties the better I was going to be!

The best of these lower-body exercises being when coach had you bend your leg back, grab your foot, and hold it for an extended period of time.  Now, there is a group of people who will say, “That is not an exercise, it’s a useless stretch.”  To them I say absolutely not!  It is a core workout! And the next time you are brutally decapitated while playing shortstop with one out, and there is a sharp grounder hot back up the middle.  You will be thankful you took this exercise seriously, so that you could hop on over, make the play, and turn 2 like the defensive stud of a tripod you are!

I can also thank this exercise for training my once busted leg how to lessen the load on those packed streetcar commutes!

“Thanks Coach!”

So Fit The Fiddle Has Envy

So go out there, try these new routines, sweat it out, and get back into the shape you were in when you were 14.  I know I’m trying! 

Always remember, there are two roads in life:  The long road, and the easy road.  The easy road is just that, it’s easy.  The long road will reward you greatly, yet it is hard, and requires a lot of time and energy.  So if you take this long road, be sure to drink a lot of beer, because beer has calories, and calories are energy, and thus, great amounts of beer must be consumed in order to make all of the dreams of the long road possible.

I know I’ll remember this.  Now if you excuse me, I must go and have a protein shake, a purple Gatorade, and a Budweiser. It’s time to get my run on!

But, In all seriousness...

Go be great.  

Go find your inspiration.  

Go reach for that next level that is within yourself, and is within your grasp.


Go and take it.

 Happy Training!

The Tree Goes Up: Showin’ Love to the Glove Over Christmas

This past weekend, I took the necessary steps to further entrench myself into the Christmas (Holiday) season, and I set up my tree.  For those who care, it is a dashing display of the festive spirit decorated in red, silver and the yuletide spirit. 

As I was decorating the tree, several questions came to my mind.  The first was that, “I have no tree skirt.” The second was, “Where does one buy a tree skirt?” the third was, “Will any of these places have their decorations out early enough so that I can purchase a tree skirt right now?” And the fourth, and final thought that I eventually sat to ponder was, “Remember the gifts over the years that you have graciously received from under the tree, and on top of those tree skirts?”

As I thought about all of the presents I have received at Christmas’ past, from “Hot Wheels” to “Ninja Turtles,” from “Mouse Trap” to “Tornado Rex,” and from tube socks to track pants, there was one present under the tree which had a much longer lasting impact than the 18 minutes it took me to break everything else I received.  That present was my first baseball glove, a gift that would set the stage for many years of recess, pre-dusk games, and full blown weekend series’.

But first, after opening it up, and with my eyes a glow, I was going to fill that sucker with my dad’s shaving cream, wrap it in twine, and put it under my bed frame.  I was then going to sleep on it while I dreamt of the diving catches, and double plays it would soon help me turn.

I loved my Wilson glove.

Glove and Memories:

We all remember our first baseball glove.  Of course, I am not talking about the, “older sibling hand-me-down dried sweat” glove to which the Nirvana song “Smells like Teen Spirit” was loosely based upon.  I am talking about that first fresh leather glove you received which was ALL yours.  It fit your hand perfectly, and continuously felt better with every catch that further moulded its inner padding to your knuckles.

Everyone’s glove was different, and everyone was proud of their own gloves particular features:

The Colour:

Were you a traditionalist of the game?  Then you went beige.  The colour provided from the red, yellow or white logo was enough of an edge as you required for this classic look.

Were you a rebel without a cause?  Then you went black.  It was edgy and raw, like the member of a biker gang. If a biker gang member was 8 and was wearing grey polyester pants.

Or did you have another colour? Red or blue perhaps? If so,     ... phhh showoff.

The Web:  

Were you the mysterious and elusive type?  Then you had a closed off, cross-hatched basket hiding the ball like a Gold Glove Calibre Houdini.

Or were you the physicist? Then you took the streamlined approach, and let the wind go through an open, single cross-hatched pocket.  This allowed you to break down your wind resistance as you hustled to make the play you Isaac Newton of the infield.

The Pocket:  

Who signed the inside of yours? Who was your signature series player? It is common knowledge that if you had the glove with a major league players’ screen printed autograph, then clearly you were the next best thing to that all-star fielder actually playing for your team.

The Finger Slot: 

All in, no exceptions, unless your name is Rick Vaughn.

We all tried it once, and no one tried it again, the one finger out strategy.  It was particularly tempting if your glove had the sole index finger opening to slide it through.  We would try it one time, thinking it firmed our grasp, or balanced our glove better, or basically just looked bad ass.  The reason for trying it, is not remembered as clearly as the first time we caught a screaming liner, sprained our thumb, and called for mom in the stands.  We kept all fingers in from that day forward, peeking at other players with a Freudian smirk whenever you saw someone on the other team making this painful rookie mistake.

The Wrist Strap:

Were you quick off the draw? Then you went the way of a Velcro strap. Like shoes, Velcro  on gloves was much more common, and accepted, as a youngster then as an adult. But, if you were able to rock it successfully in your senior years, Kudos to you friend, and to your tear-away pant collection as well!

Were you a knotty? The traditional way to secure your glove and give it the feel you want, the obscure knot you tied your glove’s leather laces with always followed the “Over under in and out...” strategic-knot-song, about as well as you followed the “Only two cookies after dinner” rule.

People Got Me Questionin’ Where Is the Glove?

After thinking about what it looked like, how it felt, and how god awful it smelled, next think about, “Where is my old glove?”

Most held onto it dearly, unless you let your parents begrudgingly give yours (as stated above) to your younger sibling. 

My brother did, and I took it, and left it on a park bench.  I was never forgiven, and 15 years later I finally, owned up to my mistakes, and bought him a new one for his birthday. 

To those of us who didn’t have to pass it along, you should reach into the old closet and pull out that old piece of leather, more worn in than the crotchety lady’s face who complains ahead of you in the morning coffee line.

Hold up that glove and slide it on.  It is worked in with all your years of childhood summers, and is filled with the memories of gallivanting about during family trips to the ballpark, with hopes of catching that one homer!

While you ponder your past together with your glove, be sure to look closely at it.  In the faintest tone, you should still be able to see where mom initialled your name into the felt covering on the wrist strap, ensuring that the world knew:

“this glove was made just for you.”