The Houston Team Name Flame

One of the 80 36" diameter steel buffalo medallions that once rimmed the exterior grandstand walls of Buff Stadium in Houston from 1928 to 1961.

As Greg Lucas, Jerome Solomon, and others have noted, we have to hand it to Jim Crane, George Postolos, and the new ownership of the Houston major league baseball franchise this week for really doing a good job of stirring the pot of interest in the ball club this week. Their teasing offer earlier this week to be open to changing everything from prices to the the team’s colors and uniforms to the club’s nickname did the trick of drawing brief attention way from the afterglow of the Texans’ recently completed sort-of-happy football season and the onset of the win streak by a mediocre Rockets basketball team and caused fans to tug with each other over how they disparately view the scared identity of the local baseball nine.

As might be expected, most responding fans did not like the idea of changing the name of the team from Astros. Having played the past 47 years as the “Astros,” many fans grew up with that identity alone as their guiding light to loyalty. They could have been called the “Worms” and the reaction would have been just as strong under the circumstances. In 47 years, the word “Astros” has gone from “What the heck is that?” to an iconic identity of its own as the name for Houston baseball. To a slightly lesser degree, a few people expressed the same allegiance to “Colt .45s,” the name the club used during their first three years of big league play.

Then there are people like me who grew up with the names “Buffalos” or “Buffs” as our identity for Houston baseball. Our minor league club was first known as the Buffs in 1896 – and then consistently called the Buffalos/Buffs from 1907 through 1961.  Those of us who originally hoped that our first MLB club would keep the only powerful nickname from Houston history when they entered the National League in 1962 would welcome a second chance at that connected-to-Houston identity when the club moves to the American League in 2013. After all, the current ballpark sits on ground that was once roamed by real Houston Buffaloes – and it’s located only two blocks or so from Buffalo Bayou – and bringing back the Buffs identity would mark the third consecutive century in which our city had used that cherished identity for its professional baseball team.

And don’t tell us that Buffs is bush because it was once minor league. Tris Speaker was a Houston Buff in 1907 and Dizzy Dean pitched for the herd in 1931 as two of many greats who once played as Houston Buffalos. Plus the San Diego Padres, baltimore Orioles, and Miami Marlins have already demonstrated that major league clubs can bear up well by remaining or renewing their attachments to historical identities that began at the minor league level.

If the team remains the Astros, I get it – and I will not be surprised or hurt by the forces that work in favor of Astros. I just don’t have the strong emotional attachment to that name that I have with the Buffs imagery of my East End childhood. By now, Astros is iconic to the idea of Houston baseball and needs no attachment by reason or rhyme to space or the space program. – Sort of like the “Dodgers” in LA are simply who they are, without any connection to the art of dodging impact with Brooklyn trolleys that started them out as such a thousand seasons ago.

Houston Buffs 1947.

The only change I could not abide would be if the new ownership changed the nickname to something windy and stupid like “Hurricanes.” Don’t people who make long name suggestions realize from the start that their suggestions will never survive in print as such? Apparently not. As we have seen with the “D Backs” and “D Rays” (who wisely dropped the “Devil” and settled for “Rays) have learned, Hurricanes would quickly and forever go to print as “Canes” and then we would get to encounter the forever fun of checking out articles on Miami U. because we saw a “Canes” headline and thought it was about Houston baseball.

That’s all I’ve got on this one, except to add: “Give me a home where the buffalo roam – and I’ll be perfectly happy – as long as they win.”

By the way, history notes this other connection between the Buffs and our current major league team. – When Buff Stadium opened in 1928, the Union Station location of our current Minute Maid Park was the primary departure depot for downtown fans who wanted to catch the interurban train that ran by Buff Stadium after they got off work on game days.

Enough said. Go Buffs. Go Astros. Or whomever. – Just win.

The Cost of Human Imperfection

Joe Paterno, QB, Brown University, 1949.

I forget the precise quote, but I think it’s biblical in origin and it goes something like this: “To those who have much, much shall be asked.” Add that special requirement to the many times blessed life of the now deceased legendary coach, Joe Paterno, and you have a perfect storm formula for what may happen when our expectations of the great ones collide with the human condition of imperfection that rides within us all, and even in the hearts of the high and mighty.

Joe Paterno was a great football coach and human being, but in the greatest quiet challenge of his life, he failed all the still uncounted children who allegedly suffered in the hands of a Paterno employee, the now infamously accused Jerry Sandusky.

OK, the guy has not been convicted, but there has been enough there by eyewitness accusation to have pulled him out-of-place from doing any harm, or more harm, until his guilt or innocence could be sorted out and settled.

One big reason that earlier remedy never happened will always be the fact that Joe Paterno simply turned the matter over to his Penn State superiors and took no further action, even though the university quickly settled into a “let’s watch this situation and hope it goes away” pattern well over a decade ago.

As a mental health professional whose work has taken me through this unpleasant territory a few times over the years, I can tell you this much very clearly: It is horrible for the children involved and the longer they have to stay at risk, the more damaging it is. It isn’t easy for the eyewitnesses who stand up to the reality either. The offender is most often a family member, good friend or close neighbor, or a co-worker. It isn’t easy for most people to stand up to the reality of that behavior in people they love or value. The human escape wish is common: “Make this turn out to be untrue. Just make it go away.” Others turn the corner and make an abuse report and then quickly peel back into: “OK, I’ve done my part. Now leave me alone. I’ve got a life to live.” Psychologically, Joe Paterno apparently  got that far with the Sandusky allegations and no further.

I cannot remember a child abuse case from my own professional experience that hasn’t included someone who either made a report, or pushed the information upstairs for an institutional report, and then did nothing else, but these were just everyday people. They weren’t Joe Paterno.

The world expected more of JoePa and it didn’t happen. That makes him human, but unfortunately, it also stains his memory, his record, and his reputation from here to forever. That’s a heavy burden upon Paterno’s family and all the people who love him, but it is nothing by comparison to the harm done to those innocent children.

The casualty list from child abuse is similar to the casualty list from war. It will take years to get even an imperfect reading on how damaging this one alleged perpetrator’s actions in the Penn State case turn out to be for so many people.

One other note. It’s even hard to discuss this situation without treating Jerry Sandusky as a convicted perpetrator. He deserves a fair trial, if that’s even possible. It probably would’ve happened more fairly had everything been pressed to full light years ago, but that didn’t happen. It had to get tried in the media just to get our attention.

And now – even the opportunity for all around justice gets lost in the flight.

Two Musial Bios: Stewart Over Vecsey

Stan Musial with former coach Chuck Schmidt with daughter enjoy day at the beach in early 1940s ST trip.

Just finished reading the earliest of two recent biographies of Stan Musial, “Stan The Man: The Life and Times of Stan Musial” (2010) by Wayne Stewart. I had read the other, “Stan Musial: An American Life” (2011) by George Vecsey a couple of months ago.

Both writers had taken upon themselves a daunting challenge. It’s very hard to write a fascinating book about a popular, accomplished, good citizen, and already well-known athlete that will hold the readers’ interest for very long – and no baseball player in history fits that bill of difficulty any better than Stan Musial. Even Babe Ruth, the greatest bio object in baseball attracts new readers to new books about him. Because of the Babe’s character, people will read another treatment of his life to get either a new take on his famous past sins – or maybe get unlucky and read of something new that’s been unearthed.

Not so Musial. It all comes back as “modest man … the guy next door … a smile and a handshake for everyone … and he loved and took care of his mother … never cheated n his wife … was a great dad and role model … best teammate ever …. always willing to do whatever was best for the team … never put on airs around ordinary folk … and in business, was as honest as the day is long … even got to be close friends with Pope John Paul II as a very active practicing (and famous) Polish-American Catholic.

How many pages can a writer roll with that one and still hold his or her audience?

Stewart and Vecsey both did credible jobs – because of their abilities as researchers and writers – and because I really wanted to read what they had to say about my favorite active major leaguer from my post World War II childhood.

I didn’t really learn a lot of new things about Stan’s public performance, but I found Wayne Stewart’s trail on the factual unfolding of Musial’s personal life, from childhood to old age, just about the most complete I’ve ever read, and right down to a blow-by-blow unnecessary description of the deterioration in Musial’s physical health through 2010 on his way to age 90.

George Vecsey spent too much time trying to analyze Musial’s speech patterns for some fresh light on the inner soul of this seemingly perfect man. Maybe due to the fact that I come from the primary field of behavioral analysis in my lifelong “day job,” I have an aversion to excessive attention from writers who turn on a subject with a paraphrasing “AHA! The subject is smiling when he should be crying.”

Don’t go there, fellas – especially if you go there only armed with something you heard from Dr. Phil. It isn’t fair to your subject.

Vecsey exposed his writer’s expertise as a speech analyst on page 41 when, talking of a Musial childhood speech issue, he wrote:

“Musial would retain a trace of a stammer into his adult life, sometimes speaking fast in the local accent of his childhood, sometimes using familiar mantras – whaddayasay-whaddayasay, wunnerful-wunnerful – as  a defense mechanism, to soften having to speak seriously.”

Thank you, Dr. Vecsey, but we could have gone all day without reading that.

In the end, both writers paraded out the narrative, but personally found more enjoyment in the fact-centered linear account of Stewart.

In the end, I do always enjoy reading how mathematically it worked out that Stan Musial proved the even-steven quality of his hitting at home and on the road.  He finished his 22-season career (1941-1963) with a ,331 BA, 475 HR, and 1,951 RBI. His 3,630 career hits came evenly. He nailed 1,815 hits at home and 1,815 hits on the road.

The day I met Stan Musial, May 1996.

Take Me Out To The Ball Game

 

Three Versions. Take Your Pick. Or write your own.

Version 1: Classic Original.

Take me out to the ball game,

Take me out with the crowd.

Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack,

I don’t care if I never get back.

We will ROOT, ROOT, ROOT for the home team,

If they don’t win it’s a shame,

For it’s ONE! TWO! THREE STRIKES YOU’RE OUT,

In the old ball game.

 

Version 2: The Houstonian, I Don’t Wanna Go To The AL Whine.

Take me out – to the ball game,

Take me out – with the crowd.

Buy me a promise that our club is back,

Then settle down with a fifty buck snack.

We will ROOT! – ROOT! ROOT! for the ASTROS,

A-L ball –  is nearly the same,

It’s just ONE! – DUMB! – DH! away,

In the Land! – Of! – Shame!

 

Version 3: The 21st Century Business Model Re-formulation.

Take me out to the ball game.

Make me rich ‘fore we go,

Buy me some futures in peanut stock,

Nail me the beer track at every park shop.

Then we’ll ROOT! ROOT! ROOT! for redemption,

Of our copper exchanged for pure gold,

And we’ll ALL! GROW! RICH AS ALL HELL!

As we all – grow – old!

That Famous Mazeroski Home Run Ball

Mazeroski's 1960 Series-winning walk-off homer will find a 14 year old kid named Andy Jerpe on the other side of this wall. Andy left the game early to help his mom with supper and was standing among a small grove of cherry trees when the ball came down from its historic ride through the Pittsburgh sky. Jerpe preserved the ball through the winter, then lost it in the weeds of a sandlot game the following spring.

Mark Wernick, a good Houston SABR friend, dropped me a nice note about meeting Bill Mazeroski yesterday at the Tri-Star Collectibles Show at the George R. Brown Convention Center downtown. While signing a book for Mark, Wernick first apologized for asking what he knew was a question that Mazeroski had heard thousands of times – and then he asked it anyway.

“Was it a meatball, or was it a good pitch?” Wernick asked in reference to Ralph Terry’s last pitch of the 1960 World Series.

Mazeroski motioned with his hand and then spoke. “It wasn’t a good pitch. It was right over the plate. About belt high. Straight.”

“Fastball?” Wernick further queried.

“I thought it was,” Mazeroski added. “He (Terry) says it was a slider. But it didn’t slide.”

Referring to himself, of course, Wernick said, “You broke a 12-year old kid’s heart that day.”

Mark says he then noted a brief look of compassion in Mazeroski’s eyes, but that was quickly followed by an engaging laugh and further comment from the great Pirate hero. “I made a lot of them happy too!”

Wernick says he ironically agreed with Mazeroski. What he didn’t tell Mazeroski is that was listening to the game on an unauthorized transistor radio in the hallway at Mark Twain Junior High School in San Antonio at the time as a Yankees fan. The game-winning homer just happened while Wernick was walking from one class to another. Once it did it its stunning deed, Wernick says he had to duck into the boys’ rest room so that no one would see him crying from the pain that home run cased to him that day.

Mark Wernick’s a big boy these days. He’s recovered from the original pain and simply grown in his appreciation for the moment as simply a part of baseball’s magnificent history.

The irony is that another 14 year old Pirates fan named Andy Jerpe was having quite a different experience with that event at the very moment our San Antonio 14 year old was descending into despair. Andy Jerpe had been at the game, but had left a few minutes earlier to get home and help his mom with preparations for supper.

(Had that been me, I would have  stayed inside Forbes Field. Dinner would have been late. I’d have to have risked getting in trouble later.)

Because Andy Jerpe was a “good boy,” his progress home had carried him early to a grove of cherry trees, just beyond the left field line. All of a sudden, he heard an enormous roar from the ballpark. Then, from out of the sky, this baseball (THE Mazeroski Ball) drops out of the sky and only a few feet away. – And he’s the only one around the area at the time.

“Someone just homered,” was Jerpe’s conclusion. And once he went back long enough to find out all the particulars, he knew he wanted to keep the ball. He took it home and told the family wha had happened, but there was apparently no big uproar over his possession of a souvenir ball. Fans kept souvenir baseballs all the time.

Andy built a display case for it and things seemed cool about its survival for a while – or until spring came again. And Andy’s friends talked him into using the ball for some sandlot fun. Aside from the dirt spots and scratches that immediately started checking in, the ball was making it until Andy Jerpe himself sliced the ball into some tall festering weeds. The kids looked for the ball, but all say they never found it. And that is supposedly what happened to the Mazeroski.

Andy Jerpe says he has recovered from his regret and forgiven himself for losing the Mazeroski baseball.

Speak for yourself, Andy. You’re from Pittsburgh and should have known better, even at age 14, not to have used that special ball in any kind of sandlot game. There are those of us in Houston from the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s who never would have done that – even at 14 frickin’ years of age – and we would have ordinarily killed for a good baseball – as long as it didn’t belong first to history.

Andy Jerpe, You Idiot! (Just Kidding – sort of.)

Here’s a link to a pretty good story of the Andy Jerpe experience with the Mazeroski baseball.

  http://www.pittsburghlive.com/x/pittsburghtrib/sports/pirates/s_700262.html

 

MLB HR Totals By Position, All Time

The Line Score: Easiest numbers in baseball to understand and, in the end, only the "runs per game" relative to your opponent's comparable total is the only stat that ultimately matters.

A recent addition to the Baseball Almanac site simply confirms what we all seem to know to the bone from other anecdotal experience with baseball history, The major production of home runs comes from players at the first base position, followed quickly by the two corner outfielders. In theory, the other corner power man is supposed to be the third baseman, but home runs from that slot position in the defense are slightly fewer than those produced by center fielders. That makes sense when you think about all the power guys who’ve played the central outfield garden spot over the years. Try toting up all the HR-bashing third basemen once you get past Mike Schmidt and Chipper Jones, Ron Santo and Ken Boyer.

The Baseball Almanac chart claims to account for all home runs in big league history, except for 21 shots that are still under study and remain uncategorized.  One other interesting note: In spite of the relative newness of its existence in only one of the two major leagues, designated hitters still account for 9,296 of all home runs, exceeding the contributions of all pinch hitters and pitchers from the beginning of time.

Here are the total home runs by position for almost all home runs, save 21, all time:

P: 3,623

C: 22,973

1B: 37,222

2B: 15,874

3B: 26,665

SS: 14,462

LF: 33,719

CF: 27,006

RF: 34,506

DH: 9,296

PH: 4,961

What follow via link is an easy-on-the-eyes clor graph of how these home numbers  by position break down relative to each other:

http://www.baseball-almanac.com/charts/HR/home_runs_by_position.shtml

Sometimes its nice to contemplate a straightforward bowl of baseball stats that are easy to see, confirming, and not confusing.

Have a nice weekend, everybody!

My All Time Switch Hitting Lineup

Lance Berkman is my pick for Right Field.

The switch hitter lineup was a fun pick. With apologies to the less iconic figures of the Negro Leagues and their lack of comparable stats and limited anecdotal testimony, I stuck with MLB players, even a few that haven’t made it to the Hall of Fame at Catcher, Third, or Right Field. My guess is that Chipper Jones will get there in time and that Lance Berkman may even put himself into the running with 3-5 more outstanding years at St. Louis (or somewhere) before he retires. I’d like to see Lance tweak that BA up over .300 and the HR totals beyond 400 before he’s done. These improvements would help Berkman’s HOF chances. Not sure if anything can still happen to help Ted Simmons with the HOF, but he sure was a dangerous hitter in key games in his time, along with a steady handler of some excellent pitchers.

George Davis was an outstanding shortstop for the Cleveland Spiders, New York Giants, and Chicago White Sox during the last decade of the 19th century and the first ten years of the 20th. During the era of the move-the-runners strategies of the dead ball era, Davis flourished when witch hitters were highly valued for their ability to hit to all fields. He was good enough for the HOF and I picked him over Ozzie Smith for this club, knowing full well what I was giving up on defense, although Davis was reputedly excellent in the field too.

That being said, here are my starting nine:

Roster Spots & Player Stats

Pitcher: Carlos Zambrano (.241, 23 HR, 69 RBI)

Catcher: Ted Simmons (.285, 248 HR, 1,389 RBI)

1st Base: Eddie Murray (.287, 504 HR, 1,917 RBI)

2nd Base: Frankie Frisch (.316, 105 HR, 1,244 RBI)

3rd Base: Chipper Jones (.304, 454 HR, 1,561 RBI)

Shortstop: George Davis (.295, 73 HR, 1,440 RBI)

Left Field: Pete Rose ( .303, 160 HR, 1,314 RBI)

Center Field: Mickey Mantle (.298, 536 HR, 1,509 RBI)

Right Field: Lance Berkman (.296, 358 HR, 1,193 RBI)

 

Batting Order / Game Time:

Rose, LF

Frisch, 2B

Mantle, CF

Murray, 1B

Jones, 3B

Berkman, RF

Simmons, C

Davis, SS

Zambrano, P

 

My All Time Righties Lineup

Honus Wagner is my only right-handed selection to hold the bat in this way at business time..

After doing the lefty swingers yesterday, I had a little more time to give my nighties some thought. ( just didn’t give myself enough time to recall that Bob Lemon hit left-handed, not right. This is not my week for memory without double checks. Thank you David Munger for the head bounce. I picked Bob Gibson as my new right=handed hitting pitcher because, even though he hit in Mendoza Land, he was still the amazing Bob Gibson when he took the mound. Plus, I liked the idea of the “Double Gibson” battery.

That being said, I’m going with what I think the greatest right-handed hitters do best. Call ‘em the “Bash-Full Boys” or the “Bruise Brothers Supreme” and we still have a club that could most often beat another team senseless with long jacks. I granted myself the liberty of choosing the liberty of taking the Negro Leagues icon Josh Gibson as my right-handed hitting catcher in spite of the missing presence of comparable stats. This guy is simply too big to ignore as a legend of what might have been – had it not been for the damnable color line.

Please post your choices too. There is room for more than one of these great teams, depending on our awareness and perspective on what makes for greatness in a hitter, I’ll hang firm with my picks. As an actual club manager, I’d be happy to send this team out to play seven days a week and twice on Sundays.

Starters By Position

 Pitcher: Bob Gibson (.201, 24 HR, 144 RBI)

 Catcher:  Josh Gibson (Negro Leagues: 426, Gazillion HR & RBI)

1st Base:  Jimmie Foxx (.325, 534 HR, 1,922 RBI)

2nd Base: Rogers Hornsby (.358. 301 HR, 1,318 RBI)

3rd Base: Mike Schmidt (.267, 548 HR, 1,595 RBI)

Shortstop: Honus Wagner (.329, 101 HR, 7223 SB)

Left Field: Hank Aaron (.305. 755 HR. 2,297 RBI)

Center Field: Willie Mays (.302, 660 HR, 1.903 RBI)

Right Field: Roberto Clemente (.317, 240 HR, 1,305 RBI)

Game Day Lineup

Clemente, RF

Hornsby, 2B

Mays, CF

J. Gibson, C

Aaron, LF

Foxx, 1B

Schmidt, 3b

Wagner, SS

B. Gibson, P

My All Time Lefties Lineup

"When you think of lefties, think of me. I'm 'The Babe,' who else couid I be?"

We are now five weeks away from the date that pitchers and catchers report for spring training. My apologies to those who wish and sometimes ask that I forget baseball for a while during the winter months, I cannot seem to avoid the early January effect upon my brain that normally leads me into thoughts of various silly name teams – or my favorite all star lineups based upon some common uniting characteristics.

With no place for steroid suspects, here are my starting roster and lineup for my Hall of Fame All Star Left-handed Hitting Club. I might have given consideration to Sandy Koufax or Rube Waddell here, but both of those lefty throwers disqualified themselves by batting from the right side of the plate.

I also used no switch hitters. Other than Ruth and Cobb, you could possibly argue for a number of other guys in the other spots, but that’s what makes this kind of exercise so much fun. The room for disagreement is wide and open.

My hope is that some of you will submit your own starting lineups, with batting orders too. Feel free to go outside the Hall of Fame group list to pick your own top nine lefty hitters by position too.

Here are my picks:

Starters By Position

Pitcher: Lefty Grove (300-141, 3.06 ERA, 2,266 K’s)

Catcher: Yogi Berra (.285, 358 HR, 1,430 RBI)

1st Base: Lou Gehrig (.340, 493 HR, 1,995 RBI)

2nd Base: Charlie Gehringer (.320, 184 HR, 1,427 RBI)

3rd Base: Frank “Home Run” Baker (.307, 96 HR, 107 RBI)

Shortstop: Joe Sewell (.312, 49 HR, 1,055 RBI)

Left Field: Ted Williams (.344, 521 HR, 1,839 RBI)

Center Field: Ty Cobb (.367, 117 HR, 727 RBI)

Right Field: Babe Ruth (.342, 714 HR, 1,983 RBI)

Game Day Lineup

Ty Cobb, cf

Charlie Gehringer, 2b

Babe Ruth, rf

Ted Williams. lf

Lou Gehrig, 1b

Yogi Berra, c

Frank Baker, 3b

Joe Sewell, ss

Lefty Grove, p

Have a nice day!

What’s Behind the Blame for Tal Smith?

Ex-Astros President Tal Smith and former Astros Manager Bill Virdon

In reaction to the column I wrote this week on “Moneyball,” a reader identified as Gary has written the following as a comment on the article:

“Stats can tell you about 90% of what you need to know about established players. Projecting amateurs and minor leaguers is a different story. And, I’m sorry, but this must be said – Tal Smith has all but destroyed the Astros. It’s obvious the game passed him him by decades ago.”

Gary, forgive me, but when anyone tells me something is obvious that I still don’t see, I have to question: Am I just stupid here? Or do I first need to raise some questions of my own before I jump to that conclusion. So, please indulge me.

Are you saying that the current shape of the Astros roster and the longstanding decline of talent in the club’s minor league pipeline is all the result of Tal Smith’s out-of-touch inability to judge, sign, and cultivate competitive talent with no help or interference from his owner or supportive staff? Are you suggesting that Smith has no idea what is needed to make a contemporary MLB team competitive for a pennant and World Series trip through the playoffs? Are you suggesting that our worn out saddle on the now-in-its-last-year-multi-season contract with Carlos Lee is the fault of Tal Smith’s out-of-touch senior view on major league baseball?

I’m not writing today to simply defend Tal Smith. He doesn’t need any help from me on that score. I am writing to question any conclusion that the Astros’ current status is the result of poor judgment on Tal Smith’s part, with no help from circumstances and decision-making that went far beyond his individual control as President of Baseball Operations.

I don’t claim to know Tal Smith in-depth beyond our occasional baseball discussions over the years, but I have to admit to some favorable impression of his ideas on what a baseball club needs – and I have been very impressed with his open and routine use of external consultants over time on the assessment of both contract players and amateur prospects. Tal always maintained his lines with out-of-the-orgnization people like me. He never criticized anyone within his decision-making loop to me for anything that didn’t work out as he might have hoped.

It’s hard to see how any employed top baseball person in any organization today can deal with the impact of owners or market prices on talent coming into play and overriding any best laid plans of the hired baseball planning leader, but I would certainly like to know what the best modern solution to these ills might be. Unless you, or someone else, can show us how Tal Smith was not up-to-speed in specific terms as a baseball operations leader, I’ll just have to place myself in the “stupid” category for my failure to see the obvious.

Now, once upon a time, Cy Young pitched in the first World Series of 1903. On days he didn’t pitch, he helped sell tickets at the gate to the other games played in Boston. Not once did I ever hear Tal Smith say, “We need a Number One Starter in our rotation who also knows how to make change.” Had Tal said something like that, I would have had to agree. He needed to retire.

What’s really behind the bitterness that some people seem to have for Tal Smith? Is it simply the fact that the franchise went a half century with Tal Smith prominently in the picture without winning a single World Series?

Easy targets are hard to miss.

How much longer will it be before some Smith-hater decides to celebrate their resentment further by proposing that the Astros level Tal’s Hill from the centerfield landscape at Minute Maid Park?

Still, I have to finish where I started: I just wonder what you have in mind when you say that it is “obvious the game passed him (Tal Smith) by decades ago?” Do we simply reach that conclusion based upon age? If that’s it, you’ve got me too.