Quick Random Baseball Thought: The unique hitting styles of Lau and Hriniak

I have been watching a lot of baseball and going to a lot of games, so here is a (not-so random) thought about baseball:

Back in the 70s, 80s, and even early 90s, many major league hitters subscribed to the hitting philosophies of hitting coaches Walt Hriniak and Charlie Lau. These coaches espoused a more contact driven, line drive approach. Their style was unique, and you could easily point out the hitters who followed it.* Players who subscribed to their theories included two Hall of Famers (George Brett and Wade Boggs), one future Hall of Famer (Frank Thomas), one all-star caliber player (Robin Ventura), and several other solid major leaguers such as former Boston catcher Rich Gedman.

(That was something unique to Lau and Hriniak. There aren't too many other coaches whose students are easily distinguishable. For example, Rudy Jamarillo of the Texas Rangers is the premier batting coach in today's game, but how many batters can I identify as Jamarillo followers? None.)

With such a famous line of Lau/Hriniak disciples, you would think their style would carry on past their respective retirements. Yet the line stops there. As far as I know there no longer any subscribers to Hriniak and Lau's theories currently in the majors. No hitters, no coaches, nothing.

Maybe the hitting philosophies of Lau and Hriniak died with the emergence of the steroid era. Hitting line drives became passe when hitters were more concerned with trying to out-homer their peers. If hitting with an uppercut would equate to millions more in the next contract, who can blame players for shunning a mantra of line drives and contact?

Yet now with the steroid era hopefully behind us, is it possible that we could see a return to the Hriniak/Lau style of hitting? Currently Lau's son, Charlie Lau Jr., runs a hitting school in Fort Lauderdale. Maybe he is the future of major league hitting.

Kudos to the People of Rhode Island

Although I have never lived there, I've always had an affinity for Rhode Island. For some reason, I picture Rhode Island as the most underdog of all the states, constantly fighting for its survival amongst states that would like nothing more than to annex it into their territory. Although I might be wrong, I imagine Rhode Island as a remnant of state-creating policies of way-back; that if we were to re-create the states and re-draw the lines, Rhode Island would cease to exist.

Many moons ago, back in my early days of journalistic integrity, I wrote a piece for the FSU newspaper advocating independence for Rhode Island. I wrote about a plan to conquer Rhode Island and lead its inhabitants to a life free of tyranny and without the shackles of oppression.

In my article, entitled "Operation C.O.R.I.: Conquerors of Rhode Island", one of my biggest points on why the people of the state would join my efforts and cooperate with my revolution was that "it is neither a road nor an island. The inhabitants have to call themselves “Islanders” and they don’t even live on an island." I of course blamed The Man for this deception.

So it was with great joy that I read my idea to change the state's name, which I at most considered a far-fetched fantasy, had grown closer to reality. Last Thursday, the Rhode Island House of Representative voted 70-3 to let residents decide whether or not to change the official name of the state. This is fantastic news. Finally, the people are being given an opportunity to fix a centuries-old problem of misidentity.

CORRECTION: Upon actually reading the article, it says the proposed referendum actually only amends the last part of the official title of the state, the mention of "Providence Plantations". The referendum would make the official title the "State of Rhode Island".

Looks like The Man will still have his way with the people of Rhode Island.

One day, I will rescue you, people of Rhode Island. One day, I will come before you and chant "You’re not a road! You’re not an island! You’re not sheep! Stand Defiant!". Then we will march the streets together to chants of "Hey Providence! We are Anti-Dominance!" Then you will be known as "Land Formerly Known as Rhode Island".

It will be a glorious day indeed.

Talkin' About The Man

(I don't feel like writing anything original tonight, so I'm dusting off a post I did for the old Afro-Squad website sometime last year. There is of course a reason for this.)

I've been a big fan of the Afro-Squad since way back in the day. And on that horrible morning when The Man swooped in and stopped their flow for while, I cried. Who was going to teach me how to be funkier than Dolemite wearing sweaty gym socks?

But now, of course, the Afro-Squad is back and better than ever. Much to my surprise, shortly after I found them doing their thing, they asked me if I wanted to contribute. Of course. Would you say no if Bootsy Collins invited you on tour? I think not. So as the Afro-Squad keeps things funky with the ladies and the leglocks, I'm going to drop a little knowledge about what The Man is up to. Damn the Man.

As Socrates once said, The Man is everywhere, in everything, and completely full of it. You know, to be honest, I don't know if Socrates actually said that. Maybe I just made it up. But I like it.

Anyway, if you didn't know already, The Man controls most of the system that is our lives. He makes things cost money so you have to work, he makes you work at work so you have only a few precious hours at the house to sit down and watch some movies or listen to some tunes. Then The Man charges you for the electricity you use so you have to go back to work to pay off the bills. See, it's never ending. That's alright though, I'll go to work. To paraphrase the rapper Paris, don't let The Man know you understand his plan.

But you know what really makes me mad? You know what really tweaks my melon? Ever see people get pulled over by The Man on their way to work? What sort of trickery is this? Yeah, The Man even gave me a ticket when I was trying to get to work on time. Totally not cool.

Say you have to go work for The Man way early in the A.M. You wake up, clean yourself, grab some grub, and damn, you forgot your ride is on "E". Can't get to work with no gas. So you swing by the gas station for a quick fill-up. Now you are running late. The Man will not be happy.

After you throw some gas in the ride, you try speeding a bit to make up some time. But who pulls out behind you? Those flashing lights. The fuzz, the coppers, the po-lease. Damn The Man again. Now not only are you even more late, but because of the ticket he was kind enough give you, now you have to pay The Man some of your hard-earned cash, which means you can't take your honey out on a date unless you work a few more hours. And that's if she's not finding another guy to spend time with while you are spending all your hours at the j-o-b. Which of course, you are lucky to still have; because you know The Man doesn't take kindly to being late.

UPDATE: Follow The Man's company on Twitter: The Man Incorporated.

The battle for my heart

This was the most difficult weekend for me in a long time.

It's been a while since I followed up on the pain my heart was in last year. If you don't remember, or even if you do, last year there was a challenger to my attention. My desire for my long-distance love was being infringed upon by a growing local interest.

To summarize, at first she caught my eye. Then my interest in her grew. I never stopped loving my long-distance love. She was just so far away. Then in the fall, when my long-distance love lost her bearing, fell back into old habits, and collapsed in front of everyone, it was my new local interest who seized my heart and spent the fall with me. I was smitten.

This year I was better at balancing my emotions. Neither my long-term love nor my local interest were completely capturing my heart. They were both just kinda there, doing their thing, making me smile at times, but never truly clutching my love.

Then I noticed something was going on. My local interest had left to travel to the city of my long-term love and was preparing to duke it out over me. She claimed she was going to destroy my long-distance love, shattering my memories, ridding my heart of any remnants of yesteryear. She was going to be the only object of my affection.

On Friday night, my long-distance love stood up to the challenge, smacking my local interest in the mouth. On Saturday, they faced off again, each putting their best foot forward. But it was my local interest who came up victorious. Nothing was decided between them, and to be honest, I wanted it to end that way.

Sunday brought a third and final battle between the two loves of my life. To my dismay, it was a back and forth fight to the death. I really wanted it to end a tie. But my local interest clobbered my long-distance love with a vicious blow, taking the victory. And now she is on her way back to the Tampa area, ready to take on the world.

I wish I knew how to feel. I want to be happy for my local interest. She has really made something of herself. She has cleaned up and become the envy of all of her peers. But I can't ever let go of my long-distance love. We've been through the good times and through more bad times than I could even try to count.

As tough as this past weekend was, there is a chance my heart could be torn even worse. There is a chance that one day I might have to choose who to spend the fall with. And if they end up fighting over me then?

I might just cry.

Ancient Grapplers Throwing Down in San Antonio

While mindlessly perusing the Web, I found this video on www.Archive.org:

Description: This is a clip from a Universal Newsreel dated September 15, 1937. This clip features Dolores Gonzales and Clara Mortensen in a bout that took place September 1, 1937 in the San Antonio, Texas Walkathon arena. The referee is Dr. Karl Sarpolis, also a wrestler. This is the first professional female wrestling bout held in San Antonio. Clara won the match, but later faced Dolores again for a re-match because of claims that Sarpolis was an unfair ref.



Wow. There are some moves in here that would make even the most modern fan get off their feet. Check out the flip at the 1:25 mark and the spinning whatever-it-is that spills into the crowd at the 1:31.

Where to put my dollar?

So the other day I found a dollar. This dollar, along with the other dollar I found in my spare pair of pants, gives me two dollars. Now that I have two dollars, I think I will invest one of them. Maybe, just maybe, I can make a third dollar. Then I will have three dollars.

But where to invest my one dollar?

Maybe in a municipal fund?

I just finished reading an article about municipal bonds (yes, I read financial newsletters). This article got me thinking:

Could municipal bond investing represent a certain demographic's level of faith in the local government's ability to stay afloat?

More than just an investment opportunity, investing in municipal bonds is a statement of confidence in the local government. It is a strange dilemma that people could have more faith in the stability in corporations than in their own government.

A true measure of the popularity of municipal bonds would be to measure the actual investment and compare that to expected (or average) investment in a typical scenario. Especially during expected times of municipal bond prosperity. If people aren't investing in bonds when the market says it is financially prudent for them to do so, that means there is another factor in play. Possibly something social, such as faith in the system.

What if no one believed in government investing opportunities? Would the government tax more?

I'll admit, I don't know much about this stuff. But those are just some thoughts I had.

They do seem smart though, don't they?

Maybe I will take my one dollar and invest it in an independent minor league baseball team.

That sounds like a much more stable investment than investing in the government.

A Whap off the Old Block

This is a story I was working on a few weeks ago but had put down because I didn't have the time to flesh it out. After reading fellow blogger Brian Spaeth's latest post on his broken face, I decided to pick the story back up and post it here. Enjoy.

When I was little, my father was famous. He was the most well-known back of the head slapper in the neighborhood. And he was the house discipliner. He wasn't scared of anyone, but we were scared of him. If you acted up, acted out of line, or acted the fool - whap! - my dad would smack you in the back of the head. He was like an old west gunslinger, hands in his pocket one moment, an unexpected whap!, and his hands right back where they began.

Over time I've noticed I've grown a lot like my dad. The hair on top is thinning, I waste my nights drinking and talking about the government, and I perfected the magic art of slapping the back of someone's head. I became quite the master. I could slap someone without them even knowing it was me. Even when we were the only two people in the room. Left-handed, right-handed, it doesn't matter. I was an ambidextrous head-slapper.

Unfortunately, however, my penchant for slapping heads became a bit of a problem. The urge was uncontrollable. I couldn't pass a bald-headed person without giving their round, shiny dome a nice, hard whap!. One day, for example, I was stepping out of a public bathroom stall and absolutely could not control myself from smacking the head of a gentleman standing at a urinal. My hand hit the back of his head, his front of his head bounced off the wall in front of him, and he collapsed in a heap in front of me. That was last time I went out to my favorite pub.

I didn't fare any better in other places either. While in church a few years ago, I smacked the back of the head of every person in an entire pew as they were bowed in prayer. Their painful yelps sounded like a choir of anguish. Needless to say, I was quickly banished from Father Carmine's community of the faithful.

Desperate and alone, I went to the only place I knew that could offer solace: the local stripclub. An amazingly bad idea. Although I was able to restrain myself from smacking the back of the heads of the gentlemen tossing dollar bills to the dancers, I was quickly escorted out in a bouncer's restricting embrace after I smacked the back of a stripper's head as she hung upside down off a pole.

My passion to imitate my father's disciplinary technique became my cross to bear. I didn't know how to control myself. I finally sought psychiatric help.

After six months of deep, prolonged mental probing, I am proud to say that I am cured. I no longer have the urge to smack the back of anyone's head.

A nice round ass, on the other hand ...

The Nike rap that should have been

By now, most NBA fans have seen the latest Nike LeBron James - Kobe Bryant Muppet commercial featuring "neighbor" Lil Dez breaking it down with a little rap. If you haven't seen it, here it is:

Ok, yeah, that was cute. But the lyrics are all wrong. Here is how the song should have gone:

Yeah, it's Lil Dez, y'all
Uh
When Nike makes a spot they put it on TV
Usually with a player or two we like to see
They look sharp and all, playing their basketball
This year on Kobe and LeBron Nike spent it all

You know they say those two are the best
The fans, the coaches, the blogs, and the rest
That’s why the folks at Nike dropped the funds
Bettin' it all on Laker and Cav playoff runs

But of course you know what happened next
The curse of Cleveland had ‘em vexed
In 2010 Nike will have that fixed
When they get LeBron to sign with the Knicks
Word

Yeah, that's much better.

For those curious, here are the original lyrics:

Yeah, it's Lil Dez, y'all
Uh
When Mom goes to work, I come and play
With my two favorite guys from the NBA
We play basketball, we play ping pong
We cook some food, they're Kobe and LeBron
They are my two favorite guys
All my friends in the schoolyard idolize
There is a pool out back
I'll take a dip
They even have a shoe closet
But none of the kicks fit
Maybe someday I can be big like them
From way downtown, shoot the ball to win
No complex, condo, can compare
Cause my favorite guys live right upstairs
Word

An FSU-related baseball post and an interesting question on the Twitter

In case you are not following me on twitter (@JordiScrubbings) or checking the other places I blog on a consistent basis, I just posted about the Milwaukee Brewers odd coincidence of drafting two-sport FSU quarterbacks D'Vontrey Richardson (2009) and Charlie Ward (1993).

Another FSU QB drafted by the Milwaukee Brewers

Also on the Twitter I ask the question:
Bigger coincidence: Pennsylvania winning 3 sports championships in the last year (Phillies, Steelers, and Penguins), or Central Florida (Orlando, Tampa) hosting the same amount (NBA Finals, Super Bowl, and World Series)?

Where are Carl Crawford's triples?

So I was looking at the Rays stats this year and outside of the regular abnormalities (Upton's low BA, Sonnanstine's ungodly ERA), I noticed something very strange. Carl Crawford had only 3 triples.

This from a guy who is one of the most prolific triple-hitters in baseball history. Since his rookie season Crawford has averaged 12 triples a year. That's one every 48.26 plate appearances. Yet so far in 2009, Crawford is averaging one triple every 88.67 plate appearances. At this rate, Crawford will end up with his lowest total since his first season.

My first thought was that perhaps he is sacrificing triples for the sake of stealing third. After all, Crawford leads baseball in stolen bases. Yet Crawford only has one steal of third following a double, April 30th against Boston.

Ok. What else could it be?

Here is a breakdown of Crawford's 11 doubles as of June 10th:

1) April 7th vs. Boston
Top of the 6th off Josh Beckett
Double to LF (Line Drive to Deep LF-CF); Iwamura to 3B

2) April 10th vs Baltimore
Top of the 1st off M. Hendrickson
Double to RF (Line Drive to Deep RF Line); Crawford out at 3B/RF-2B-3B

3) April 15th vs New York
Bottom of the 3rd off Andy Pettite
Double to CF (Line Drive to Deep CF-RF)

4) April 24th vs Oakland
Top of the 1st off Trevor Cahill
Double to LF (Line Drive to LF Line)

5) April 30th vs Boston
Bottom of the fourth off Josh Beckett
Double to LF (Line Drive) - Stole 3rd

6) May 8th vs Boston
Top of the 5th off Brad Penny
Ground-rule Double (Fly Ball to Deep CF-RF)

7) May 9th vs Boston
Top of the 6th off Hunter Jones
Double to LF (Fly Ball to Deep LF-CF); Upton to 3B

8) May 9th vs Boston
Top of the 7th off Javier Lopez
Double to LF (Fly Ball to Deep LF); Upton to 3B

9) May 12 vs Baltimore
Top of the 1st off Mark Hendrickson
Double to CF (Line Drive to Deep CF-RF)

10) May 12 vs Baltimore
Top of the 2nd off Mark Hendrickson
Double to LF (Line Drive to Deep LF Line)

11) May 24 vs Florida
Top of the 3rd off Josh Johnson
Double to LF (Fly Ball to Deep LF Line)

So what do we have?

- One steal of 3rd (April 30).
- One time Crawford was thrown out going for third (April 10).
- One ground rule double (May 8).
- Three times a runner was held up at third (April 7, May 9 (2)).
- Three were hit down the left field line, probably the hardest place to hit a triple (April 24, May 12 #2, May 24).

That's nine. Leaving us with two doubles that perhaps could have been turned into triples (April 15, May 12 #1).

April 15th vs New York
With 2 outs, Crawford hits a line drive to deep RF-CF, driving home BJ Upton.
Idea why he didn't try for a triple: following Crawford was new acquisition Pat Burrell. The Rays had tagged Pettite for two consecutive doubles. Maybe Crawford didn't want to make the 3rd out at third with the big free agent slugger coming up.

May 12th vs Baltimore
With one out, Crawford doubles to deep RF-CF.
Idea why he didn't try for a triple: Perhaps the arm strength of Orioles RF Nick Markakis? Maybe Orioles CF Adam Jones got to the ball quickly?

So after going through Crawford's doubles, we really still haven't found the reason he is behind on his average triples rate. Perhaps it is situational and he hasn't had many opportunities to fly around the bases. Perhaps he is being injury cautious. Or perhaps his line drive rate is down, or maybe he isn't getting the jump out of the batter's box like he used to.

Overall, like Rays victories, Crawford triples have unfortunately been too few. Here's hoping both increase in bunches as the season progresses.

Seminoles eliminated by another wrestling name

This weekend yet another Florida State sports team lost in a championship tournament. This time it was the always underachieving Seminole baseball team losing to the Arkansas Razorbacks in the College World Series qualifier. Another year, another missed championship for Coach Mike Martin, who has lead the team for over 30 years.

But I am not here to rant about the inability of Mike Martin. Instead, I'd like to point out what has become a very odd Seminole sports trend. It seems the last two teams to eliminate the Noles from championship contention had a player sharing a name with a professional wrestler.

First there was Dymond Simon of the Arizona State Sun Devils and her shared likeness former ECW wrestler Simon Diamond. Now the Noles were beaten by a player who's name brings to mind the legendary Blue World Order.

Arkansas pitcher Stephen Richards



ECW Superstar Steven Richards



Next season the Noles better not even think about playing a team featuring a David Smith, a Phillip Brooks, a Brian Adams, or a Scott Hall.

(Yes, I've probably watched too much pro wrestling. I blame the Rock'n'Wrestling Connection.)

All's quiet on the blogging front

Things were getting quite dusty around here. But never fear, I've been around. Proliferating the blogosphere with more Jordi-isms, as usual. Here are a few of the latest:

Over at Knicks blog Posting and Toasting, I wrote about what former Florida State guard Toney Douglas could do for the Knicks if they draft him in the upcoming NBA Draft.

Could Ghostface Douglas be a fit in NY?

Then over at my other usual stamping ground, Thunder Matt's Saloon, I've been covering the rise and emergence of Rays outfielder "Southern Thunder" Matt Joyce. He is quickly becoming a legend among men.

Southern Thunder Repels Royal LOOGY

I am also working on some other projects across the 'net. You will find out in due time.