Clutch 08-2016: An Odd Tribute to an Old Friend

Clutch grew up at Shea Stadium, literally.  He has a relative who from 1976-89 headed up plumbing maintenance at the stadium. Doesn’t sound like a glamorous job, but from the perspective of a seven year old kid he had the best job in the world. How? Unlimited access to Met games…for FREE! This relative would take little Clutch with him to work on the weekends, of course only when the Metropolitans were in town.

From there launched several years of just great times. The backdrop to these fabulous years, at least the first eight, was a team that finished in last place just about every season. It wasn’t just a casual finish in last, the Mets did it in style – not cracking 70 wins in all those seasons. It got to a point where it was just assumed and the fans were institutionalized.  Kid Clutch experienced many fun, odd, unknown to the public and flat out crazy things during a period where he and everyone else patiently waited for the Calvary to arrive. As we all know they eventually did in the form of some skilled farm hands and key trades and signings.

Eventually hanging out at Shea turned into working at Shea once age minimums were met. These were some even better times as roaming around the inner workings of that haunted house now didn’t require adult supervision. It was also a better time as the team was now winning. More warm bodies in the stands and less leaving in the 8^th inning with a frown. By this time knowledge of every nook and cranny of the place was at Clutch’s fingertips. It was a good to know, until many moons later when Clutch had long separated from his best friend and someone decided to hit the place over the head with a sledgehammer. All that remains are memories and a concrete jungle where fans park their cars.

Let’s start things off with a bang, or a back kick in this matter. This is clearly the oddest, strangest and likely most unbelievable factoid about Shea Stadium.  In around 1979 on a dog day of summer mini Clutch was brought deep under the bowels of the Stadium. It’s where they stored all the big bulky equipment, had the indoor hitting cages and the like. It was a dark, unfinished and unkempt place that nobody outside of players and staff would ever see. Over in the far corner was something that was moving around and making noise. Approaching it slowly, it eventually was clear. There was a donkey living at and under Shea. One would wish this was made up like a Sid Finch sighting, but it was true.

For 36 years this was a bottom of mind mystery. The why and how a mule resided at the stadium was unsolved. Literally today with the help of Larry and Sergey that the answer was obtained. It took all but 15 seconds researching. His name was Mettle (pronounced “Met” – “Al”) and the Ass was the team mascot for that one year before being retired. It was the idea of the daughter of the owner at the time and was just one of many failures to come. Find it hard to believe? Imagine seeing it in person. Still not convinced? Spend the same 15 seconds on your own. Next time you are going to do an Internet search, type in “Shea Stadium Mettle” instead of your possible usual “Richard Simmons in shorts” and see what comes up.

The next Ripley type event some may think is evenly as odd, though the younger you are the more the scale will lean towards the strange. That’s because this type of event was a little more commonplace back in the day and something you would never see today. First off, it was a scheduled doubleheader, which in itself is odd and has been previously discussed. It’s the in-between games entertainment where things took an unusual turn. Yup, you guessed it. It was a charity softball game with the Met’s wives locking horns with the cast of “Happy Days”. Similar to the mule, you can’t make this stuff up.

Deep in the Clutch archives are actual photographic evidence of the game. The pics were not taken on an old iPhone, but likely a Kodak 110 with flash cubes and real film. If memory serves correctly, The Fonz pitched, sans his leather jacket, while a non-bald Richie Cunningham played a flawless left-field. Similar to the show, Chuck was there for the first inning, and then mysteriously disappeared. It was like he never existed. In this day and age you would never see such an activity. This is partly because cast member comradery, like the desire to play two and charge for one, no longer exists. Also, with free agency, trades and contract opt-outs, players aren’t together long enough for their wives to get to know each other, let alone form a softball team. 

There was one entrance and one exit that are worth mentioning in the same breath as oddness. Let’s start with the entrance that happened during hands down the best comeback in baseball history. We all know it simply as “Game 6”. Teenage Clutch was there and has the torn and stained ticket stub to prove it, unlike 82,000 others who claimed to have been in a stadium with capacity of around half that. Sitting in the lodge level about 20 rows back meant a good view of the field, protection from the rain but not much of a view “above” that. All of a sudden everyone upfront starts looking up. Was it a bird? Was it a plane? Was it Superman? No. It was some botchagalupe parachuting onto the field. It was the strangest thing ever seen on a baseball field until a few innings later when the Met’s mounted a comeback for the ages.

As far as exits go, this one is not anywhere near as entertaining or notable as the entrance. Long story short, a man, likely up on hard times, decided to commit suicide at Shea Stadium before the start of a day game. He jumped from the upper deck towards the outside perimeter of the stadium. A jump that of course lead to instant death and stains on the floor below.  Perhaps the only odd or interesting, and mostly unknown to the public, factoid here is the pronunciation of death. The medics had to use a large spatula to scrape the remains off the concrete. Yet, they drove him away in an ambulance and claimed the place of death was the left lane of the Grand Central Parkway. Yup, a death on stadium property was not good press. Disney and other happy places do the same thing.

There’s many more tales to tell, yarns to unwind and Shea Stadium secrets to unlock and reveal. But, the ones above are enough for now, and probably the most oddness one can tolerate in a single serving. Plus, at the rate these snippets are going then next one would probably involves Big Foot or Laverne. In the meantime, Mr. Clutch bids a belated farewell to his best childhood friend.

Clutch 07-2016: Loopholes

In one of Mr. Clutch’s favorite movies “The Firm”, Avery Tolar, played by the great Gene Hackman talks to a young Mitch McDeere, one of Tom Cruise’s breakout roles, about the difference between tax avoidance and tax evasion.  Long story short, the answer is that the difference is breaking the law versus bending it. In the game of baseball, the difference is outright cheating versus a loophole, or legal move.

Let’s quickly hit upon the cheating part, since it’s not the focus of this discussion. Player cheating is things like pine tar on a bat, spit on a ball, and of most recent notoriety the use of performance enhancing drugs. And of course there is some more off the field corporate espionage things like hacking into a competing teams computer,  videotaping their practice, or like in that infamous Brady Bunch episode – stealing the playbook.

The items above are clear cases of industry standard cheating. Then there is the grey area, where it’s questionable if an action is breaking the rule or bending it. For example, picking up on another teams signs from the dugout or third base coach is just being observant.  To quote the late great Master John Kuhl, Mr. Clutch’s sensei and one of the toughest guys to walk earth, “Steal with your eyes”. Of course he meant is as one entered battle and you can pick up body language signals from your opponent.  Stealing signs in baseball is grey area probably leaning towards cheating, but not fully.

One of the specific “Loopholes” that is disliked by Clutch camp is the simple “Intentional Walk”. It seems more like a strategy than a loophole, but when you really look at it – it changes the game in various ways. It is certainly tax avoidance and not evasion relating it back to legal accounting and would approved by the office of Bendini, Lambert & Locke.

Now, this is not to be confused with pitching “Around” a hitter or the “Non-intentional intentional walk, with definitely should be viewed as 100% strategy moves. Trying to get a hitter to chase balls not in his wheelhouse is part of the game. Not giving a hitter anything to hit, and forcing him to accept a walk or chase balls out of the strike zone is also strategy. It’s the blatant refusing to face a hitter where the waters get muddled. 

Let these stats soak in for a moment before we continue. The year was 2004 and the player is Barry Bonds. The fact that he himself was a cheat is ironic and not the point.  Barry was intentionally walked 120 times that season.  That’s one in every five plate appearances. That’s 20% less chances to hit a home run.  He was often intentionally walked with nobody on base! That’s crazy-town. In one game Barry was intentionally walked four times. He was effectively taken out of the game.

Bonds hit 45 home runs and knocked in 101 that year in basically a half of season. Editor’s note: Bonds walked a total of 232 times that year. 112 of them were not intentional, at least as far as we know.  The Clutch stat gurus have figured out that removing the intentional walk and assuming that a percentage of the non-intentional walks actually were, that Bonds would have had 18 more dingers and around 40 more RBI.  Why is this important you ask?

Let’s see – where do we start? That year the Giants (Bonds’ team) finished two games out of first behind the Dodgers and a measly one game behind the wildcard Astros. Yup, the Giants just missed making the playoffs both ways.  The Giants played the Dodgers 19 times that season, going 9-10. If they instead go 10-9, that puts Holly wood and San Fran in a dead heat tie. Similarly, The Giants went 4-2 versus the Astros that year. Reverse just one of those results – and guess what? The Giants are the wildcard.  As you may have guessed, Bonds was IBB’d in each of the losses versus the Astros.  He was also intentionally walked in just about every Dodger win over the Giants that year, including four (4) times in a 5-4 Dodger win back in April.

I think you catch the drift. The intentional walk very likely affected the 2004 MLB playoffs. It’s probably all for the better as there was the year that Red Sox came from three games down to defeat the Yankees, and then made mincemeat of the Cardinals with a four game sweep. History could have been different if the game was just played straight up.

From a personal statistic and records perspective – guess what would have been in 2004 without the intentional walk? That’s right, the first “Triple Crown” winner since Yaz back in 1967. With the probable added stats, Bonds would have finished 15 HRs ahead of Adrian Beltre instead of three behind. He also would have ended up 10 RBI ahead of Rockies Vinny Castilla. Bonds led the league in hitting that year at .362, 15 points ahead of Todd Helton and the Colorado air.

It’s known that the intentional walk is strategy used to win games. Of course all Met fans remember how that backfired in the playoffs back in 1999.  Afraid to face Chipper “Larry” Jones, the Mets manager called for an intentional walks to load the bases. Keep in mind this was after issuing the same directive to the previous batter Brian Jordan. Fry Chicken man and Gambler Kenny Rogers (Actually no relation to either) then proceeded to accidentally walk the next guy, which ended the game and the Mets World Series hopes.

The intentional walk is legal. It’s allowed and it’s never really been frowned upon as a move. One could say that it has its place in the game, and maybe it’s the deep minority that thinks otherwise.  Personally, Mr. Clutch disagrees and believes the IBB puts shade over the pureness of the game. You want to win? Face your fears.  Don’t believe me? Ask Bobby Valentine.

Clutch 06-2016: Time Out

From a scheduling perspective Major League Baseball is brutal, I’ll give you that. Teams play non-stop six days a week from around April fool’s day until the beginning of autumn and beyond for those lucky enough to make the playoffs. That’s a long run for anybody. And don’t forget that spring training, though typically “Light” work backs the start of the schedule up to Valentine’s Day.

Players, coaches and staff are typically separated from their family and friends for two-thirds of the year. Imagine the morning of packing your lunch box, grabbing your brief case, kissing your wife and kids goodbye and instead of saying “See you for dinner”, it’s more like “Have a great spring and summer”. The life is not for everyone that’s for sure, though for most in the profession it’s all they know.

Some players, like Clutch acquaintance A.J. Burnett, couldn’t wait to retire and totally leave the game behind. A.J. threw his last pitch down the playoff stretch last season, and now spends his days fishing and taking his young kids to/from school and activities. Sure he’ll get bored of that at some point, and he still has a long life to live, way longer than most “Retirees”, but I’m sure he’ll find something to do that doesn’t involve an eight month road trip.

Others, like the stereotypical coach with the grey hair, beer gut and waddle-type walk can’t leave the game, or really what has become a lifestyle.  Some started in their teens and now have 40+ years under the belt of the baseball circuit. Enough miles to book a free trip to Mars, and enough missed weddings and funerals to fill a shoebox of lost memories. Though these guys are continuing to do what they love, the fact of the matter is that they are likely institutionalized. They don’t know another way, and can’t imagine not waking up in a Ramada Inn with a complimentary USA Today, day-old pastries and concentrated OJ out of machine for breakfast, and alas the smell of freshly cut grass and the sounds of batting practice a few short hours away. Just look up the character Brooks from “The Shawshank Redemption” if you don’t know what I mean.

OK, before we start feeling really bad for these people, let’s remember a couple of things. For starters, most of them are incredibly wealthy and own homes larger than the Governor’s mansion in their home state. They have cars, toys, cars that are like toys and the works. The financial future of their family and families family is secured and on and on. Oh, and one more thing...They get paid to play a kids game.  That’s right; the thing we did for free growing up now pays the bills. Does anyone recall doing what they do now when they were nine years old and loving it?

Anyhow, the discussion point here is actually around the concept of the player day off.  Though it’s understood that the older a player gets, the more the body and stamina abilities break down, the need for a day off in baseball just seems odd. The fact that a finely tuned athlete needs a day to recover from playing a game, or “Working” doesn’t seem like a far-fetched request, but it kind of is when you break down how hard these guys actually work on a day in and day out basis.

Again, and before getting into the numbers, the equator style line graph of age versus abilities is out there. The natural breakdown over time is understood. But, to give an example at the early end of that spectrum, Mr. Clutch was (and somewhat still could be today) a star softball player back in the day. I’m talking top-notch talent here, and yes I know that comparing the major leagues to slow-pitch softball is like comparing playing in the Masters to miniature golf. That said, Clutch in his heyday would play a Sunday morning 8am doubleheader in a Brooklyn hard-top league, and then play a late afternoon doubleheader in an all Jewish dirt league (and you got it, our first baseman was names Ira). In between would be around three-hours of non-stop wifflle-ball in the blazing sun. All of this was done without breaking a sweat or pulling a hammy.

OK – back to the life of a major league everyday position player. Let’s take a left-fielder and an average game time of three hours for the purpose of this example. We’ll also assume that in an average game, half the time is spent in the field, and half at bat. Lastly, we will assume that the player in question is a “Good” player, meaning he gets on base fairly regularly and catches most balls that come his way.

Let’s start with the field. That player will likely have 10 to 15 balls hit to him in a game. This includes flyouts, base hits he needs to retrieve, backing up the center fielder, etc. A “Play” typically takes 30 seconds from crack of the bat to back into position.  That’s seven and half minutes of “Work”, which we will round up to eight, and 82 minutes of standing around doing nothing.

On offense, a player is likely to bat five times in a game, and that’s pretty generous.  Two minutes per at bat, with on an average day that player reaches base twice, also generous values. Time running  the bases can vary, including standing on the any base, but the math says it’s around six minutes. Tally all that up and in an average game, a player will be “Working” offensively for around 22 minutes a game. The rest of the time is spent sitting down eating sunflower seeds and high-fiving coworkers.

Math, which never lies, states that a major league player “Works” for around 30 minutes or a half an hour a day.  Not a bad gig if you can get it, and certainly why the “Scheduled day off” is a bit of a joke. I’m sure the average Joe working as an accountant would like this benefit. Work a little harder than normal on a Tuesday and your manager decides to rest you on Wednesday so you’re fresh the next day. Primidonnas.  

Clutch 05-2016: Show Me The Money

It seemed like just yesterday that MLB players all had off-season jobs to help make ends meet. Mr. Clutch remembers hearing about star players who worked construction, sold cars or had some other “day” job in the winter. Today, the only work players do when it gets cold is sit around counting their money, or spending it.

The Clutch AV department uncovered a great ESPN piece that aired recently. It turns out that NBA legend Wilt Chamberlin was a bellhop up in the Catskills in-between NBA seasons.  It’s as true as it is weird. There are similar cases like this today, but for different reasons. For example, former NBA star Vin Baker now works at Starbucks. The difference? He blew though $100 million in salary. To Wilt’s credit, he probably made in his entire career what Vince made in a heyday year.

Here’s the problem with today’s athlete, specifically baseball, astronomical salaries…it’s in direct correlation to the prices of a ticket, hotdog, banner and the infamous $10 Yankee stadium hot chocolate. Yup, a little choco-powder and hot tap water in a cup for the low low price of $10. A slight reason for this is that the stadiums have a monopoly on the sale of food and drink. The main reason is that they need to recoup the bloated salaries the teams are playing their employees. They need to sell 3,300,000 hot chocolates to pay A-Roid for one season.

When Aliens stop by our planet from time to time they must be astounded and shocked that an under-performing starting pitcher who works 40 days a year gets paid 100x or more what policeman, teacher or someone doing an actual real job makes. They probably laugh at us, just like we laugh at them for constantly wearing the drab grey jumpsuits and the white boots (after Labor Day).  It really is a joke and just another example of how this world is upside down.

Your average Joe and his family can likely still afford to attend a live MLB game, but probably has to cut back on the number of games attending, sit closer to God and of course budget the junk food and low quality souvenirs. Oh, and don’t forget some of the other money grabs like $30+ to park a car. Bargain parking could be had for $20 if you’re willing to rack up 5,000+ steps on your Fitbit. Hey, I guess that’s a plus for a minus!

Want to stay home and watch the game on TV? With the evolution of screen quality from the 25” Zenith tube to the 60” LED HD 3D, this was briefly a good option that in some respects was a clearer view than being there. The problem now though is the inundation of annoying advertising. I understand I’m technically watching the game for free. I say technically, because most games are on pay cable TV now, unlike those Zenith days of the Mets on WOR-9 and the Yankees on WPIX-11. It’s pay to play now.

Let’s forget about the regular commercials in-between innings. The reason is that with the clicker you can change the channel and switch over to another show, or simply get up and make a sandwich. The advertising found most annoying is the unavoidable. The 15^th pitch is brought to you by an insurance company; the call to the bullpen is brought to you by a communication firm and a manager trip to the mound is sponsored in part by a vacation website.  Names thrown in your face all night long so the 25^th man at the end of bench could make a million or more dollars this year for watching the same game you are.

If Kid Clutch wanted to get a ballplayers autograph back in the day, it was done one of many FREE ways. Get to the ballpark early and hang down one of the baselines during batting practice or mill around the player’s stadium exit after the game. A player walks over, you hand him a pen and paper, then he signs it. It was easy Pease and gratis. Now, getting the same result usually involves outbidding someone on eBay or buying it at the local malls collectible store. In addition to it costing big money, it’s likely a fake since you don't witness the event.


The Clutch-Advice, which will never ever happen, is to go back to the old-school wages with adjustments for inflation.  Men should be paid nominal wages to play a kids game. Then we pass that savings down to the hard working ones looking for a break from the rat race and a little head-clearing entertainment. Until then the Aliens win.