#I saw droughts before but two years in a row gets bad
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2023 Fic Masterlist
Happy New Year! It was my first full year of writing "The West Wing" fanfic and I loved every minute of it. Aaron Sorkin's work has me by the throat... so behold: the fic round-up for the year.
Works in Progress (WIPs)
An Idea, Whose Time has Come (3/20 chapters posted) - "Could always run for President."
It’s been twenty years since CJ Cregg joined Jed Bartlet’s campaign, and with another election looming, Danny makes a suggestion: CJ should run for President.
So she does.
And on the campaign trail, along with a new staff, a hostile incumbent, and a familiar rival candidate, CJ also has to grapple with the legacy and impact of her twenty years in public service – good, bad, and ugly – while preparing for the most important election of her career.
CJ/Danny, presidential campaign shenanigans. also side Josh/Donna, Will/Kate, lots of original characters. Some smut. 14k so far. (A present for my dear friend miabicicletta 💜)
CJ/Danny
None of Us are More Than Caretakers (12 chapters) - “The president’s dead.”
Three weeks before Inauguration, things appear to be running smoothly.
Transition is going (mostly) well, Kazakhstan is (mostly) stable, and CJ is (mostly) happy with how things are going with Danny.
Everything is taken care of.
And then former president Gerald Ford dies.
Set between "The Last Hurrah" and "Institutional Memory". 66k.
Off the Record (22 chapters) - “And this… thing… would be…?”
“Off the record.”
(Or, one missing scene per episode).
Season 1 missing scenes. 31k.
A Night to Watch - “So how does it feel, watching yourself become unemployed in real time?”
Tag to Election Day Parts I & II. 6k.
Fallout - It’s only been a few hours, but already the dinner with Danny feels like it was an entire lifetime ago.
Tag to "Duck and Cover." 3.1k.
our secret moments (in a crowded room) - Secret Dating. Tag to "Drought Conditions". Written for the twwpress Wheel of Destiny 500 word Drabble Challenge. 500 words.
The Fall - “What do you want, Danny?”
“Saw you on C-SPAN this morning, Sundance. Wanted to see how you were handling the rise to power.”
“You mean you wanted to see if the fall killed me.”
Tag to "Liftoff." Butch & Sundance Part II. 2.6k
You're Gonna Die Bloody (and All You Can Do is Choose Where) - The hearings will turn over every rock in her life, every email, every phone call – and of course they’ll see Danny’s name – but she can’t drag him down any further.
Tag to "The Ticket", "The Mommy Problem", "Mr. Frost"/"Here Today". Butch & Sundance Part III. 2.7k
Fight or Give - Glory days are over.
Nothing left but the ending – nothing left but the fall.
Tag to "Internal Displacement", "Requiem", "Institutional Memory". Butch & Sundance Part IV. 2k.
The Goal for Which We Long - And then she notices the note left in the middle of her desk.
Not a note, really, but one of the dignitary bingo cards she’d passed out – the one she’d given Josh by the looks of it – with the middle row filled in.
She wonders why Josh would leave it there, before noticing the handwriting along the top.
Tag to "The Wedding". 5k.
Other/Gen
The Day on Which They Shall Give Their Votes - Election Day, 1998.
As the votes come in, the staff of Bartlet for America waits with one question in mind:
Who will be the next President?
Pre-Canon. Gen. 3.3k.
When it Rains, it Pours - Or, what happens in the motel after they get out of the rain?
Well, wet clothing mostly.
Josh/Donna. Tag to "20 Hours in America" Parts I and II. Written for the "Woulda Coulda Shoulda: a Fest to Get Josh and Donna Together" challenge. 2.6k.
Two for the Road - “It was a tough race.”
“They’re all tough races.”
Or, doing the same thing multiple time and expecting different results (1992-2018).
CJ & Toby friendship fic. Gen. 5.3k.
#the west wing#tww#cj x danny#josh x donna#cj cregg#danny concannon#and the whole cast and crew.#PLUS one more that i will be sharing tomorrow... written for an anonymous holiday exchange ;)
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dizzy on the comedown (Keith/Pidge)
Title: dizzy on the comedown
Summary: But it was molting season: time to trade the old feathers for new wings. / Keith, Katie, and the light of a small town moon.
A/N: Written for the @kidgezine!
Read and review here or continue under the cut.
o.O.o
At this point in his life, Keith had two things going for him. Graduation, and—
Okay, well. Maybe just the one.
Above Mrs. Finkle’s head, the clock crept at a snail’s pace. Time moved slowly enough in Arus already—call it the universal law of small towns—but detention, Keith hypothesized, was where it froze in cryogenic sleep. If not for the one other student sitting two rows behind him and to the left, Keith could have convinced himself he was in bed at home, dreaming.
That was how most days felt, in the midst of senior spring. Like he could just float in and out of them until summer, when he’d be gone for good. As far as cities went, Altea hardly had the glitz and glamor of somewhere like New York, but its population of 100,000 was massive compared to Arus’s 1,800, and for that, Keith couldn’t wait.
In the meantime, though, he saved up his money and cut class. Which had been working just fine until he’d dropped by to grab an assignment and Iverson had spotted him, hightailed it down the corridor, and grabbed Keith by the scruff of his jean jacket before he could get away.
Dragging his attention away from the minute hand, Keith went back to fiddling with the radio on his desk. It was his mom’s, a vintage dark beige beauty that had started glitching last week. Despite not being much of a repairman, Keith hoped to fix it in time for her birthday this weekend. Mrs. Finkle ignored him, tongue darting out to wet her finger as she flipped another page of her book.
Keith messed with a wire and turned the dial. Nothing but static at first, but slowly the faint strains of music overcame the crackle. Keith smiled, stopping short when a ball of paper hit the back of his head.
He turned around. His detention-mate stared back at him with a steady gaze, hazelnut brown hair bundled in two messy braids. Katie Holt, sophomore. One older brother, Matt, who’d graduated last year. Her dad was an astrophysics professor while her mom bounced between running the local library and volunteering at the observatory up in the hills. Keith knew all these facts through no extra effort of his own, the same way everyone knew that his dad had died putting out the fire on Mr. McComb’s farm back in 2008.
What he didn’t know was why Katie was in detention. She didn’t exactly seem like the rabble-rousing type. Then again, maybe the fact that she looked so unassuming was exactly what made her trouble.
Impatiently, Katie jerked her head toward the crumpled ball behind him. Frowning, Keith swiveled in his chair and scooped it up, flattening it on his desk.
Nice, read the note.
Meaning the radio, probably. He glanced back at Katie and raised a single eyebrow in acknowledgement. At the front of the classroom, Mrs. Finkle’s chair scraped backwards as she stood up.
Though it took 30 seconds for her to leave the room and turn the corner toward the bathrooms, it felt like a year. Once she’d left, Keith put the radio in his backpack and swung it over his shoulder. He didn’t know Katie well enough to say anything meaningful out loud, but he granted her a brief nod of acknowledgement before turning his back.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving.” He poked his head out into the hallway to make sure no one was around. The agreement with Mrs. Finkle was simple: as long as nobody saw him busting out, she could plead innocence, and they could both move on with their respective afternoons.
“Isn’t skipping detention just going to get you… more detention?”
At that, Keith turned to lean against the doorframe. Katie had moved to stand beside him, hands curled around the straps of her backpack.
“Trust me, I do it all the time.”
“In that case...” Katie tilted her head. “Lead the way.”
Katie Holt had a bossy streak, apparently. Without further conversation, Keith started down the hallway.
“Do you have some sort of secret arrangement with Mrs. Finkle?” asked Katie, hot on his heels.
“No, she just doesn’t care. I got top marks on all the state evals, and I pretty much carry the class average.” Keith didn’t say it to brag; he’d overheard Mrs. Finkle use the exact same reasoning in an argument with Iverson once. “Besides, detention wastes her time just as much as it wastes ours— hey. ”
Katie had grabbed his forearm, yanking him to the right.
“Coach Sendak always gets his coffee in the break room around this time,” she hissed. “I thought you said you did this a lot.”
“No need to be critical,” grumbled Keith.
They’d finally reached the parking lot. His red pickup truck, shabby as it was, beckoned like a jewel. Before he could head in its direction, though, he made the mistake of glancing over at Katie. She looked on the brink of asking him something, the determination on her face surprisingly imposing considering her stature.
Exhaling, Keith ran a hand through his hair. “What?”
Just as quickly, Katie’s expression transitioned to innocence. “What?”
He leveled her with a look that read, clearly: I don't have time for this. “What are you about to ask?”
She shifted. “I need a ride home. 23rd and Walnut.”
“That’s four traffic lights past Greasy Sal’s, right?”
“Yeah.”
“All right, fine.” Keith gestured for her to walk with him. At his truck, he pulled open the driver’s door, tossing his bag into the backseat. “Get in.”
o.O.o
“Dammit.” For the third time, Katie jiggled the door handle, rapping on the door. “Nobody’s home.”
“Window?” suggested Keith.
Katie shot him a flat look. “I’m not breaking into my own house.”
“Okay, then…” Keith crossed his arms. The Holts’ porch was small, painted gray while the rest of the house was white. A bristly brown welcome mat printed with a cactus laid in front of the screen door; cacti seemed to be a recurring motif, if the several growing in the yard were anything to go by.
He took a deep breath.
“Listen, I’ve got a paper route that starts in fifteen minutes. So either you stay here, or you come with. But I’m leaving.”
“Gee, you’re really selling the appeal of your company,” said Katie. “I’m in.”
It took Keith a second to process, during which Katie sailed past him and back to his car. “You’re—what?”
“I’m in.” Opening the passenger side door, she clambered inside. “Come on—I don’t want to be blamed for you being late.”
o.O.o
As far as newspapers went, the Arus Gazette would hardly win any awards for its journalism. But much like playing in the Little League or driving to nearby Olkari Springs for Labor Day Weekend, subscription to it was time-honored tradition, a given if you’d grown up in town.
“How long does it usually take you to deliver all these?” Katie asked, pushing aside a newspaper tube that had encroached on the space between them.
“Two hours. If you’re trying to get homework done, you could probably just use the dashboard as a desk.”
Shaking her head, Katie leaned back in the seat. “Nah, I get carsick.”
“Suit yourself,” answered Keith, just as the traffic light ahead of them blinked sleepily from yellow to red. The foot he put down on the brake pedal felt like a dampener on the mood in the car; in the silence, Katie turned away from him to stare out the window, her fingers laced in her lap. It was weird. Usually, Keith cared little about forcing conversation. He hadn’t promised he’d entertain her for tagging along on his errand run. Still…
“How’d you get thrown in detention?”
Katie turned toward him, blinking in surprise. “You really want to know?”
Keith shrugged. “Might as well.”
“Hm.” The seatbelt shifted as Katie wriggled around to face him fully. “You know Lance, right?”
“Yeah.” Former Little League rival and youngest child of the McClains, who ran the only Cuban restaurant in town. “What about him?”
“So, basically I rigged the water fountain outside Mrs. Sanda’s classroom to spray in his face, which didn’t go over so well because—” Here, she adopted a high-pitched, nasal tone, “—‘we’re in the middle of a drought!’”
Keith cracked a smile. “Was it worth it?”
“100%. So what’s your deal? Is all the delinquency just a bad case of senioritis?”
“Detention doesn’t make me a delinquent.”
“At its broadest definition, delinquency means misbehavior, and I’d say playing hooky counts.”
“You’re kind of a smartass,” Keith observed.
Katie remained unfazed. “I’ve gotta be, if I ever want to get out of here.”
At that, Keith’s ears perked. Very few people broke beyond Arus’s event horizon. For most travelers, it was a pit stop, but once you settled, you stayed. That was what had happened to his mom: she’d been passing through on her way to a motorcycling convention when her bike had broken down. Keith’s dad arrived to save the day. Three months later, they’d married in the town courthouse, a September wedding, escorted home by a fleet of men and women in leather jackets—members of Mom’s former motorcycle club, the Blades.
“Where to?”
“East coast,” said Katie. “Or maybe Midwest. As long as it’s somewhere cold. I want to see snow.”
“These desert nights aren’t cold enough for you?”
“It’s not the same. What about you? Everyone knows you’re ditching for Altea.”
“Yeah. They’ve got the nearest police academy.”
Katie’s eyes brightened. She had an uncanny way of looking at him, as if he were a gadget she wanted to figure out the innermost workings of. “You’re going to be a police officer?”
Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, Keith quirked an eyebrow. “If this is the setup for another joke about me being a delinquent…”
Katie pouted. “I’m more creative than that.”
“Good to know. Can you pass me one of the newspapers?”
Obliging, Katie handed him a tube as he rolled down the driver’s side window. With a flick of the wrist, Keith sent the bundle arcing through the air. It landed with a satisfying splat on the front porch, right up against the door. Beside him, Katie whistled.
“Twenty points if you can get it to land directly on the welcome mat,” said Keith, reaching behind him to grab another roll. He held it out between them in challenge.
Katie’s eyes sparked. “You’re on.”
What Keith knew about Katie Holt: she liked a good prank, she wanted out of Arus, and when she grinned, a dimple appeared high on her right cheek. And now he also knew the curve of her shoulder underneath her green flannel, a corded strength only hinted at before, when she’d grabbed him in the hallway. Katie had a wicked strong arm for somebody so small.
“I used to pitch for my brother,” explained Katie, her slight smirk a sign that she’d caught him noticing.
Two could play ball. “In that case,” said Keith, letting their fingers touch this time as he passed her another newspaper, “Batter up.”
o.O.o
The pink and blue of Coran’s Convenience shone invitingly against the night sky as Keith pulled into the parking lot. Wasting no time in unbuckling her seatbelt, Katie leaped out of the car, leaning against the ice machine as she waited for him to catch up.
It didn’t feel like they’d spent the last eight hours together; in fact, Keith was almost reluctant to see the end. They’d made a game of the rest of his paper route, competing to see who could throw faster or with more accuracy. Afterwards, dinner at Flo’s Diner, where between the two of them they’d devoured a healthy serving of chili cheese fries, crispy fish sliders, and apple pie. And now, to close the night, Slurpees from Coran’s.
Coran was Arus’s resident redhead and town gossip. Like a homing beacon, his head whipped toward the entrance when the bell overhead jingled. Somewhat protectively, Keith steered Katie so that the chip aisle obscured them from view as they headed toward the back, where the white lemon, blue raspberry, and cherry ice churned in their respective containers.
Halfway through filling his cup with cherry, Keith was interrupted.
“You’re doing it wrong,” said Katie, taking over. “The trick is to layer all the flavors.”
Keith took the package of Twizzlers she thrust at him, watching Katie top off the Slurpee’s blue raspberry layer with practiced precision.
“You’re a sick little genius, but I’ll take it.”
“Watch who you’re calling little,” she warned. “Corn Pops?”
Keith made a face. “Pass.”
“All right.”
At the cash register, Coran rang up their total with a twinkle in his eye. “How’s your mom doing, Keith?”
Reaching for his wallet, Keith shrugged. “She’s fine.”
“Gonna miss you when you leave for Altea, I bet.”
“I’m not disappearing off the grid, just moving. I’ll visit.”
“Mhmm. And what about you, Little Holt?” teased Coran. “Running around with this one now that Matt’s gone—I hope he hasn’t gotten you into any trouble.”
“We met in detention, actually,” said Keith, finally done counting his change. “Here. $5.79.”
Sensing Keith was a dead end, Coran swept the bills and coins into his hand and redirected his wiles toward Katie with more vigor.
“Trade that story for a Slim Jim.”
“Two Slim Jims and a pack of Mentos,” Katie countered.
Coran laughed, running a thumb over his mustache. “Deal.”
After laying the negotiated items on the counter, Coran leaned over to let Katie whisper in his ear. Meanwhile, Keith sipped the Slurpee, shivering slightly as the cold rushed to his head. Coran’s grin had pulled higher; Keith narrowed his eyes at Katie, wondering what she’d just said.
Once they’d escaped Coran’s gleeful “Stay safe, kids!” he had a chance to ask.
“What’d you tell him?”
“Something much more exciting than the truth,” grinned Katie, stashing their additional haul of Slim Jims and Mentos in the cup holder. “So, where to next?”
In the eerie white-blue lights of the gas station, her lips shone. She hadn’t redone her braids since the afternoon, and the wispy tangles framed her face, giving her a wild softness. It suddenly seemed impossible that Keith had lived all this time at Arus without casting her anything more than a second glance.
He braced a hand on the back of her headrest, getting ready to reverse. “I know a place.”
o.O.o
Keith’s boots clanged heavily as he climbed onto the bed of his truck. Katie had already spread out the blankets; she reclined on them now, elbows jutting out on either side of her head like two bony bird wings.
The cold desert air, combined with the condensation from the Slurpee, numbed Keith’s fingers. When he hit the lemon layer, his nose wrinkled. Wordlessly, he passed the cup to Katie, who accepted with a gleeful look that let him know this had probably been her plan all along.
“Do you do this often?” she asked.
Keith followed her gaze to where the roads out of Arus dissolved into black ribbons through the dry brush. Every so often, a car’s headlight appeared. In the distance, you could just barely make out the lights of another town, but it was mostly cactus and mountains and big desert sky.
“Yeah. My dad used to drive me out here whenever I needed to blow off steam.” He rested his chin on his knees, staring at the horizon line.
A rustle. Katie sat up beside him. “Was it in this car?”
Keith smiled. “Yeah.”
“That explains why the engine sounds so clunky then. You’ve had it for forever.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Keith watched her. The starlight seemed to catch on her freckles, making them glimmer. He wanted to ask if she believed in ghosts. Not the evil, vindictive kind, but the restless sort. The type that might possess you to drive to the outskirts of town and sit in that liminal space between everything you’d known and everything you wanted to be.
“What’s your favorite constellation?” asked Katie, breaking his reverie.
“Aquila,” Keith answered readily. “I like how bright it gets in the summer. And I’ve always liked birds of prey.”
“Poetic.”
“Stars are the only thing I’ll miss about this place, probably.” Even as he said it, though, he knew it wasn’t true; there was the belltower and the trailer park and the way the sunrise seemed to set the grass on fire, and the dark, quiet corner of Mo’s where if you pressed your ear to the wall you could feel the vibrations from the band practicing in the basement. But it was molting season: time to trade in the old feathers for new wings.
“Well, that sucks,” Katie said. “Because even though we just started hanging out… I think I’ll miss you.”
Behind her head, the moon peeked out like an angel’s halo. Messy, he thought—about Katie’s hair, about this, starting something only to leave it behind, but. I’m not disappearing off the grid, just moving. I’ll visit.
Gently, he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Katie’s ear. This new call was softer, more fragile than the one drawing him away from Arus, but it thud in his chest all the same.
“There’s room to add other things to the list,” he said, tugging her closer, or maybe she pulled him—either way, their mouths met in the middle, Katie’s hand curling around the flannel of his shirt, both a departure and an arrival, all at once. The glare from a passing headlight infiltrated the corner of his vision; instinctively, Keith turned away from it, nestling his face in the side of Katie’s head. Her hair smelled like a tangle of all the places they’d been today, hamburger grease mingled with desert air and notes of coconut.
“You’re trouble, Keith Kogane,” said Katie. She wrinkled her nose when she said it, and Keith was almost embarrassed by how fond he was of the gesture, already. It crackled in his chest, like a radio picking up a signal after hours of silence.
“So are you.”
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Sowing and Reaping
This sermon was delivered to the Unitarian Universalist Church of Silver Spring by Rev. Lyn Cox on August 5, 2018. In it, we explore covenant, the Pagan holiday of Lammas, and the wisdom of Ms. Frizzle. This worship services launches a one-year interim ministry.
Blessed is the earth, which brings forth food for all that lives. Blessed is the rain, flowing with the water of life. Blessed is the sun, which calls to grow and which speeds our return to the earth. Blessed is the wind that carries the seed and the mist, the warm and the cool, the new and the returned. May we collaborate with and give thanks for the forces that create and uphold life. Blessed be.
I am a clueless gardener. It might be a little bit of an overstatement to say I like gardening. It might be more accurate to say that I find gardening fulfilling, even though I don’t exactly know what I’m doing. I learn spiritual lessons from gardening, mainly about how I am not in control of the universe. Perhaps because I needed to learn that lesson now more than ever, I made an ambitious plan for this year’s garden. Starting in February, I made lists of plants and I used graph paper to map out how I hoped the garden would look.
Around May 1, my kids and my partner came home from a Department of Agriculture educational event with tomato seedlings in medium-size containers, around which they had planted spinach, beans, peas, and sunflowers. My kids had great luck, and soon we had little plants ready to be put into the ground. The spinach couldn’t make the transition, but the other plants looked promising. I re-drew my maps.
Under the general category of “I am not in control of the universe,” I have learned a few corollary lessons so far this summer. Lesson One: squirrels love tomatoes. In past years, when I grew cherry tomatoes, I could harvest some before they were snatched up. This year’s crop of lovely, disease-resistant, full-sized heirloom tomatoes proved to be irresistible to our local furry friends. Lesson Two: When you let children plant seeds, they will definitely put more than one seed in every hole. What I thought would be three sunflower seedlings turned into six tall, lovely sunflowers. There were seven, but squirrels like to eat sunflowers almost as much as they love tomatoes. Lesson Three: not all seedlings survive to bear fruit, no matter what you do. The beans had an early crop, then half of the plants died, and the rest needed a month of tender, loving care. All of the pea plants died except one. Sometimes things don’t work out the way we hope.
In late July, as I was deciding if I wanted to plant again for a late harvest or if I wanted to give up, I was reminded of the old aphorism about planting beans: “Sow four seeds as you make your row: one for the mouse, one for the crow, one to rot, and one to grow.” In other words, plan for uncertainty. Take chances, knowing not everything we try will bear the fruit we hope for. When the odds are slim, increase your tries.
Hearing this rhyme again helped me get out of the trap of, “Why me?” Gardeners and farmers in many times and places had gone through the disappointment of losing bean seedlings. The saying has some variations, such as replacing “mouse” with “cutworm,” “rook,” or “pigeon.” There are many ways for a seed to end up as something other than food for humans. Loss does not always arise from lack of effort or character flaw. Sometimes things just don’t pan out. Sometimes you learn from mishaps. The old rhyme pushed me into an experimental mindset, the ability to try new things, or to try again after failure with the full understanding that there are no guarantees. I planted some new beans and peas, along with some radishes and beets, hoping for a late September harvest.
Moving from a focus on failure to a focus on experimentation also helped me to be grateful for the plants that did survive and grow. Nurture what is working well. Give thanks, because spectacular things do not happen through the will of one person alone. If you saw my post about today’s service on Facebook or Twitter, I included a photo of the very first pea that came to maturity in my garden, one beautiful little pod, turning green and plump against very long odds.
This is the essence of some earth-centered holidays that happens around this time of year in the Northern Hemisphere, this holiday of the first harvest and the high summer tinged with the first glimmers of autumn. Some might call this holiday Lammas, which is a holiday about bread, celebrating the first grains of the season being harvested and threshed and ground. Some might call this holiday Lughnasadh (also spelled Lúnasa), after the god Lugh, a god of craftsmanship and many skills. At Lammas, we practice gratitude, we focus on the blessings we do have, and we realize that the earth itself is a more powerful partner than individual human gardeners in bringing about the abundance of the season. We remember sowing the seeds months ago, and we remember that planting is always a gamble, and we collect seeds from this year to use in the spring. When something bears fruit, we plan to use that experience in the future, we share the credit and the harvest, and we put love and artistry into the further work of transformation.
As it turns out, the spirituality of gardening carries with it some ideas that are echoed in science, education, and congregational life. One of my science education role models is Ms. Frizzle from the book and TV series of the 1990’s, “The Magic School Bus.” If you don’t know Ms. Frizzle, ask your nearest children’s librarian. In every book or episode, her students complete research projects about something like magnetism, the solar system, dinosaurs, or the human digestive system. When the students run into a question they can’t answer, Ms. Frizzle proposes a surprise field trip. “To the bus! Seatbelts, everyone!” The bus mysteriously becomes big or small, or travels through time or outer space, or withstands the conditions of a volcano or a waterfall so that the students are able to make observations and answer their scientific questions. Ms. Frizzle always says, “Take chances! Make mistakes! Get messy!” These three instructions are key for the ability of the class to learn new things and to have fun while learning.
Take chances. Make mistakes. Get messy. You will hear me say these three things again, because they also speak to a congregation’s opportunities during the Interim Ministry period.
Going back to the spiritual insights of Lammas, we learn at this time of year that we had to take chances. Only one out of four bean seeds in the rhyme led to a harvest. Sowing any kind of seed at all, literal or metaphorical, is a gamble. Not everything turns out the way we hope. Indeed, even as we bring in the first fruits, these are risky times. Sudden storms that cause the crop to rot or drought that invites wildfire are both real possibilities in August. Our inability to control the universe does not mean we are bad or lazy or incomplete. Living life to the fullest, learning and growing, requires a certain degree of risk.
In spiritual community, especially during the golden opportunity of an Interim year, we take chances together. We experiment with new ways of understanding the world, with different ways of worshipping and of doing church. We take the risk of speaking the truth with love. Take chances.
Make mistakes. Ms. Frizzle reminds us that the scientific method involves making a hypothesis and testing it. If we guess right every time, science doesn’t advance as quickly. We have to be willing to be wrong sometimes, and to admit we were wrong so that we can get to the juicy, exciting part of the learning process. We are human beings and we are fallible. Our tendency to make mistakes does not and should not cut us off from human community or from the traditions of spiritual growth or from the disciplines of science and craftsmanship. Humans are welcome in community, broken and whole, flawed and fabulous.
Lugh, the god who is celebrated at Lughnasadh (Lúnasa), is a character of many skills. He’s a warrior and a wheelwright, he’s a musician, he’s an athlete. Even mythical characters have to practice. Getting better at anything, from blacksmithing to gardening to being human, means we have to start out not being very good at it. Fail spectacularly. Fail with gusto. Fail better, and keep learning.
I tried growing beans and peas, and I mostly failed for the first harvest. Some part of that was due to random chance, but another part helped me learn about drainage, pest control, and planting more seeds than I think I am going to need for my crop. We’ll see how the second harvest goes. When I remembered that it’s OK to make mistakes, I was able to celebrate what I had and use what I learned rather than dwell on failure. Make mistakes.
Get messy! Farming involves getting covered with dirt, and sometimes covered in things more specific than dirt. Science education can lead to all kinds of messes, from vinegar and baking soda reactions to rock collections to close observations of living things. The abundance of Lammas puts us knee deep in flour, or the gluten-free grain of your choice. In the middle of a chaotic rush to bring the harvest home, we pay more attention to what we are doing together than on looking neat and pristine or on creating the illusion of having everything together.
In spiritual community, we get messy by being vulnerable and by accepting the range of wisdom and experience and emotion that our companions bring to community. An inclusive community welcomes all people, but not all behaviors. Figuring out how to be together, setting boundaries to help the congregation to be a place of courage and growth, is not easy. This is the art of covenant. Communities where people are authentic are complicated and difficult and heartbreaking and annoying and surprisingly joyful. Get messy.
This Lammas, let us give thanks. Let us remember the risks and acknowledge the losses, yet let us focus on gratitude and abundance. Fail better, and increase tries. This Lughnasadh (Lúnasa), let us celebrate the skills within us and among us, and let us commit to the love and artistry of living in community. As we bring in the first fruits of this new church year together, let us commit to a path of spiritual growth, lifelong learning, diverse and welcoming community, justice, and compassion. To stay on that path, let us take chances, make mistakes, and get messy.
So be it. Blessed be. Amen.
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Gagne Down But Not Out At BIR As He Wins 10th Straight MotoAmerica Superbike Race
Jake Gagne Crashes But Still Wins HONOS Superbike In Minnesota
Fresh N’ Lean Attack Performance Yamaha’s Jake Gagne has now won 10 races in a row in the 2021 MotoAmerica HONOS Superbike Championship, but this one was different. On Saturday at Brainerd International Raceway, Gagne crashed and still managed to win the first AMA Superbike race held at BIR in 17 years.
Leading the race on the second lap, Gagne crashed in front of the pack and was stuck in the middle of the track as the field motored by on both sides. He finally ran to safety and, with his bike still on track, a red flag was thrown, stopping the race. Fortunately for Gagne, his Yamaha suffered only minor damage and he was able to ride back to the hot pit for repairs prior to the restart.
From there it was typical Gagne as he grabbed the lead and pulled away, ultimately besting M4 ECSTAR Suzuki’s Bobby Fong by 4.675 seconds to win his 10th race of the year and extending his championship points lead to 74 points. The win, which was also the 10th of his career, moves him into a tie with Mike Baldwin for 19th on the all-time AMA Superbike win list.
“That was the highest my heart rate has probably been in a while,” Gagne said of the crash and the panic that ensued while dodging his fellow racers. “We sat on the grid for a long time both times. I know we were all kind of wondering what was going on. I know there was a crash on the warmup lap or the sighting lap. I saw the guy right next to me in the grass go flying by. So, that was just a weird start. I know all our tires were a little cold there at the beginning. I think with that quick of a heat fluctuation, you put so much heat in these tires in turn one and two especially, so from going that cool… I even spun the tire off the line, which I’ve never done in my life. I just lit it up. So, it was just weird.”
“It caught me by surprise,” Gagne said of the crash. “I went into turn three and was barely on the gas. The thing came around on me and I just kept going. I was wondering if it was going to highside me. Luckily, it didn’t. I just kind of lowsided and then I’m sitting there in the middle of the track watching Superbikes fly at me. Luckily, everybody is looking ahead. We can see something is going on, so nothing bad happened. I’m just fortunate that that Yamaha slid. We bent a little lever. We had to mess around with the bars. The only thing that was wrong, we were just a little tweaked during the race, but it was totally fine. Hats off to the team because they hustled. We got that bike together right in the nick of time to get back out for pit lane. Again, thanks to Alpinestars for protecting me. I had a long slide, and the bike was really just sliding on top of me, so it was like digging my butt in the ground. We got a new suit on and went out there and did it again. So, I’m pumped I got another good start. I knew these guys were coming. Tomorrow will be another show. I know it’s tightening up every time. We’ve just got to keep doing our thing and focusing on our part.”
For Fong the race ended a podium drought that dates back to the very first race of the year at Road Atlanta in May.
“I felt pretty good out there,” Fong said. “Before the restart, I felt like I had some pace, for sure. At least to try to see Jake (Gagne) from a distance, just to kind of latch onto him. I’m struggling pretty bad in turn two. I’m losing literally a half a second a lap just in that one turn. I felt pretty good through the infield, but I had a solid machine underneath me today. It was good. The pace was pretty good. I just tried to manage it at the end. I’m looking forward to tomorrow at least to try to be a little closer to Jake. I know (Loris) Baz will be there tomorrow. It was definitely slick out there the first few laps. It was weird because I was in the back of the train, and I just see everybody just coming out of the seat and tucking the front. I had my moments back there, too. It was really weird. But I’m happy to get second and move forward to tomorrow with a positive attitude.”
The battle for third was fought out between the two South Africans – Westby Racing’s Mathew Scholtz and M4 ECSTAR Suzuki’s Cameron Petersen. At the completion of the 15-lap race it was Scholtz grabbing third for his seventh podium of the year, though it still allowed Gagne to pull farther away in the title chase. Gagne now leads Scholtz by a whopping 74 points, 250-176. Petersen, meanwhile, made a big move to third in the championship, moving past Josh Herrin, who missed the race after testing positive for COVID-19.
Scholtz described what was a hectic race from start (and restart) to finish.
“The first lap, I’m not sure,” Scholtz said. “I turned into the first corner. I got hung up with (Loris) Baz, with Jake (Gagne). Then I think through the first lap everyone was slipping and sliding. I know Baz had a couple highside moments. Then (at the) start of the second lap, Jake crashed coming out of corner three. It was just chaos from there. I think Baz kind of thought someone was trying to pass him into corner four and he braked super late and tucked the front there. I was behind Cameron (Petersen). He tucked the front, too. He ran wide, and we got up again to first. Then the red flag came out. So, I knew it was absolute chaos, but it kind of sucks when you get to the front and the two guys that are beating you in the championship… I mean, Jake. Obviously, lucky he wasn’t hurt, but I kind of knew that he was going to get back in there. But the start of the second race it was very slippery, and I didn’t have any grip on the edge of the tire. So, I just kind of struggled for the first five or six laps. Once Cam passed me, he’s a very, very smooth guy. Kind of helped me fix my lines slightly and focus on that more. I could see that the lap times dropped. Then maybe with five or six laps to go, I could see Cam started struggling with his grip out of the corners. I kind of just put my head down and turned a few quick laps so I got past him. Then tried to focus on catching Bobby (Fong), but kind of ran out of laps. The arm pump was getting severe. It’s kind of something we have to look at for tomorrow’s race. Try to make it easier to kind of hold on and not veer so much out of the corners. So, we kind of know what we have to do now. Hopefully, we can get up there and challenge Jake tomorrow.”
Petersen held on for fourth, some 2.5 seconds behind Scholtz and 14.2 seconds ahead of fifth-placed Hector Barbera on the Scheibe Racing BMW.
JD Beach battled early in the race with Barbera but ended up sixth on the second Fresh N’ Lean Attack Performance Yamaha in his replacement ride for Herrin.
Altus Motorsports’ Jake Lewis was seventh and that put him at the top of the Superbike Cup, a class within a class for those riding Stock 1000-spec motorcycles in the HONOS Superbike race.
Franklin Armory/Andrew Lee Racing’s Andrew Lee was eighth on his Stock 1000-spec Kawasaki ZX-10R ahead of FLY Racing/ADR Motorsports’ David Anthony and his teammate Bradley Ward with the Suzuki-mounted pair finishing ninth and 10th, respectively.
Notable among the non-finishers was Warhorse HSBK Racing Ducati New York’s Loris Baz with the Frenchman crashing out of the race on the second lap with his Ducati Panigale V4 R too damaged to repair for the restart.
Superbike Race 1
- Jake Gagne (Yamaha)
- Bobby Fong (Suzuki)
- Mathew Scholtz (Yamaha)
- Cameron Petersen (Suzuki)
- Hector Barbera (BMW)
- JD Beach (Yamaha)
- Jake Lewis (Suzuki)
- Andrew Lee (Kawasaki)
- David Anthony (Suzuki)
- Bradley Ward (Suzuki)
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(From left to right) Bobby Fong, Jake Gagne's crew chief Jon Cornwell, Gagne and Mathew Scholtz celebrate on the BIR podium. Photo by Brian J. Nelson
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LBJ goes to LA
Some people love the guy, some people hate him, some are kinda in between. All I know is that he’s gone and the Cavs won’t be contenders for many years now. They have no money for any moves because of everything they did the past few years to try and win and they have no picks for the same reason. But hell, all teams have to rebuild at some point.
It was worth it certainly, having lived in NE Ohio my whole life and watching sports teams disappoint year after year often makes me question why I watch sports in the first place. But LeBron is the whole reason I started enjoying basketball years ago and it was fun getting some other people into it also. I had a good time these past four years watching four straight Finals appearances and seeing such a great player be tested against one of the greatest teams of all time. I feel things were left undone from a fan’s standpoint, especially since getting swept in the finals this year was the worst blowout since they lost it all to the Spurs back in 2007.
Year one of ‘The Return’ was pretty great. Roster moves and additions made for one helluva team and they were fun AF to watch. I think Cleveland had a very strong chance in winning it all in 2015 if not for injuries. Hell, if Booby Gibson has been able to keep playing I’m almost sure the Cavs would have resigned him and you can’t tell me he wouldn’t have been a great addition to the team that year. Gibson and Irving were starting to mesh despite injuries and problems off-court. They managed to win 33 games in 2013, a huge improvement over the previous three seasons of 19, 21 and 24 wins. The team sucked without LBJ but they were getting better. When James returned I didn’t expect them to make it all the way to the Finals and even though they lost the finals in six games it cemented that James’ return was the best thing to happen to Cleveland basketball (and Cle sports in general) since LeBron was drafted. Dude tried to will the team to victory but losing two starters pretty much sealed the deal.
Then the year they won it all. The coach, Blatt getting fired midway through the season was crazy and I really didn’t think they would pull it off but it was a great season and finally being good at something was wonderful for the entire city. They had done it and LBJ was the hero Cleveland had hoped for. They also managed to be the first team in history to come back from a 3-1 deficit (beating the team with the most season wins in NBA history). True grit won those last three games and it was incredible. I figured it was over when they lost game four at home but after game six I could hardly believe they had tied the series. Could they possibly beat these guys on their own turf? I could go on and on about it but you get the idea. They did the unthinkable and Cleveland’s 50+ year championship drought was over. Also the Indians went to game 7 of the World Series and ALMOST won. So...friggin...close. It’ll be hard to top 2016 in Cleveland sports...perhaps for the rest of my life.
Last year they looked as if they had a chance of winning again. It was another great season and until the finals they only had one post season loss. Golden State adding Kevin Durant was huge and I’m pretty sure we got Bogut since he was the only person to stand a chance at guarding KD but that injury was prophetic AF. I still can’t believe he got sidelined after playing for less than a minute for the Cavs. Only winning one game that finals was such a disappointment but you could tell from the first game that they didn’t really have what it took to beat such a talented team two years in a row. If they were gonna win again it would have been in 2017 when the core of the team was still intact.
Then this year. Ugh, they looked like crap TBH...all the trades and other BS going on, defensive problems, bad coaching calls and especially Irving leaving...the list goes on and on. LBJ had his best year as a player ever, played in every single game, put up crazy numbers, etc. but no one else really stood out this year. Still not 100% sure what happened with Isaiah Thomas after all the hullaballo about him coming to the team even though he was injured and then playing like crap but there were so many roster moves I forgot that Derrick Rose and Dwayne Wade were on the team at the beginning of the season. For many reasons they just were NOT the same team anymore, not even close. Losing Irving was the beginning of the end because they could never find a true replacement for him.
Getting swept in the finals last month still stings (especially that game one loss that they should have won...ugh, don’t even get me started) but they were lucky to get there at all considering. Two 4-3 series in the post season they scraped by and then facing a Warriors team that was ready to beat some ass, which we were not. It was like year one all over again except instead of injuries we just didn’t have enough. It was not the ending I wanted - to see one of my favorite sports players of all time go out that way, leaving the arena for the last time in wine and gold.
So there you have the last four years of Cavs Bball in a nutshell. They had a real shot at having three championships instead of one but one is what we got and that will have to be enough.
Basketball is what has gotten me through these past several Winters. Let’s face it, when it’s cold outside there isn’t a whole lot to do and I really hate being stuck indoors for months at a time. I go stir crazy before New Years rolls around and anymore it’s late April or May before the weather is consistently decent enough to enjoy. It’s only July but time flies by and it’ll be getting cold out again all too soon. I can still watch the Cavs play but I think there’s little chance they will even win 30 games. Even 20 might be pushing it. They just don’t have anyone good enough to fill in those huge shoes. It’s the same when LBJ left back in 2010. They didn’t have a winning season until he returned four years later. In fact they had some of the worst seasons of the entire franchise’s history and it was extremely difficult to watch a team that was so entertaining look so god-awful. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I think, maybe I’m selling the rest of the players short but playoffs are not gonna be in the Q again for a long time and winning another basketball championship is an even longer way off. If they could only do it once with one of the greatest of all time how will they without?
It’s not even about winning so much or even the playoffs. James was fun to watch, every game. He’s the best player the league has seen in a long time, maybe ever. That’s debatable, of course, but at the very least he is awesome. If you want to compare to another great, as people so often do, Michael Jordan, he spent his entire career (before retirement and coming back) with the Chicago Bulls. There’s reasons for that though. The sport has changed since then and I don’t feel the team as a whole did enough to keep him around.
I’ve read plenty of articles, some favorable some not so much but in the end I think James had to do what was best for him. I’m not surprised he left Cleveland again. The first time was certainly different, it was a low blow to everyone I think but you couldn’t blame him for wanting to go somewhere where he could actually win. As for leaving this time, eh, maybe he’d rather live in LA than in Cleveland. Given a choice of cities I think that’s a no-brainer.
He and the owner never got along very well and this last season was proof that losing Irving to the Celtics was pretty much the nail in the coffin. LBJ once said he wanted to finish his career in Cleveland but I’m still blaming a lot of this on DG. To quote a twitter I saw earlier:
“Special place in NBA lore for Dan Gilbert, who backed into the best player of his generation, won the draft lottery three times in four years, spent like crazy, and still ran such a comically inept organization that LeBron bailed and everyone understands.”
I’ve also heard talk that DG was “glad to be getting his team back” and about 100 other things over the years that make me pretty sure that Irving leaving last year was just a precursor to LBJ leaving this year. Maybe that’s a bit unfair...the guy did open his pocketbook quite a bit but he made that all back and plenty more. James was often synonymous with drama and I suppose blame can be put on many shoulders for the way things went. It’s awful that LBJ could never commit to Cleveland and sign any long-term contract but in the end, whatever the reasons, what’s done is done.
I know there are many other factors in his decision to head west but being with the Cavs for 11 years and only winning one championship has to be one of the biggest. NE Ohio will always be his hometown...more than just being born here and what he has done for the community and meant to Cavs fans the whole state over.
I feel like I’m losing a friend and I never even met the guy in person. He’s been the face of the team for so long, come October when the next seasons starts it’s gonna feel so empty and I dunno if I want to watch a team without the person who made me a basketball fan all those years ago when it simply won’t be close to the same excitement level.
Maybe I’ll watch some Lakers games. I’ll admit I didn’t really pay attention to Miami when LBJ was there but I didn’t really have the same view on sports then as I do now. I’m older, most of my friends are married and I don’t really have all that much to look forward to. A lot has changed in the last four years.
Anyway, it’s a blow to what has already been a rough year but it is what it is and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll just have to remember that victory on June 19, 2016. Those amazing last minutes of that game seven and looking at the people around me wondering “Is this really going to happen?” Maybe the Indians can do better than last year also. (cuz the Browns sure as hell ain’t doing anything, though they do seem to be trying, and with the NFL’s new helmet rule I think college will be about it for football) As piss poor as the rest of our division is in baseball they are almost guaranteed a playoff spot so we’ll see what happens in October. Winning the World Series would certainly soften this stinger.
Thanks for the championship, all the other wins, the great plays and all the memories, man. I wish things had gone differently but you kept your promise and did more than any Cleveland sports fan could have ever dreamed. You will be missed.
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Don't Stop Believing Para Christmas Hat T Shirt From AllezyGo
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DIFFERENT PUBLIC WORKS TO DOand THEN THERE IS A MONTAGE OF THE START OF THE SEARCH ESSENTIALLY PEOPLE SALUTING GONZO WITHOUT THE CROWN DOESN’T OR YOU’LL MAILING THE MAIN CROWNand JOHN WRITING OUT I SEEM TO ESCORT THE WILD WINGS BACK OUT TO THEIR TO THEIR HOMELANDS IT ALWAYS FEELS LIKE HE’S WITH THEM WITH THEMand IT’S THAT IT WILL END THE SHOP WAS A VERY INTERESTING SO JOHN IS GOING TO LEAVE THE NICE LUNCH AGAIN WHAT HE IS RENDERING I GUESS I YEAH I THINK DELIBERATELY OPEN TO INTERPRETATIONand YOU KNOW HE MAY BE NO LINE IN THE IN THE EPISODE BETTER SUMMED UP THE LIKE THEY’LL FIGURE IT OUT NATURE OF THIS EPISODE IN THE SEASON THAN TERRYand SANG ARE NUKING DOESN’T SEND YOU THE NIGHTWATCH JOHN SAYING THERE STILL A NICE WATCHand HEARand SAVE THE WORLD WILL ALWAYS THE HOME FOR PASTORSand BROKEN MAN OKAY AGAIN ON THE ONE HAND THERE’S IDEAS ARE ESSENTIAL TO THE SHOW ON THE OTHER HAND LITERALLY WHY IS THE NIGHTWATCH AREA I WAS WAITING FOR LIKE SOCIAL I DON’T OCCUR SOMETHING I FIND IT I FOUND IT VERY I FOUND THE OUTLINE FASCINATING BECAUSE A LOT OF THE TENSION IN BETWEEN JOHNand TEARYand IN SEASON ONE IS JOHN’S NAIVETY IN BELIEVING THAT THE NIGHTWATCH WAS THIS NOBLE PROFESSION STANDING BETWEEN THE REALMS OF MANand WILD WINGSand EVIL ETC
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Racer Everything Will Kill You So Choose Something Fun Poster
Now Chicago Indiana and you know the last program and it was all about talked about really ancestral grounds you are going back home to most of the folks up in Chicago they went up there in the 1840s and 1950s fleeing from the ancestral grounds ancestral areas here in the United States they were playing from the southeastern region of the United States they went up there were factory jobs and other types of jobs and all I can and now to three generations later you have models far worse in the ever suffer you down and down in Arkansas Georgia Mississippi how separate a Racer Everything Will Kill You So Choose Something Fun Poster lot more so that’s good and Gary and you and Gary and Dennis Weldon is right not outside. Today is real consequence five everything we can economy children across the country we live in all online where we the worst public health century management the worst since the Great Depression experiencing. The screen junkies check that out as well also the Blu ray of row one comes out todayand lucky for you we already put up our blue our commentary of row one so what you got your disk or what you by the Google player Amazon wherever you like to get your movies from sit downand watch it along with us is pompous up on YouTube as your watching another screen to be a lot of fun also tomorrow the next new episode of nightmares drives very much they recorded ASA with special guest gambled out sorrow is on that you want to check that as well a new absurd TV drop TV talk to Augustine of course every Friday new episodes of Jeremy John’s is awesome tackler make sure you check that out okay with all that way let’s get you like twitter questions Ashley what you loveand uncle Amyand Mike anemia for story I was going anywhere we remember this is not an origin story we’ve already seen Spiderman was Artie Spiderman by the time we got into A mix of workand he may inspire me for the last two years with a direction how long he’s
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When MLB’s best team also blew a 12-run lead
Here’s what it was like to watch one of baseball’s biggest comebacks ... from the wrong side
I am a Mariners fan, which has led to many bad sports nights. The worst began with Dave Burba slopping what I can only assume was his take on a cut fastball a few inches off the plate away. Ichiro was at bat, Mark McLemore on deck, the twilight was falling on a beautiful Ohio evening, and the Cleveland Indians were hosting the 80-31 Seattle Mariners.
I’d never seen the Mariners on television before. I moved to Seattle when I was 10 and was a boring enough child to fall in love with baseball after my first visit to the Kingdome. Thanks to the vagaries of cable, however, I had to follow my team via radio and once-yearly excursions to the ballpark. That’s not necessarily a bad thing when you have Dave Neihaus guiding you through your favorite team’s golden age*, but it did leave me starved for non-aural baseball.
*As it turns out, 1995-2003 was also the Mariners’ only non-fecal age.
So starved, in fact, every time Seattle made it to a national broadcast, I would try to watch. And every time, for literally years, I’d get notified that, so sorry, your game has been blacked out. Until, suddenly, on Aug. 5, 2001, it worked. I was baffled by this turn of events, of course, but decided to take it as a note of benevolence from a higher power, and settled in to watch.
Pitch number two was in more or less the same place as Burba’s first offering. Three was an 84-mph fastball down the middle that Ichiro apparently thought would be too embarrassing to hit, a decision which cost him when he was called out on strikes a few pitches later. So far so bad, a younger, more innocent me must have thought.
The 2001 Indians were a good team and could pitch. A little bit. Bartolo Colon was in his intimidating pomp, and the arrival of rookie left-hander C.C. Sabathia helped give their rotation a one-two punch which was entirely irrelevant when Burba (or anyone else — Cleveland essentially ran a AAA rotation beyond the big two) was on the mound. At his best, Burba was slightly better than pure filler, but at 34 he was no longer at his best, and he was going up against a Mariners team that was set to absolutely torch him. Now he was up against Mark McLemore, who struck out too. Then Edgar Martinez chopped out to third.
If you follow baseball, you’re probably aware of this game, at least tangentially. And therefore you’re aware that this was something more disastrous than what was threatened in the top of the first: a mediocre pitcher chewing his way through a very good lineup. That’s a bad day, but not a traumatic one. Four batters into the game, when Kenny Lofton cracked a ground ball single back through the box, and hard, I feared a bad day. How disappointing it would be to have my first televised Mariners experience be a frustrating loss!
Aaron Sele wriggled his way out of the bottom of the first, which gives me a good opportunity to drop in this still from a between-innings commercial:
I think Pontiac would have been proud of how they’ve shaped modern society.
The Mariners scored four times in the top of the second. Two ill-considered dives produced a pair of hustle doubles, sandwiched around a Mike Cameron blast which bounced off the wall but would have gone about 20 rows deep if he’d been hitting the 2019 baseball. Ichiro then plated a pair with a delicate lob to left. Seattle was rolling, and I was happy.
I was still happier after the third. That inning went something like this:
Single
Single
Single
Double
Single
Single
Hit By Pitch
Sacrifice Fly
Walk
Error
Single
Strikeout
Lineout
It was worth eight runs and took the score to 12-0. No baseball team in 75 years had come back from a 12-run deficit. The Indians, who’d already been beaten twice at home by Seattle that weekend and were starting to look in trouble in the AL Central race, were staring at a blowout. No baseball team in 75 years had come back from a 12-run deficit.
Then one did. This game is in the record books as the greatest comeback of all time, the one in which Cleveland clawed their way back from a ludicrous deficit to win the game in extras. Blowing a 12-run lead over any length of time is difficult enough, but the sheer scope of the Mariners’ collapse is extraordinary. The teams each scored two runs in the middle innings, leaving the score at 14-2 during the seventh-inning stretch. The Indians had to compress history (and, for me, misery) into three innings.
They did so without the heart of their fearsome batting order. By the time the comeback began, both lineups had seen a slew of changes. Ichiro, Martinez, and Olerud were on the bench, as were Alomar, Juan Gonzalez, and Ellis Burks. The only really dangerous bats left available to either team were Jim Thome and Bret Boone, and the latter had been given the day off anyway. Despite the two clubs sending seven hitters to the 2001 MLB All-Star game, only Mike Cameron played the full 11 innings of what was to prove one of the most memorable games of the decade.
Anyway. By the middle of the seventh, I was in a pretty good mood. I was getting to watch (not listen!) to one of the greatest teams of all time kick the ever-loving shit out of some pretty capable opposition, and although it was a little annoying that most of the big bats were out of the game, all the Mariners needed to do to ensure my evening finished happily was not blow a 12-run lead.
AN ASIDE: Whatever happened to this dude? Did we lose him during our difficult transition to being a civilization of Mango Freaks?
END ASIDE
Through six innings, Sele had given up six hits, a walk, and two runs. Russell Branyan, on for Burks, greeted him with a screaming line drive into the right centre field seats. 14-3. The comeback was on. Only, it didn’t really look it. Two batters later and the Indians needed 11 runs to tie the game, and had seven outs to do it. Solo home runs weren’t going to do it.
If we had to pick a turning point, the plate appearance which made all that followed possible, it might be Lofton’s walk. With two outs, Einar Diaz smacked a two-hopper up the middle and well out of Carlos Guillen’s reach, but Sele was still cruising and quickly got Lofton 0-2 thanks to a generous called strike and a foul ball. One more strike would have sent the Indians into the eighth inning in an (even more) impossible hole. Sele threw exactly zero more strikes.
Lofton took four straight fastballs away. None of them were close. Omar Vizquel followed that up with a four-pitch walk, and suddenly Sele, who averaged just 2.1 walks per nine innings for the entire 2001 season, had walked the bases loaded. The clouds were gathering. Lou Piniella seeded them further by going to blowout specialist John Halama.
Halama, part of the return for Randy Johnson in 1998, was a terrible pitcher, AAA no-hitter aside. He somehow logged 110 innings for the 2001 Mariners, which is remarkable considering he didn’t strike anyone out and got absolutely blitzed by opposing hitters. The ‘01 Mariners had one of the strongest bullpens ever assembled, headlined by Kazuhiro Sasaki, Arthur Rhodes, and Jeff Nelson. Even the best bullpens, however, have their fair share of dreck. With an 11-run cushion and someone named Jolbert Cabrera at the plate, dreck should have been fine.
It was not fine. Cabrera took a big swing on a changeup away, and yanked the ball into left. That fooled Martin, who froze, took a step backwards and then charged in, allowing the ball to drop a step or two in front of him. Two runs would score, and the seventh inning ultimately ended, 14-5.
The Mariners’ bats seem to have considered their job done. After the fifth, they went a combined 3-18, with three singles. Having scored 14 runs in that early blitz, they quite reasonably went into cruise control. They’d never come back out.
Meanwhile, the Indians were treating Halama like a piñata. Thome, whose two-run home run in the fourth got Cleveland on the board, flipped a 2-1 “fastball” into the left field corner for another homer. 14-6. Marty Cordova joined him in the home run parade after a Branyan hit-by-pitch — 14-8. Suddenly the game was within reach, and after a pair of singles Halama was done. Norm Charlton was called in from the pen.
Charlton wasn’t one of the big three Mariners relievers, but he wasn’t bad either, and Piniella would have been expecting him to hold down a six-run lead even in a tricky spot. He probably should have, too. Vizquel was jammed on a 95-mph fastball away, but he somehow kept it fair and the ball looped down the left field line for a double and a 14-9 score. The Mariners then got a break in this breakless of games — Lofton misread a ball which bounced off Tom Lampkin’s right leg and was thrown out trying to score, which allowed Charlton to escape to the ninth with a five-run lead.
I didn’t yet know to be nervous. Eighteen years ago, the Seattle Mariners were not the Seattle Mariners™. They had not yet become the unbridled force for misery which has shaped the way I look at sports. Their playoff drought was zero years. They had reached the ALCS in 2000, they would again in 2001. They were phenomenal, and I expected them to win more or less whenever they played, whatever the situation. And when they lost ... well, that happened. I suppose. Infrequently.
Ed Taubensee led off the bottom of the ninth with a single. With Thome and Branyan next up, the situation looked perilous, but Charlton made quick work of them. Two outs, down five, and a runner on first? That should have been game over. Then the wheels really came off.
I hadn’t watched this inning since I saw the calamity unfold live, but it’s seared into my memory regardless. Cordova absolutely crushed a pitch off the left-field wall to knock Charlton out of the game. Nelson was summoned. He got Wil Cordero to 3-2, then struck him out looking on a wicked slider:
Well, he should have struck him out with that slider. Instead was called ball four. Missed calls have been more egregious, of course, but this one had a profound effect on my young psyche, for six pitches later Nelson himself was knocked out of the game by a line drive into left off Diaz’s bat — 14-11. Suddenly it was a save situation, and it was clear to teenage me that something had gone terribly wrong.
I was ‘watching’ with my hands over my eyes as Lofton scooched a single past David Bell to bring up the go-ahead run in Vizquel. Not a soul in Jacobs Field was sitting down. This was it. Sasaki started Vizquel off with a splitter that he swung over for strike one. A second splitter followed, well out of the zone. The battle would end up lasting some time.
Baseball is a sport devoted to tension. Stress is the soul of the game and has been since the foul-ball rules were finalized. In a sport with a clock, key moments are just that: moments. They come, they go, they are finished with and done in a flash. Baseball stretches its moments and its fans to a breaking point. I am reliably informed that during Vizquel’s at-bat I was having what looked like a small seizure. All I really remember is the creeping horror, every pitch promising redemption or catastrophe but only serving to prolong the moment and ratchet up the stress.
Sasaki’s fifth pitch to Vizquel was a 91-mph fastball down the middle and at the knees, called a ball for reasons I suspect are related to the will of some malevolent deity. Pitch six was just about fouled off, an emergency swing sending a splitter trickling off behind home plate. Pitch seven was popped into the stands on the third base side. And then pitch eight was guided by the despotic hand of fate onto the label of Vizquel’s bat.
The subsequent weak grounder was perfectly placed, right down the first base line. Ed Sprague was a) playing in and b) not John Olerud, so his desperate dive ended in failure. Lofton was 34, and not as fast as he once was, but the ball was so well-placed — and the Mariners’ defense so thoroughly depleted — that he scored from first with 40 feet to spare. 14-14. Tie game.
For some reason I watched to the bitter end, even though extra innings were essentially and entirely denouement. Cleveland had already won the game by drawing level, and the Mariners had already lost it by blowing the biggest lead in MLB history. Cabrera’s walk-off single in the bottom of the 11th marked only the final blow in a disaster that had already unfolded.
Eighteen years later, this still haunts me. Not like it did then, when it was merely a humiliation, a nationally televised scandal of a game in what was otherwise an enormously successful season. But now, with the Mariners mired in year after year of pain, when the organization considers mediocrity aspirational, it’s hard not to see this as a harbinger of the misery to come, an early visitation of the Mariners in their true colors.
Sometimes I wonder if the current incarnation of the team, the one slowly draining the hope out of my fandom since 2004, is somehow inhabited by the ghost of Aug. 5. It’s ridiculous, of course — a single game, record books or not, has no bearing whatsoever on the standings 18 years later.
But. Still. What if?
Correction: This article originally stated that no team in history had ever come back from a 12-run deficit. In fact, it had happened twice prior to 2001, most recently in 1925.
This article originally ran before Secret Base launched, but it’s a very us story, and we like to think it’s worth reading. So here it is again!
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Depressed Diary Day 1
I’m starting this online diary because I can’t remember my days. Also I always wanted to be a writer so this is a good place to start.
So I woke up this morning feeling motivated. I’ve been feeling more motivated to go to work and try to have good days lately, it’s probably a manic state but that’s okay. I got up jerked off took a shower jerked off in the shower too.
The worst part about my masturbation is I have a girlfriend. She gives me pretty regular sex too so I really have no reason to but I just can’t bring myself to stop. The morning shower is the hardest place not to.
I finished getting ready after my shower. Brushed my teeth with some charcoal toothpaste from lush. I noticed it was expired since last July, wonder if that means it won’t work anymore? Only time will tell.(cause I ain’t looking that shit up.) I went to my room and my GF was just waking up, I didn’t even have to tell her to cover her eyes when I was about to turn on the light. I told her I loved her and placed a hand on her leg. I really wanted to just go back to sleep but I kept at it today. I ironed a purple dress shirt and put on my blue jeans, belt, leather jacket, and some unmatched blue socks from a pack my mom had bought for me. I told my girl I loved her again and headed out for the day.
On my way out I grabbed my vape, wallet, phone, and, keys. I headed to my beat up RAV4. Couldn’t remember where I parked so I looked in the front and back. It was in the back parked in a safe spot in our complex’s private lot.
It was raining today, water poured over the car as I approached. I was glad cause I haven’t washed her in months, maybe even a year. I jumped in the front seat and started her up. It was easy, the car is pretty new but I have tons of dents and scratches. A coworker backed up into the side and knocked down a plastic panel that now hangs on the passenger door until either I get it fixed or something rips it from the car. My license plate hangs from one screw due to a time where my girl and I fought all the way to her dropping me off at my car. I was so mad I hit her bumper and broke the other screw that holds it in a way it can’t be replaced without drilling out the hole.
My drive to work was in eventful. I played AM radio and listened to the traffic.
“Even though we didn’t get enough rain to leave standing water on the freeways, the 880 is backed up due to several inches of water.” said the traffic host.
It hadn’t rained much this winter but it was still better than the drought years that passed.
I Arrived at the office after texting and driving the whole way there. Not the safest way to drive but the mornings are just so depressing I often can’t resist.
I’ve found that it cures my loneliness temporarily. The office had posting on the door about carpets being cleaned, and not to walk on them too much. I laughed to myself as I knew it wouldn’t change the amount I walked. Not like I could levitate or climb on the walls to avoid the carpet. I entered the office ready to make coffee, had to walk thru the complex as our office is located inside on a corporate condo complex. I said hi to the few people in, David, Jeanessa, Colleen, Leslie(Lacey?), Heather, and Jennifer. I’m so bad with names and we have a Leslie and a Lacey in the office but I’ll be damned if I know the difference. The walls are stark white and the ceiling is tiled with those plaster or insulation tiles they use in schools and office buildings, also white. Rows of two laptop computers on desks of the glass walled cubicles sat humming waiting for the rest of the office to come in.
I always make the coffee in our office if I can help it. No one had started it which was kinda surprising as last time Jennifer beat me to the office she had done it before me. Apparently she even had done a better job than me as the filter had over flowed the grounds and some were burned to the bottom of the pot. I grabbed the pot and threw away the used grounds, took the filter, it’s parts, and the pot with me to be cleaned. I rinsed and scrubbed them without soap in the communal sink near the vending machines. After I was done I marched back to the break room to make the coffee.
I felt my stomach rumble as I poured the ice cold water into the back of the coffee maker. I hadn’t had breakfast. I was looking forward to making some ramen when I headed home for lunch, I knew I needed to make soup aswel because my fiancé was sick.
I texted her to let her know I was excited to see her that night. We’ve been going thru hard times lately. Her grandparents were moving out of state and she spent the last few days seeing them off. She didn’t like that they were leaving and often made it personal, as if she were the reason they were moving away. I let her know I would be home for lunch at 12:30.
I wasted my morning, did about 20 mins worth of work between 9 and noon when I was to leave for work, spent the rest of the time posting and looking for memes on my anon Facebook. I even managed to fit an argument about Moana and Disney in my drive back home for lunch.
Lunch didn’t go at all as I had pictured. When I walked in my girl was standing I font of an empty wok at the stove, I thought it was strange as she never cooks with my wok. She immediately began to apologize for not have finished lunch. Since I had not expected my sick girlfriend to be cooking at all I quietly accepted and told her it was okay and I had enough time. I was very wrong.
She asked me to help cut up some chicken, and I thought I saw about a cup of oil in the wok.
“Oh baby that’s too much oil for this wok you only need to coat the pan when you stir-fry.” I told her sternly.
“It’s not oil it’s water.” She replied
Confused I asked. LOh really what are you making?“
I don’t remember exactly how it goes from here but she was not happy I questioned her and I was not happy either. I hadn’t eaten yet that day and my temper was short. I got pissed off when she couldn’t find a spice she needed. I wonder why the hell she was doing all this in the first place. I needed to be at work in half an hour and she was planning to make sauce from scratch.
We fought for an hour, it made me late for work, plus I didn’t get to eat lunch at all. I’m so hungry, it all my fault. Idk what to do but now I’m supposed to cook to make it up to her. I feel like I want to die.
I don’t even want to eat anymore. I want to just stop eating all together. I’m considering make this blog a kind of suicide note tracking what happens to an adult male when he stops eating all together. I’m 170 lbs 5'11 and heaviest weight I’ve been in my entire life.
See you tomorrow if I can remember.
Khandoit
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John Reed-USA TODAY Sports
HAHAHAHA HAPPY HALLOWEEN.
Yesterday we wrote an article talking about Auburn playing LSU and the possibility of resetting the year that has been 2020. If a crisp fall Saturday on the Plains culminating in the largest margin of victory in this series by either team doesn’t help turn you into a believer in that theorem, then you need Zakoby McClain to knock some sense into you.
Auburn absolutely destroyed LSU today 48-11 to avenge three straight losses and set karma right in the world. Bo Nix had by far his best game as the Tiger starting quarterback with nearly 400 total yards of offense, and Kevin Steele’s defense suffocated LSU time and again.
Nix’s line? 18-24 through the air for 300 yards, with three touchdowns, including a 91-yard bomb to Anthony Schwartz to highlight the afternoon. He also added 81 yards and a touchdown on the ground on just 11 carries. 381 total yards and four touchdowns. Not bad. The rest of the offense took shape as well and Auburn’s defense rose to the task, hitting hard from the start to set the tone.
Even though the first quarter ended scoreless, Auburn clearly entered today more fired up to play, forcing a three-and-out on LSU’s first drive. Auburn’s first two possessions weren’t anything to write home about, but they ran the ball fairly well, going for seven and nine plays respectively and pinning LSU deep with good punts from Aidan Marshall. On LSU’s third possession, they missed a 56-yard field goal, and Auburn took over with a crisper flow.
Auburn moved into LSU territory, and Nix completed a back shoulder fade to Seth Williams near the goal line, but Derek Stingley popped the ball out of Williams’ grasp and it went through the end zone for a touchback. Just three plays later, LSU quarterback TJ Finley overthrew a pass that landed in the hands of Auburn defensive back Nehemiah Pritchett, who appeared to return it for a pick six, but another review confirmed he stepped out at the five.
.@NehemiahP_2019 with the mitts and the jets. ✌️
— Auburn Football (@AuburnFootball) October 31, 2020
Two plays after that, Nix hit Eli Stove on a little flare pass for the game’s first touchdown, and Auburn led 7-0 with 12:13 to go in the half.
Make 'em miss. pic.twitter.com/gLAIkk3DZ8
— Auburn Football (@AuburnFootball) October 31, 2020
After both sides traded punts, LSU started another possession at their own 20, but on third down, Finley held the ball too long as he got crunched by Derick Hall, and he fumbled the ball. Christian Tutt swooped in, and grabbed it in stride, returning it 20 yards for the score. 14-0 Auburn with 5:27 to play in the half.
Them boys on D goin' CRAAAAAZY. pic.twitter.com/um1ZJgbPDf
— Auburn Football (@AuburnFootball) October 31, 2020
That touchdown was the first of six scores in a row for Auburn, and they tacked on another touchdown in the final minute of the first half on Nix’s second scoring pass of the day. This one went to Ze’Vian Capers on a beautifully-designed play that had Capers wide open in the left side of the end zone.
LSU was able to break their scoreless drought by quickly moving downfield and knocking through a 51-yard field goal as the half expired, but Auburn still held a nice 21-3 advantage at the break. To begin the third quarter, Auburn continued to hammer down, scoring touchdowns on four drives to begin the half.
First, Auburn moved 75 yards to start the third quarter, and Bo Nix tacked on a rushing touchdown to his total with a four-yard scamper to increase the edge to 28-3. Next, Big Kat Bryant intercepted a pass that turned into a Tank Bigsby short touchdown, and then Auburn ate some clock with a 12-play drive that covered 69 yards for another Tank touchdown. With those three in the books, it was 42-3, but the Tigers weren’t done as we began the fourth quarter.
LSU punted on the first play of the fourth quarter and pinned Auburn at its own nine-yard line, but Gus Malzahn decided to go for the kill shot, which Nix executed perfectly to the fastest man in college football.
.@TheRealF1ash has reservations for 6. pic.twitter.com/SNcyIoLzVF
— Auburn Football (@AuburnFootball) October 31, 2020
48-3 at that point, and it was all done. Nix and the starters left the game while Grant Loy and Mark-Antony Richards got to inherit the backfield for almost a quarter. LSU would find the end zone on a long pass from backup Max Johnson to Kayshon Boutte, but this one ended with Auburn taking home a super cathartic 48-11 victory.
FINAL STATS
PLAYER OF THE GAME
After we’ve talked so much lately about how Bo Nix has been almost hindering the team at times, he took a huge step forward with a very efficient game last week at Ole Miss, and then today he had his best outing as the Auburn quarterback.
We went over the stats above, but 18-24 for 300 yards, with 81 yards rushing on 11 carries and four total touchdowns. It was a huge day, and he controlled the game with both his arm and his legs. When LSU blitzed and got pressure, he stood up well and didn’t panic. When he needed to run, he did and did well. His touch was much better today, and he converted the deep bomb to Anthony Schwartz (FINALLY) for the capper to put LSU to sleep.
Today we saw Bo Nix take control, and his elevated play helped the rest of the team have faith in itself. Maybe they’ve started to understand how to play with each other, from the backs to the receivers to the offensive line (which also looked good today despite a few early breakdowns).
Honorable Mention: Zakoby McClain was an absolute monster today. His moniker “The Rolling Ball of Butcher Knives” came into play early and often, and he got the good graces of avoiding an ejection by targeting after the play in question went under review. After that, he took Tim McGraw’s words to heart and lived like he was dying. The first half was his half, and he finished with 9 tackles and a TFL, but he was in on every big stop before this game got out of hand.
PLAY OF THE GAME
I have to pick one? Then it’s the Schwartz bomb, but we’re not married to it.
.@TheRealF1ash has reservations for 6. pic.twitter.com/SNcyIoLzVF
— Auburn Football (@AuburnFootball) October 31, 2020
Other favorites are the Tutt scoop and score (linked above), and just for laughs, look at how much of a hole this offensive line opened against a talented LSU defense when this one was all over.
This is an O-Line appreciation post.
— Auburn Football (@AuburnFootball) October 31, 2020
Like we said above, the offensive line was at times an unnoticed strength today. LSU had been averaging more than 7 tackles for loss per game this year, but ended up with just 5 today. Nix wasn’t sacked once.
UP NEXT
We’re 60% of the way through the season, and Auburn gets to take its break now. The Tigers will be off on November 7th for the bye week, but after that it’s back to the road to meet Mississippi State, who’s failed to win since knocking off LSU in the season opener.
Huge win today, everyone. War Eagle!
from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2020/10/31/21543882/game-recap-auburn-48-lsu-11
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Kelly, Lewis, Hobbs And Gloddy Emerge Victorious At VIR
Sean Dylan Kelly Still Undefeated, Jake Lewis Back On Winning Track In Virginia.
M4 ECSTAR Suzuki’s Sean Dylan Kelly continues to strike while the iron is hot, the Floridian keeping his perfect season alive with another MotoAmerica Supersport victory with this one coming after a closely fought battle at VIRginia International Raceway.
While Kelly remains the only unbeaten rider in the 2021 MotoAmerica Series, Altus Motorsports’ Jake Lewis became a first-time winner in the Stock 1000 class, the former MotoAmerica Superbike rider ending a winless drought that dates back to 2017.
In the other support classes, it was a case of repeat winners as Ben Gloddy earned his second win of the season in the SportbikeTrackGear.com Junior Cup race; and Teagg Hobbs emerged victorious from a brawl in Twins Cup for the second straight race.
Supersport: Kelly Remains Perfect
Sean Dylan Kelly is on a roll. The M4 ECSTAR Suzuki rider had a perfect weekend in round one at Michelin Raceway Road Atlanta, earning the pole and winning both races, and he also earned the pole on Saturday at VIR, then followed up his number-one starting position with the win in Saturday afternoon’s race one. And he did it in dominant fashion, leading the 19-lap race from start to finish.
Stefano Mesa crashed his MESA37 Racing Kawasaki during morning final qualifying, but he managed to get his bike repaired and set aside the pain in his bruised body to take second in the race after a heated battle with North East Cycle Outlet Racing’s Benjamin Smith. The Yamaha rider and former KTM RC Cup Champion was delighted to get his first podium result in MotoAmerica’s middleweight class.
“First of all, happy to be in the P1 spot again,” Kelly said. “For sure this was a little bit of a different race than Atlanta in one way. Honestly, I’m happy about this because I came into the weekend with a bit more question marks. As I said on the podium, I was actually in bed for the last two weeks after Atlanta. So obviously that kind of screws with you mentally and I wasn’t really sure how I was going to show up here. Feeling good to be able to get through it. The heat really wasn’t helping, but I’m not one to talk. Stefano (Mesa) is hurt, Richie’s (Escalante) hurt, so those guys are in worse positions than me, I think. Either way, we came in here working. Ben (Smith) has been doing really good. Congrats to him for his first podium and also Stefano, just to finally be back on the podium together after Indy last year. It’s been definitely a tough race. I actually had no idea what the gap was. I was confused with the board and the information the team was giving me. I didn’t know if it was zero seconds or .2 seconds or two seconds or 20 seconds. I had no idea. I could only see twos. But I looked back with five laps to go and I saw that it was a little bit of a distance, but they were right there. So, I tried to be as consistent as I could. Honestly speaking, I didn’t feel as good as I was expecting. I thought the pace was going to be a little bit better from my point of view. I’m going to do my homework. I know there’s some things to improve to get that pace better, or more as I was expecting. Just going to do our homework and come back stronger and recover for tomorrow. Just got to thank my team and everyone around me for making this happen.”
Twins Cup: Hobbs Again!
Saturday’s Twins Cup race one was a close-fought contest throughout the 13-lap event. In the end, it was Innovative Motorsports/Mike's Imports Suzuki rider Teagg Hobbs who got the victory, which was his second win in three races thus far. Second place went to Jackson Blackmon Racing Yamaha’s Jackson Blackmon, who missed round one at Michelin Raceway Road Atlanta due to injury. GCP Suzuki rider Chris Parrish, who lent one of his spare engines to race winner Hobbs after Hobbs’ own engine expired at the beginning of Friday’s morning practice session, finished third.
“Overall, I cannot complain, said Hobbs. “Yesterday, it didn’t even look like we were going to have a bike to ride. I owe it all to Chris Parrish. I wouldn’t be in the race today if it wasn’t for him. I owe it all to Team Hammer and Innovative Motorsports, too. They did so much work on my bike today and yesterday. I felt so bad. So, to reward them with a win feels really good. I knew I needed to just ride a clean race in order to try and make it on the podium. Our main goal is just points for the championship. We already have one DNF this year, so I know we needed to cross the line. It’s just a plus that we were able to make a few moves to get us across the line first. It was a weird race. I’ve never really ridden with Jackson (Blackmon) on a Twins Cup bike. We don’t have much time together riding. So, I had to look at his moves, his lines, his brakemarkers. I knew I could draft him on the straight, but I didn’t think I could do it until the line. So, I tried to get in front and make as much of a mad dash as I could, and it seemed to work out. Still got a lot of work to do for tomorrow. It’s back to the drawing board and see if we can make it a double.”
Stock 1000: Lewis Ends Drought
In Stock 1000 race one, Altus Motorsports Suzuki’s Jake Lewis was victorious after only his third race back from a nearly-year-long MotoAmerica hiatus. The Kentuckian started from the pole but was overtaken by HONOS HVMC Racing Kawasaki’s Corey Alexander. Lewis regained the lead on lap 10 and held his advantage all the way to the checkered flag in the 14-lap event.
Alexander maintained his position in second to finish as runner-up, and third place went to Geoff May Racing/VisionWheel.com Honda rider Geoff May, the Georgian finishing on the podium for the second race in a row.
“It feels amazing, honestly,” Lewis said. “I think it has been since 2017 that I won a race, and even at that point that’s when I was doing Stock 1000 with Superbike, so even though it was a win, it really kind of didn’t feel like a win. So, it feels amazing to win a race outright. It was a hell of a battle with Geoff (May) and Corey (Alexander). I knew the pace was going to be high because qualifying we didn’t get many laps, so we couldn’t really tell everybody’s potential but at the beginning Corey was running really well. I was kind of just sitting there because obviously with the heat and the conditions we were both sliding around. Geoff was really strong racing into turn one and he got by me. I think us three were just kind of pacing each other. I think it was about eight laps to go, maybe six laps to go, I wanted to try to make my way to the front just in case of a red flag. I knew we were going to catch the lappers, so just in case of that I was like, this was my time. I was a little bit stronger in that left-hander and honestly just put a block pass on Corey and he had a couple of sections that he was a little bit faster. I knew Geoff was back there and trying to put the hammer down. It was weird because the last two laps, I knew the white flag and my pit board said only one lap to go, but I didn’t get the white flag, so I don't know if we did an extra lap or not because I was just so focused to actually know if I had the white flag, honestly. Just kept going until I saw the checkered flag. It was pretty hairy that last lap. I stuffed a lapper in the double apex right coming on the straightaway because I was like, if Corey’s here I’m going to need a draft so if I chop this dude’s front wheel off, maybe Corey can’t get by me. Luckily it worked out. It just feels amazing. Big thank you to George and Janette Nassaney with Altus Motorsports for getting me back in the paddock and on a great bike.”
SportbikeTrackGear.com Junior Cup: Gloddy Escapes With Win
In what was arguably the best race of the day, MotoAmerica’s entry-level class, SportbikeTrackGear.com Junior Cup, featured a tight battle between the top six riders. Landers Racing Kawasaki’s Ben Gloddy withstood a strong challenge from Veloce Racing Kawasaki’s David Kohlstaedt and Scott Powersports KTM’s Tyler Scott. At the checkers, Gloddy took his second win of the season by a scant .115 of a second over Kohlstaedt, who in turn, took the runner-up spot by just .134 over Scott, who finished third.
“Those last few corners were pretty insane,” said Gloddy. “I got swallowed up going into the turn before you come down the hill. I was going for that win. I was going to do kind of anything it took to get there. I went around the outside of one rider going down the hill and it was able to set me up perfect to get a double draft to the line. I was pretty worried honestly that I was going to get drafted. Luckily it didn’t happen. I think I’m going to go hop in the pool now.”
For more info checkout our dedicated MotoAmerica Support Series News page motoamerica-support-series-latest-news/
Or visit the official MotoAmerica website motoamerica.com/
Jake Lewis won his first-ever Stock 1000 race on Saturday and also ended a winless drought that dated back to 2017. Photo by Brian J. Nelson
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New Look Sabres: Preseason GM 4 - TOR - The Olofsson Show
I don’t really know where to begin with this one. I guess until Rasmus Ristolainen is traded every postgame needs to start with updated angst meter. With Risto being on the roster last night my angst rating went from 7/10 on Friday all the way down to a 4/10 on this fine Bills Gameday. I guess it’s still preferred he moves before whatever toxic drama he experienced behind the scenes ruins the locker room dynamic after they lose a couple games in a row. I know the trade trash sites have heated up their production on him the last couple days, but I don’t let that excite me unless Tim Murray is GM, or its clear Terry Pegula is breathing down Jason’s neck about bonus money. So how about we talk about the other skaters? I think I put in my mandatory 4 sentences of Ristolainen. He landed a dirty hit on one of the Leafs top 4 defenseman? Oh well, you can’t beat the classics. Welcome to Toronto, Tyson Barrie. I’m not making an excuse for that hit. It was stupid, ugly and a little too on brand for Risto. I think the more interesting question is does this mean Risto is really going kamikaze to end his time as a Sabre? He wants to go down with some kind of ritual suicide landing the most trash hits possible. Again, painfully on brand for Risto but I think everyone who is going to like him after he leaves will no matter what and the people who aren’t going to lose any sleep about it aren’t losing any sleep about it. I didn’t lose any sleep about it, that was the hard cider.
Yeah, I saw Ad Astra during this game last night. That’s how I do preseason promise: just ignore the game. Don’t see this movie unless you like Art films. Other than the space monkeys the only thing that wasn’t artsy AF was Brad Pitt just wailing for his daddy the whole frigging movie over narration. Well anyway, I came how to Beer pong and a series of drinking games with my siblings. That was fun but uh… sorry about some of the tweets that I let out during this time. I don’t think it was the booze though that made me enjoy this game so much watching it back. The big names came out to play for the home crowd against a Leafs team of Michal Neuvirth, John Tavares, Mitch Marner and the funny name alliance of no-name prospects. Tavares scored a little ways into the first. It was just a net-front redirect but it was in that range of goals Carter Hutton could have stopped. Hutton joined Rasmus Asplund on Chad DeDominicis’s list of the only two Sabres who were outright bad in this game. I’d have to agree on at least three goals against in this game. Henri Jokiharju and Dylan Cozens got back to back starts playing in this game and nothing really jumped off the page for me in this go around for them. That said, all I did was watch the highlight packs with a slight headache, so I probably missed something. Grill me for what I miss in the comments.
The star of this show was really Sam Reinhart. That was obvious even in the highlights. A couple minutes after Tavares’s tally Sam Reinhart scored essentially the same goal from a rebound. That’s right, Sam Reinhart is our John Tavares! And he’s better than JT you know! Lol, whatever I guess we have to troll each other as fanbases whenever we play. How about we just both be good at the same time, so I don’t need to bring up the Sabres have won more playoff series since the lockout even though we haven’t made the playoffs in eight years! OH BURN! Suck on that one, T-Town! What did all you punks do while we were throwing the queen’s tea in the harbor? I’m sure you normies were sipping it hardily you cowards! Okay, enough of that. In the second period Victor Olofsson scored an Ovechkin goal uncovered in the office on a powerplay. The Leafs would tie it up again before the middle frame ended but I really want to dwell on this Olofsson goal for a minute. It was powerplay goal assisted by Jack Eichel and Rasmus Dahlin. In addition to those guys Jeff Skinner and Sam Reinhart were on the ice. Assuming Victor Olofsson does become a scorer like we hope can I submit a formal request to Ralph Krueger and the two new assistant coaches with him? That should be a powerplay unit all season. That group consists of all the bonified scoring talents we have, and Rasmus Dahlin can play defense for the lot of them to whatever degree you need that on a powerplay. I mean, we need that because we’re the Sabres so yeah. In fact Trevor Moore would score a short-handed goal for the Leafs in the third period but not until after… the guy scored… the only guy whose worth mentioning in summer 2016: Jimmy Vesey, JV Vasectomy… uh… I’m sorry guys I think the mean nicknames bit is going to get cut before the end of Training Camp. Kinda sorry not sorry on that one.
That shorthanded Leafs goal by the way was strike two against Hutton last night. I don’t know what you expect when the Sabres are tied with the Leafs going into the last five minutes of regulation, but I normally think W. Last season beat that out of me a little bit, but I have a new hope now. Victor Olofsson scored again but this time from a Reinhart assist from behind the net. Olofsson just kinda passed it into the net. By this point I think the Leafs had Michael Hutchinson in just to remind all the Leafs fans present that this is a preseason game and even though it’s cheaper to drive all the way from Kitchener to Buffalo than to Toronto just because of ticket prices up there doesn’t mean the blue and white actually give a shit about the middle class. Olofsson is the standard bearer this year for the hopes of eternal optimists like me. If he can score just 20-30 goals this season he will be a helpful contribution. It’s guys like that coming in and adding just a little bit that makes us that much closer to a 90-point team. If Victor Olofsson wants to turn this team into the Olofsson show I’m more than pleased to cheer it on. The Leafs were bagged and this one would end 5-3 for the home team. CJ Smith would put in an empty netter in the last minute but those last seconds ticking away beating the Leafs is drained of its joy when it’s the preseason. Oh and sorry, CJ, an empty netter isn’t going to save you from cuts. I hope to see you called up, gee, I hope you survive waivers, but dude, figure it out. There are teenage Swedes whose names sound like Star Wars characters jumping you on the depth chart now. That segways nicely into cuts.
Before the unfortunately mostly rather expected cuts I want to debut a new bit. For games I’m writing up the next day, particularly ones that life stopped me from watching, I’ll be picking a reply to one of my Sabres tweets about the game for analysis. That’s right, your reply guy moment is going to find its way into New Look Sabres this season! Please contain your excitement. Our first ever Reply Guy Analysis comes from one of my most loyal followers: Jonathan who is leaning into the millennial theme with a couple snowflakes around his name @LakeEffectXJ, says: “Was fun and entertaining. A nice reminder exactly how good Olofsson’s shot is, a surprise for many how good Miller’s shot is, and we got reintroduced to how good Reinhart is and that he should be running his own line.” Thanks Jonathan, onto the cuts. Arttu Ruotsalainen saves Rob Ray and RJ from almost certainly butchering his name and gets sent back to the good old Liiga with two I’s. Everyone else cut is going to the Rochester Americans including CJ Smith and Andrew Hammond who both need to clear waivers. Hopefully both those guys do. The fun part of doing these blogs the day after is having information like this. Assuming you haven’t read the list of cuts and are too lazy to go read it now that you’ve made it this far here I’ll just list them out for you: Eric Cornell, Sean Malone, Andrew Oglevie, Kyle Olson, Kevin Porter, CJ Smith, Jacob Bryson, Casey Fitzgerald, Brandon Hickey, Zach Redmond, Devante Stephens, Andrew Hammond, Michael Houser, and Jonas Johansson. Amerks Training Camp starts Monday.
As always like, share and comment on yours truly’s special Sabres blog. Hopefully this was your break from the Bills game reading. In which case I have to warn you to not try to hold a loaded hot dog in one hand and your phone in the other. You think it’s easy but it’s not. Why ruin that nice jersey? I’ll be really honest and say I have never looked forward to a Bills game in my entire life as much as this one. I was a drought baby and a certain stinker in Jacksonville wasn’t going to get me pumped a couple years back. Anyway, I hope you come on back to read again as we have two more preseason games and the closing of Training Camp before we can actually get excited about beating teams. I think I speak for everyone when I hope we actually win enough for it to meaningful this season.
Thanks for Reading.
P.S. Moore shoving Olofsson into the Leafs bench was kinda fun I guess. Sportsnet said it led to the ensuing Leafs goal which I suppose it did but I thought taking guys out of the play was bad.
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Friday Thoughts 3.1.19
Happy Friday everyone,
Missed y’all in February but it’s a shorty any way. I guess you could say I was everywhere last month and had the rare, see both Ocean’s in the same week, which is kind of unique for an inlander like me, or at least I thought so.
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I hope this finds you well with someone who doesn’t smell like an Uber driver we had in San Diego. The combo of B.O. and Curry is awful. In our next Uber I was in the First Officers seat and our driver heard the story and he asked,
“you guys have a bad experience?’
To which I replied thank you for bathing today sir.
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And Albert Hammond is full of shit I’m here to tell you, because yes it does rain in California and it’s cold too. We did get to see one sunset in a week and this was it. Travel tip here. The scene at Ocean Beach on Wednesdays is worth the trip. The street market and the hippee scene down by the ocean is something to behold. You can’t drink a beverage legally but you’re welcome to do a J or Bong or whatever. And no we didn’t, I know you what you were thinking.
Sunset Cliffs and Cabrillo National Monument are must sees as well.
That’s Coronado Island and a Coast Guard Cutter sailing out to the really huge salty.
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The wife and I bought a new 65″ Smart T.V. for the family room last Saturday and by the fortune of Our Savior and Lord we are still married and talking to each other again. Guess how long it takes two 55 year old mammals to take down and old flat screen and bracket and put up a new telescoping bracket and T.V.? If you guessed four hours you would be right. After many expletives, not appropriate to repeat in this forum, every tool we own all over our everywhere, shop vac screaming and our dog hunkered down upstairs with his paws over his ears success and triumph were ours just as the U,K. game ended. Welp! Chris hit her head putting up the T.V. more times than I did on the USS Midway a few weeks ago.
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Deer excrement on a Bent Poa putting green. Quit it Bambi!
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Thursday in spinning class we had this new guy that was either a Temptation or one of The Four Tops but he made it special for the entire order. By the end of class the entire class was singing. It just takes one, to push over that first domino.
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It sure is fun to watch our local High School the Beechwood Tigers Basketball team this fall and winter! They ended a 70 year District Title drought by up ending the Covington Catholic Colonels for the second time this season. Wow! If I was a Beechwood t-shirt guy I would certainly be making a 35th District Champion shirt that says, “No Way You Beat The Wood 70 years In a Row!”
Good luck tonight against The Raiders.
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My son Doug and his friend Barbara. She is from Pennsylvania but she’s not 71. So there. Only sport where you get to have a cold one on the field before the game.
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I’m not the worlds biggest motor head, but I know where to put the gas in. The Daytona 500 is one of those special things that T.V. doesn’t come close to doing justice. Turn up the sound and smile because this is what I do every time. Don’t spill your beverage either.
youtube
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Enough about me. Hope you have a wonderful weekend and your slide down the dinosaur’s back ends with and starts with a great song on the way home. I’ll try to be more consistent.
Thanks to Mr. Wigger who I saw at Findlay Market this afternoon to poke me.
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DrHill
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Yes, it’s word play, but seriously, the unseasonably cold weather here in the Pacific northwest seems thoroughly unreasonable, to me at least. (We could talk about the futility of pairing reason with weather, but that would be another conversation). Seattle’s airport, Sea-Tac, marked its snowiest February on record before we were even half way through the month. The airport might get its coldest February on record, too. We’ve been locked into a nasty pattern of snow and cold for most of the month now, with more snow possible this week.
Winter weather in this part of the world normally consists of a tedious parade of gray days with plenty of drizzly rain and temperatures hovering around the mid 40’s F (7 C). We don’t have a lot of below-freezing days, and when it snows, it usually melts away in a day or two. Usually. But “usually” is just a memory, now that we’re stuck in this unreasonably unseasonable February.
Combine at least six inches of snow on barely plowed roads, temperatures consistently at or below freezing, and a declared state of emergency and you’ve got the perfect storm of difficult winter weather for our area. Then there were the cancelled flights, schools closed for days, impassable highways…we just don’t do snow that well. In these conditions a lovely walk outdoors has become a rare treat. I hadn’t realized until now that I’ve become spoiled by the region’s normally mild weather and the easy access to extraordinary natural habitats.
Of course, what we’re experiencing is nothing compared to many places in the US, Canada, and other places where snow is serious business and cold lasts all winter long. When I lived in New York I was used to shoveling out my car and slipping and sliding down the sidewalks. Since moving here though, I’ve acclimated to a different reality and I’m just not used to real winter anymore. Imagine my distress when for a week, my go-to coffee shop either didn’t open at all or closed early. During the worst of it, when Seattle suffered through its “Snopocalypse” I had my own crisis, i.e. “OMG where am I going to get my espresso?”
Lest I sound unreasonable, I don’t expect any sympathy, especially from my hardy friends in colder places. This is actually more about a sense of wonder that our blue, spinning earth continues to bring us so many surprises. May it always be so, and may nature always have the upper hand.
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It all began innocently enough with a light, rather picturesque coating of snow on the third of February. At home, perfect little bird tracks in the snow and tiny ice balls in the nets protecting the fruit trees were a delightful novelty. The roads weren’t bad that day. Even the dirt road to Cranberry Lake was navigable, so I set out on a cold, careful walk in the woods. The forest was enchanting that afternoon, but my fingers got numb very quickly. I was grateful I had a warm home to return to.
1. A dusting of snow at Cranberry Lake.
2. Sword fern plants bowed down under coats of mealy-looking, icy snow in a dark corner of the woods.
3. The birds were busy, leaving a maze of tracks in the thin layer of snow under the feeders. I singled out one little hop for a black and white.
4. An enclosure to protect young fruit trees against deer was dotted with balls of ice.
The next day it was bitter cold and the roads were icy. I took pictures indoors, photographed a deer through the window, and caught up on things at home.
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Soon the roads improved and the sun came out, but it was still very cold. I drove to a local park one day, hoping the road around it was passable. The boat dock sustained storm damage but – Yes! – the road was open. I drove happily through the woods at the proscribed 10 mph speed limit, stopping to photograph a twisted Maritime juniper tree. After 20 minutes in the cold I retreated back to the parking lot. Hearing the vibration of blasting music coming from a car, I muttered curses under my breath. Then I saw two young women sitting in their car, watching the sunset, and they seemed to be having a great time. Suddenly I realized the music was from the Bach Cello Suites! My frown turned to a smile. What prompted them to choose Bach instead of a hit from this week’s Top 100? I don’t know, and maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised by their choice. I gave them a thumbs up and a big smile. What a nice send-off to that icy-cold day.
6. Looking up into the dead branches of a Maritime juniper tree. Imagine standing under this noble tree while listening to a Bach Cello Suite.
7. The svelte mid-section of another maritime juniper tree.
8. As the sun set that day it left an orange glow behind the Olympic Mountains, 60 miles away.
A few days later there was another round of snow, this time in the form of big, wet flakes falling softly overnight, leaving clumps of the cottony stuff everywhere. It was still snowing that morning but I set out for the coffee shop anyway, creeping along on clean white roads. Hardly anyone was out. After getting coffee I drove around March Point and tried to photograph the snow falling but there was little light to work with, and once again my fingers numbed in minutes. Back at home, I noticed our little creek was an important source of fresh water for puffy little Dark-eyed Junco’s that were endlessly flitting back and forth between feeder and stream.
9. This little creek is dry as a bone in summer.
10. Cattails wore top hats of snow over their fluffy seed heads on March Point.
11. Leaning stakes probably mark old shipping lanes at March Point, where oil refineries share space with herds of cattle and a Great blue heron rookery.
12. The snow thickened over Fidalgo Bay, smudging the horizon.
Three days later, more snow fell….is this getting repetitive? You bet it is! I prowled around the yard again….
13. A Sword fern seems to shrivel and shiver in the cold. These hardy, evergreen ferns should be OK except for clumps damaged by the weight of wet snow. I believe those clumps will gradually recoup as new fronds emerge to replace the ones that broke under the snow.
14. How long before these petite clumps of snow fall to the ground?
After that snowstorm, another bout of cabin fever hit me so I made my way to Deception Pass State Park at a snail’s pace. The parking lot hadn’t been plowed but since it’s on a busy inter-island thoroughfare (and maybe because there are restrooms there), vehicles had been driving into the lot, leaving deep tracks in the slushy snow. I steered my little car along the tracks, stopped, and got out. The staircase under the bridge had been trampled just enough – I could walk down the stairs while clutching the railing (and feeling thankful for waterproof boots). Under the bridge is a network of trails that traces the forested edges of Deception Pass. Only a dusting of snow had filtered down through the thick canopy of trees there. The path was easy to follow but it was dark and cold in the woods. Again, I didn’t last long but just being in the woods, gratefully breathing fresh air, was a treat. A tiny mouse raced past me, oblivious to my presence. He pawed at the snow, searching for food, and then ran off into the dark woods. I thought about my warm home….
15. The forest is dark on a perimeter trail at Deception Pass State Park.
16. Last year’s Ocean Spray flower (Holodiscus discolor) drips with melting ice and snow.
17. The water racing through the pass that day was a cheerful turquoise color, and the view through the tall trees across to Pass Island was delightful.
18. The leathery, evergreen leaves of Salal (Gaultheria shallon) cheer up the forest floor in winter. The orange leaves are dead Redcedar leaves from the drought we had last summer. All the snow we’re getting now will help prevent drought in the months ahead.
19. The mouse. I enlarged and lightened the photo as much as I could, and it’s still hard to see him…that mouse was tiny!
Steps away from the parking lot is the Deception Pass bridge, which has a pedestrian walkway. It’s usually a spectacular view from the bridge, high over the rushing water, but on that day the view was reduced by moisture still hanging in the air. Far out on the water I could barely make out some cormorants, gulls, a few seals, and one sea lion – all working hard for their living.
20. Snow on the rocks below the bridge at Deception Pass.
21. North Beach from the Deception Pass bridge. No one walks the beach on this snowy day.
22. A phone photo taken on the road home that day.
One day I ventured off the island to Mount Vernon, a small city with a good food cooperative where I like to shop. On the way I passed acres of fallow, snowy fields. The sun is bright out on Skagit Flats. The orderly rows of crops with their striped furrows converging on the horizon was pleasing to see.
23. A bus for migrant workers sits in the field, waiting for Spring. It looks like this is one of Skagit Valley’s famous tulip fields – you can see them coming up. The snow won’t bother them a bit.
24. Afternoon sun throws a maze of shadows on a farm building.
The snow has melted a little now, but it’s still below freezing at night and not much above freezing during the day. Friday I took a walk at Bowman Bay, part of Deception Pass State Park. I lingered on the trail until sunset. The tide was out and a lone Great blue heron was busy foraging in the quietly lapping waves. The sun felt good.
25. A Great blue heron picks its way through the riches of low tide.
***
Unseasonable and Unreasonable Yes, it's word play, but seriously, the unseasonably cold weather here in the Pacific northwest seems thoroughly unreasonable, to me at least.
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Happy 18th birthday to the most upsetting baseball game of all time
The worst sports night of my entire life began with Dave Burba slopping what I can only assume was his take on a cut fastball a few inches off the plate away. Ichiro was at bat, Mark McLemore on deck, the twilight was falling on a beautiful Ohio evening, and the Cleveland Indians were hosting the 80-31 Seattle Mariners.
I’d never seen the Mariners on television before. I moved to Seattle when I was 10 and was a boring enough child to fall in love with baseball upon being dragged to the Kingdome for the first time. Thanks to the vagaries of cable, however, I had to follow my team via radio and once-yearly excursions to the ballpark. That’s not necessarily a bad thing when you have Dave Neihaus guiding you through your favorite team’s golden age*, but it did leave me starved for non-aural baseball.
*As it turns out, 1995-2003 was also the Mariners’ only non-fecal age.
So starved, in fact, every time Seattle made it to a national broadcast, I would try to watch. And every time, for literally years, I’d get notified that, so sorry, your game has been blacked out. Until, suddenly, on Aug. 5, 2001, it worked. I was baffled by this turn of events, of course, but decided to take it as a note of benevolence from a higher power, and settled in to watch.
Pitch number two was in more or less the same place as Burba’s first offering. Three was an 84-mph fastball down the middle that Ichiro apparently thought would be too embarrassing to hit, a decision which cost him when he was called out on strikes a few pitches later. So far so bad, a younger, more innocent me must have thought.
The 2001 Indians were a good team and could pitch. A little bit. Bartolo Colon was in his intimidating pomp, and the arrival of rookie left-hander C.C. Sabathia helped give their rotation a one-two punch which was entirely irrelevant when Burba (or anyone else — Cleveland essentially ran a AAA rotation beyond the big two) was on the mound. At his best, Burba was slightly better than pure filler, but at 34 he was no longer at his best, and he was going up against a Mariners team that was set to absolutely torch him. Now he was up against Mark McLemore, who struck out too. Then Edgar Martinez chopped out to third.
If you follow baseball, you’re probably aware of this game, at least tangentially. And therefore you’re aware that this was something more disastrous than what was threatened in the top of the first: a mediocre pitcher chewing his way through a very good lineup. That’s a bad day, but not a traumatic one. Four batters into the game, when Kenny Lofton cracked a ground ball single back through the box, and hard, I feared a bad day. How disappointing it would be to have my first televised Mariners experience be a frustrating loss!
Aaron Sele wriggled his way out of the bottom of the first, which gives me a good opportunity to drop in this still from a between-innings commercial:
I think Pontiac would have been proud of how they’ve shaped modern society.
The Mariners scored four times in the top of the second. Two ill-considered dives produced a pair of hustle doubles, sandwiched around a Mike Cameron blast which bounced off the wall but would have gone about 20 rows deep if he’d been hitting the 2019 baseball. Ichiro then plated a pair with a delicate lob to left. Seattle was rolling, and I was happy.
I was still happier after the third. That inning went something like this:
Single
Single
Single
Double
Single
Single
Hit By Pitch
Sacrifice Fly
Walk
Error
Single
Strikeout
Lineout
It was worth eight runs and took the score to 12-0. No baseball team in history had ever come back from a 12-run deficit. The Indians, who’d already been beaten twice at home by Seattle that weekend and were starting to look in trouble in the AL Central race, were staring at a blowout. No baseball team in history had ever come back from a 12-run deficit.
Then one did. This game is in the record books as the greatest comeback of all time, the one in which Cleveland clawed their way back from a ludicrous deficit to win the game in extras. Blowing a 12-run lead over any length of time is difficult enough, but the sheer scope of the Mariners’ collapse is extraordinary. The teams each scored two runs in the middle innings, leaving the score at 14-2 during the seventh-inning stretch. The Indians had to compress history (and, for me, misery) into three innings.
They did so without the heart of their fearsome batting order. By the time the comeback began, both lineups had seen a slew of changes. Ichiro, Martinez, and Olerud were on the bench, as were Alomar, Juan Gonzalez, and Ellis Burks. The only really dangerous bats left available to either team were Jim Thome and Bret Boone, and the latter had been given the day off anyway. Despite the two clubs sending seven hitters to the 2001 MLB All-Star game, only Mike Cameron played the full 11 innings of what was to prove one of the most memorable games of the decade.
Anyway. By the middle of the seventh, I was in a pretty good mood. I was getting to watch (not listen!) to one of the greatest teams of all time kick the ever-loving shit out of some pretty capable opposition, and although it was a little annoying that most of the big bats were out of the game, all the Mariners needed to do to ensure my evening finished happily was not blow a 12-run lead.
AN ASIDE: Whatever happened to this dude? Did we lose him during our difficult transition to being a civilization of Mango Freaks?
END ASIDE
Through six innings, Sele had given up six hits, a walk, and two runs. Russell Branyan, on for Burks, greeted him with a screaming line drive into the right centre field seats. 14-3. The comeback was on. Only, it didn’t really look it. Two batters later and the Indians needed 11 runs to tie the game, and had seven outs to do it. Solo home runs weren’t going to do it.
If we had to pick a turning point, the plate appearance which made all that followed possible, it might be Lofton’s walk. With two outs, Einar Diaz smacked a two-hopper up the middle and well out of Carlos Guillen’s reach, but Sele was still cruising and quickly got Lofton 0-2 thanks to a generous called strike and a foul ball. One more strike would have sent the Indians into the eighth inning in an (even more) impossible hole. Sele threw exactly zero more strikes.
Lofton took four straight fastballs away. None of them were close. Omar Vizquel followed that up with a four-pitch walk, and suddenly Sele, who averaged just 2.1 walks per nine innings for the entire 2001 season, had walked the bases loaded. The clouds were gathering. Lou Piniella seeded them further by going to blowout specialist John Halama.
Halama, part of the return for Randy Johnson in 1998, was a terrible pitcher, AAA no-hitter aside. He somehow logged 110 innings for the 2001 Mariners, which is remarkable considering he didn’t strike anyone out and got absolutely blitzed by opposing hitters. The ‘01 Mariners had one of the strongest bullpens ever assembled, headlined by Kazuhiro Sasaki, Arthur Rhodes, and Jeff Nelson. Even the best bullpens, however, have their fair share of dreck. With an 11-run cushion and someone named Jolbert Cabrera at the plate, dreck should have been fine.
It was not fine. Cabrera took a big swing on a changeup away, and yanked the ball into left. That fooled Martin, who froze, took a step backwards and then charged in, allowing the ball to drop a step or two in front of him. Two runs would score, and the seventh inning ultimately ended, 14-5.
The Mariners’ bats seem to have considered their job done. After the fifth, they went a combined 3-18, with three singles. Having scored 14 runs in that early blitz, they quite reasonably went into cruise control. They’d never come back out.
Meanwhile, the Indians were treating Halama like a piñata. Thome, whose two-run home run in the fourth got Cleveland on the board, flipped a 2-1 “fastball” into the left field corner for another homer. 14-6. Marty Cordova joined him in the home run parade after a Branyan hit-by-pitch — 14-8. Suddenly the game was within reach, and after a pair of singles Halama was done. Norm Charlton was called in from the pen.
Charlton wasn’t one of the big three Mariners relievers, but he wasn’t bad either, and Piniella would have been expecting him to hold down a six-run lead even in a tricky spot. He probably should have, too. Vizquel was jammed on a 95-mph fastball away, but he somehow kept it fair and the ball looped down the left field line for a double and a 14-9 score. The Mariners then got a break in this breakless of games — Lofton misread a ball which bounced off Tom Lampkin’s right leg and was thrown out trying to score, which allowed Charlton to escape to the ninth with a five-run lead.
I didn’t yet know to be nervous. Eighteen years ago, the Seattle Mariners were not the Seattle Mariners™. They had not yet become the unbridled force for misery which has shaped the way I look at sports. Their playoff drought was zero years. They had reached the ALCS in 2000, they would again in 2001. They were phenomenal, and I expected them to win more or less whenever they played, whatever the situation. And when they lost ... well, that happened. I suppose. Infrequently.
Ed Taubensee led off the bottom of the ninth with a single. With Thome and Branyan next up, the situation looked perilous, but Charlton made quick work of them. Two outs, down five, and a runner on first? That should have been game over. Then the wheels really came off.
I hadn’t watched this inning since I saw the calamity unfold live, but it’s seared into my memory regardless. Cordova absolutely crushed a pitch off the left-field wall to knock Charlton out of the game. Nelson was summoned. He got Wil Cordero to 3-2, then struck him out looking on a wicked slider:
Well, he should have struck him out with that slider. Instead was called ball four. Missed calls have been more egregious, of course, but this one had a profound effect on my young psyche, for six pitches later Nelson himself was knocked out of the game by a line drive into left off Diaz’s bat — 14-11. Suddenly it was a save situation, and it was clear to teenage me that something had gone terribly wrong.
I was ‘watching’ with my hands over my eyes as Lofton scooched a single past David Bell to bring up the go-ahead run in Vizquel. Not a soul in Jacobs Field was sitting down. This was it. Sasaki started Vizquel off with a splitter that he swung over for strike one. A second splitter followed, well out of the zone. The battle would end up lasting some time.
Baseball is a sport devoted to tension. Stress is the soul of the game and has been since the foul-ball rules were finalized. In a sport with a clock, key moments are just that: moments. They come, they go, they are finished with and done in a flash. Baseball stretches its moments and its fans to a breaking point. I am reliably informed that during Vizquel’s at-bat I was having what looked like a small seizure. All I really remember is the creeping horror, every pitch promising redemption or catastrophe but only serving to prolong the moment and ratchet up the stress.
Sasaki’s fifth pitch to Vizquel was a 91-mph fastball down the middle and at the knees, called a ball for reasons I suspect are related to the will of some malevolent deity. Pitch six was just about fouled off, an emergency swing sending a splitter trickling off behind home plate. Pitch seven was popped into the stands on the third base side. And then pitch eight was guided by the despotic hand of fate onto the label of Vizquel’s bat.
The subsequent weak grounder was perfectly placed, right down the first base line. Ed Sprague was a) playing in and b) not John Olerud, so his desperate dive ended in failure. Lofton was 34, and not as fast as he once was, but the ball was so well-placed — and the Mariners’ defense so thoroughly depleted — that he scored from first with 40 feet to spare. 14-14. Tie game.
For some reason I watched to the bitter end, even though extra innings were essentially and entirely denouement. Cleveland had already won the game by drawing level, and the Mariners had already lost it by blowing the biggest lead in MLB history. Cabrera’s walk-off single in the bottom of the 11th marked only the final blow in a disaster that had already unfolded.
Eighteen years later, this still haunts me. Not like it did then, when it was merely a humiliation, a nationally televised scandal of a game in what was otherwise an enormously successful season. But now, with the Mariners mired in year after year of pain, when the organization considers mediocrity aspirational, it’s hard not to see this as a harbinger of the misery to come, an early visitation of the Mariners in their true colors.
Sometimes I wonder if the current incarnation of the team, the one slowly draining the hope out of my fandom since 2004, is somehow inhabited by the ghost of Aug. 5. It’s ridiculous, of course — a single game, record books or not, has no bearing whatsoever on the standings 18 years later.
But. Still. What if?
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Ramblings: Goalies again – lots of goalie chatter. Also Nylander, Neal, Aberg and more (Dec 3)
Ramblings: Goalies again – lots of goalie chatter. Also Nylander, Neal, Aberg and more (Dec 3)
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In fantasy hockey, goaltending is key. Goaltending is also the Achilles heel. There are literally only five or six goaltenders you can count on today that you know* will be helpful two seasons from now. The rest are on a dart board and you hope you have the guy that the right dart lands on. The best you can do is go after the ones with the best opportunity and follow the contract. Teams are amazingly loyal if a goalie gets that Golden Boy status – and that happens if he’s a high pick, signed to a high contract or a big asset was coughed up for him.
If you have a Top 30 list of the goalies getting the most fantasy points, and a Top 30 list of the actual talented goalies, those are two completely different lists. And in fact, 10 of those goalies that are on one list won’t be on another. The Blues are following Jake Allen right into the black hole. The Sharks are doing the same with Martin Jones. The Oilers will do the same with Cam Talbot and the Penguins with Matt Murray. The loyalty lasts as long as two-plus seasons, or even longer depending on just how bad things get. But all we can do is follow the opportunity, regardless of how we feel about the goalie’s actual talent.
This is my long-winded way of saying – if you went after Scott Darling a year-and-a-half ago, you made the right move. Myself, I didn’t go after him hard as I didn’t like his talent at all, only his opportunity and contract, but I certainly would have loved for him to fall into my lap. Getting him was the right move. He started 47 games for Carolina – that means that after 46 portions of a dog’s breakfast that he served up, they still gave him another start. And this is an example of a team giving up on him quickly – most teams would keep trying until 100 games or more (ahem, Allen) of futility. In advance, if you tell me that Goalie X is going to get 30 starts over the next 40 games I am going to be interested in owning Goalie X 10 times out of 10.
*
Side note (but related): my confidence in Matt Murray getting his act together and becoming a good starter sits at 99% due to the above Golden Boy rule and ongoing opportunities. My confidence in Cam Talbot getting his act together sits at 85% because he’s struggled a little longer (twins still keeping him up at night? Exhausted wife?), and because his contract actually runs out soon. But I harken back to when he first arrived in Edmonton and “lost” the starting role by late November to a red-hot Anders Nilsson. He got the job back then and he’ll get the job back now.
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Early in the season when he was off to a great start I mentioned Jakob Silfverberg as my favorite breakout candidate (actually mentioned this in the summer a lot, too). But man, he relies on his linemates. As in – a lot. He clicked with Ryan Kesler and had some good seasons that way, but that’s when Kesler was good. And without Kesler, Silfverberg’s numbers suffered. Well, his great start was due to a combination of being in his prime now and clicking really well with the talented Max Comtois. As a Silf owners in one league, I was happy when Comtois’ injury was over with…and then crushed when Comtois was sent to junior. Now Silfverberg has fallen off the map. Because not only is he back on a line with Kesler – but Kesler is now an anchor offensively with just 19 points in his last 68 games. It’s like being paired with two enforcers, for all the offense that Kesler and Andrew Cogliano offer to Silfverberg. When, and I do mean when, Silfverberg gets a bloated contract somewhere else next summer, it will be interesting to see how well he does with talented linemates. He relies on them, sure, but when he actually gets them he’ll put points on the board.
*
Michael Grabner suffered what, in looking at the picture circulating Twitter Sunday, appears to be pretty devastating and he is out indefinitely. Not to be morbid and to just gloss over that, but sliding my fantasy hockey hat back on I like how this shakes up the Vinnie Hinostroza line. Perhaps Vinnie gets another chance with a quality winger and center (and sheds his other linemate, Brad Richardson, in the process). Hinostroza has 12 points in his last 21 games and points in each of his last two. Not great, but after Clayton Keller and Nick Schmaltz he’s been the next best forward. His points-per-60 is 1.9.
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William Nylander has signed, as you well know, and he signed at a number that was higher than what was rumored to be his asking price – and definitely higher than what we heard was the rumored offer. This is a shocking loss by Kyle Dubas and I can’t help but think there will be more to this and that the book has not closed. Yes, signing Nylander late means that the cap hit will be much higher now (over $10.2) for this season. And yes, that will mean that his salary will be hard to move. But not impossible. And I am almost certain that Nylander will be traded before next October. For what it’s worth, Arizona, Philadelphia, Colorado, New Jersey and Carolina have the cap space and are a trade fit in terms of giving up a defenseman. In the book The Score Takes Care of Itself by Bill Walsh, Walsh was quick to trade away any disruptions to the team or to his overall philosophy and long-term winning strategy. Dubas truly respects what that book has to say and I really don’t think we’ve seen the end of Nylander-gate.
*
Nikita Scherbak getting claimed by the Kings is an interesting one. I still respect Scherbak’s skill set and I think he has scoring-line upside, but that upside has seriously eroded thanks to all the injuries that have retarded his development. A prospect can only miss so much action during key years before it takes a bite out of what they can do in the future. I doubt the Kings can coax any of that out of him, but I always root for the player. The bigger name prospects who get waived and then claimed almost always fail. We, as fantasy owners, still get excited over the claims because it offers a glimmer of hope. But really – it’s only a glimmer. Valentin Zykov is another example – I hope for the best, I think if given a chance he could do well, but in the end my money is on failure. And with Zykov it’s a damn shame because we’re literally two months after calling him one of our favorite sleeper picks.
Another point on Zykov – the Oilers gave up Ryan Strome for another Zykov, but in that case his name is Ryan Spooner. To give up an asset to acquire a skill set…and then a couple weeks later acquire that skill set for free, seems short-sighted.
*
With 26 minutes left in regulation the Ducks were losing 5-1. They scored five times in 21 minutes to win it. Braden Holtby just folded like a cheap tent, giving up the five goals on just 10 or 11 shots (not exactly sure). Holtby had been playing well lately though, winning five in a row, so not really sure what happened other than perhaps fatigue.
Pontus Aberg tallied three points and has six in four games still playing with Ryan Getzlaf and Rickard Rakell. It’s time to start taking this guy seriously now. He’s streaky, but as long as Randy Carlyle is coaching (ahem), it looks as though Aberg will stay on that line even if his cold drought lasts a dozen games. We just saw it happen – four points in 12 games (before the six in four) and still stayed on that line.
*
Josh Morrissey, as told here dozens of times, is the recipient of the bulk of the PP time with Dustin Byfuglien out. But Jacob Trouba won’t be ignored either. In the five games that Big Buff has missed so far, Morrissey has seen 59.5%, 66%, 84.5%, 50% and 58% of the available PP time. Generally speaking, Morrissey gets about 30% in the games that Byfuglien plays. Morrissey has tallied five points in those five games, with three of them coming on the power play. He has definitely made him case as the heir apparent for that big PP slot and could probably start taking it over on Buff sooner rather than later.
Meanwhile, Trouba usually sees minimal PP time (this year). But while Buff is sidelined he has seen 0%, 0%, 15.5%, 50% and 42%. No PPPts (none on the season overall, in fact), but something has sparked him as he has four points in the last three games during Byfuglien’s second injury stint. He’s still paired with Morrissey at even strength, so perhaps he’s just feeding off the hot hand that Morrissey is wielding coming off the power play. Regardless, an injured Byfuglien means a productive Morrissey and Trouba.
Mark Scheifele has marched into the NHL’s Top 10 in scoring 19 points in his last 12 contests. He has 14 SOG in his last three games.
A couple people tweeted to me their concern about Connor Hellebuyck yesterday, and wondered if I still rank him in the top-two on my keeper goalie list. In short: yes. And I think with goaltenders you can’t be emotional about their roller coaster rides. The Jets aren’t going to get worse over the next couple of years, they’re only going to get better. Hellebuyck is making $6.2 million per year for the next six seasons. Even if he Martin Joneses his way through games, he’s still going to get lots of W’s. I happen to think he won’t suck, but even if he does – the wins will be there. I’m not even looking at his peripheral stats right now since the W’s are still happening – I’ll worry about the lack of quality starts after another 20 games. Fantasy owners like to micro-manage and tend to panic quickly. And if your league counts SV% and GAA and he’s hurting you more than the wins can help, what are you going to do – drop him? Trade him for a lesser goalie who is currently doing better? I don’t think that’s wise.
*
I make a Martin Jones sucks joke the night he makes 40 saves on 41 shots, but I stand by it! He’ll get the W’s as long as the Sharks a good (that clock is actually ticking though), but his peripherals will never be great.
Evander Kane has six points in his last 18 games. He’s playing with the Twin Finns Joonas Donskoi and Antti Suomela.
*
Mikko Rantanen, Nathan MacKinnon and Gabriel Landeskog are unstoppable. I’m going to stop checking Colorado summaries. If it’s 3-0 then MacKinnon and Rantanen have three points each, Landeskog with two. If it’s 5-4, then MacKinnon and Rantanen enjoyed five-point nights. There, I just became more efficient – no more Colorado box scores.
It’s worth noting that Semyon Varlamov is 6-0-1 in his last seven, and his SV% is 0.925%. Contract Year 101. If only Cam Talbot and Sergei Bobrovsky would pay attention in class.
*
Vancouver placed Brendan Leipsic on waivers. An interesting name that I hope gets claimed (there’s that “glimmer of hope” crap again)
*
Unless James Neal gets traded, and that’s doubtful because they just signed him, he is not going to get better. His production is shot, his ice time is low, his linemates are weak and there is no reason to believe any of this will change. Plus, he’s a Band-Aid Boy and he hasn’t had his regularly scheduled injury yet. In case you were holding onto some hope for him and just needed a nudge, there it is. Nudge. He picked up a point Sunday, but it was a secondary assist and it was on the power play when the Flames spent half the game on the power play. Not really a scenario where you can expect points to come flying in regularly.
My law of starting goaltenders is beginning to bear fruit with Mike Smith, who has won his last three starts and has allowed four goals on 67 shots (22.3 shots per game so the team is coming together for him now, too).
*
Henri Jokiharju saw 5:11 on the power play Sunday and came up empty, including zero shots. He has three points in his last 14 games, but is “the guy” on the power play for Chicago under the new coach so don’t give up on him just yet.
*
See you next Monday.
*We don’t really know, who are we kidding? We thought we knew about Carey Price and well, here we are.
from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-rambling/ramblings-goalies-again-lots-of-goalie-chatter-also-nylander-neal-aberg-and-more-dec-3/
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my mom thinks i'm funny
themotorcycleonthemoon
A Certain Starlight
ladyofstardust
Janet tied her kirtle green