SportsTrax – the little mobile device that (almost) could

In 1994, the Toronto Blue Jays introduced a revolutionary concept: SportsTrax, a mobile device that gave you more-or-less real time updates on all games the Jays played. Using the same technology as an LCD pager, it would display runners on base and, of course, outs, inning, runs, hits and errors. If you turned the sound up, it would even cheer, boo and jeer plays as they happened. TV ads for it featuring Cito Gaston and BJ Birdy aired on TSN.

Manufactured by Motorola, it really was a cool idea. At a time when the internet was more novelty than necessity, real-time information about sporting events was hard to come by; either you watched on TV (if the game was even broadcast; most major cities only had one sports channel in those days), sat glued to the radio, or waited until the next day and read about it on the sports page.

Under the hood, SportsTrax was actually pretty primitive: a new startup called “Sports Teams Analysis Tracking Systems” (perhaps you’ve since heard of them; STATS, Inc, anyone?) hired people to watch the games, and then input what they’d just seen to Motorola’s satellite uplink.

The Blue Jays were (very) early adopters; for 149.00 you got unlimited data (Motorola estimated that it would be about 3 years ’til the little guy was outpaced by newer technologies) for the life of the device.

So why didn’t it catch on? Well, for one thing, 149.00 was a lot of money 25 years ago. I, with a young family, certainly couldn’t have justified the expense. Motorola projected sales of 50,000 in the first year; I’d be surprised if they managed 10% of that.

The other thing that happened was the NBA. Motorola wanted to bring their technology to pro basketball. When talks broke down, they went ahead anyway and, in 1996, David Stern & Co. sued.

“The National Basketball Association v. Sports Teams Analysis Tracking Systems, aka STATS, Inc.” (now more commonly referred to as NBA v. Motorola) became a landmark intellectual property rights case in American sport.

The NBA asserted that Motorola’s product constituted a live broadcast and, as such, was proprietary information, only available to licensed broadcasters (you’ve all heard the blurb during every sports broadcast).

Motorola and STATS contended that the data they were providing was just factual information, available to anyone. Blow-by-blow game accounts were available the next morning in every newspaper; SportsTrax just sped up the process.

Though a lower court granted an injunction, in 1997, the NY State 2nd Circuit appellate overturned it, finding that, “(1) Sports Trax is not a substitute for the product offered by the NBA — being at the game or watching it on television — and (2) there was no “free-riding” because STATS and Motorola expended their own resources to collect the factual information (broadcast to the public via television or radio) which they then disseminated.” In this case, SportsTrax’ primitiveness helped it survive.

Of course, by 1997, SportsTrax was pretty much obsolete, anyway. More and more families now had internet connectivity, and new TV sports channels were springing up  (seemingly) every week.

The corollary here is that these initial forays into this brave new world forced sports leagues to meet new technologies and platforms head on; in 2000, Major League Baseball started Major League Baseball Advanced Media (MLBAM), to oversee all online and mobile applications. After some initial teething problems, BAM generated US$620 million in revenues for its member clubs in 2012.

That said, every time that you see a crawler showing live updates of one sport while you’re watching another, you can (indirectly) thank Motorola’s fight with the NBA.

 

That Ballpark on the Lake Shore – The Toronto Maple Leafs Baseball Club & Stadium 1895-1967

Early Days

In 1895, the Toronto Base Ball Club became a charter member of the old Eastern League. For the first five years, they used the nickname “Canucks“. In 1899, they decided to try the name “Maple Leafs” on for size. In 1902, that became the team’s official nickname. “Like the hockey team!” I hear you exclaim. Actually, early in the 20th century, the professional hockey team in Toronto played under various handles (Blueshirts, Arenas, St. Patricks). They didn’t start using the moniker “Leafs” until Conn Smythe bought the team in 1927. By that time, the baseball club had used that name for a quarter-century.

Though the official Minor League level designations that we’re used to nowadays didn’t exist then, the Eastern League was regarded as Class “A” ball; at the time, one level below the majors. When it was decided to have a level above that (“AA”) in 1912 , the Eastern League (and the Leafs) moved up. Now renamed the “International League“, they would stay there until the end of World War II.

Starting in 1897, the team played their home games at Hanlan’s Point Stadium on the Toronto Islands. The stadium there burned down in 1909, and was replaced by a larger concrete structure the following year. It was in this ballpark that a visiting player, a 19-year-old lad named George Herman “Babe” Ruth, both pitched a shutout and hit a home run into Toronto Harbour on September 5, 1914.

The New Jewel of a Ballpark

Long dingers weren’t the only thing that Hanlan’s Point couldn’t contain; by the early 20’s, baseball’s increasing popularity meant that the Leafs needed a new home. In 1926, they got one; Maple Leaf Stadium, a brand new 23,000-seat facility at the foot of Bathurst Street on the south side of Fleet Street (now Lake Shore Boulevard).

Aerial view of Maple Leaf Stadium, clearly showing its location between the (now) Omni TV building, and the Tip Top Tailors building.

 

Designed by Chapman, Oxley and Bishop (the same architects that crafted such Toronto landmarks as the Sunnyside Bathing Pavilion, the Palais Royale and the Prince’s Gate at the Canadian National Exhibition), it was a fine example of a single-tier “jewel box”-style stadium, as the ornate concrete stadia of the early 20th century are sometimes called.

 

The team, and its ballpark, suffered the ups and downs of the next twenty years; the Great Depression, which severely affected attendance, and the Second World War, which sent both fans and players overseas on active duty. These upheavals almost caused several Major League teams to go under, and the trickle-down effect in the minor leagues was more severe. The dire economic situation  did, however, spawn one innovation; direct affiliations between Major League and Minor League teams. In St. Louis, General Manager Branch Rickey astutely realized that rather than buy the best players from minor league clubs for top dollar,  it actually made economic sense to control several minor league teams and develop talent yourself. You can then promote the good players, and release the rest. Rickey’s “Gas House Gang”  Cardinals of the 1930’s pointed the way; the other Major League teams could not help but follow.

In 1946, minor-league levels were adjusted again. The new top tier  was “AAA”, and three existing leagues were given that designation; The Pacific Coast League (on the West Coast), The American Association (the Midwest) and, of course, the Leafs’ home, The International League (the Great Lakes and Eastern Seaboard). By this time, more & more Major League teams had embraced Rickey’s idea of a “farm system” but, rather than buy an interest in a minor-league team, signed their affiliates to a new kind of agreement called a “Player Development Contract“, giving them exclusive control over a minor league team’s roster for a defined period.  Teams that embraced this system (especially the Cardinals, Yankees and Dodgers) thrived in the post-war period.

1946 was a landmark year in another sense; it was the first year of integration in the IL, as Jackie Robinson joined the Leafs’ Canadian IL rivals, the Montreal Royals.

New Ownership, New Success

In 1951, media mogul Jack Kent Cooke purchased the team. Cooke had made his fortune

Cooke, right, switches hats with team manager Joe Becker

 

buying & selling radio stations and newspapers throughout eastern Canada. Like Bill Veeck, he understood the value of appealing to the casual fan; he began staging almost as long a list of promotions and celebrity appearances as Veeck was in St. Louis. Cooke was quick to share his strategies with the rest of the IL, realizing that a strong league meant greater stability for all. His efforts earned him a “Minor League Executive of the Year” award from The Sporting News.

Though he did have a player development contract with Veeck’s Browns in the early ’50’s, Cooke soon returned to the old ways; developing young players, picking up other teams’ reclamation projects, and selling the result on to the highest bidder. For a time, it gave them  a real edge in the IL; Toronto finished either first or second in the league every year from 1954-58.

The final days of the glory years: May 1961.

Alas, Cooke’s other interests began to interfere with the ballclub. in 1960, he was denied a license to operate the first privately-owned TV station in Toronto (the license ultimately went to Cooke’s rival, Ted Rogers, who launched CFTO-TV).

Within weeks, Cooke  had applied for US citizenship. He moved to Washington, DC and started to sell off his Canadian assets. Relocation only seemed to whet his appetite for sports ownership; in 1961, he bought a 25% stake in the Washington Redskins.  In 1965, he bought the Los Angeles Lakers outright and then, in 1966, after being awarded the NHL‘s expansion franchise for LA, built the Los Angeles Forum in the suburb of Inglewood to house both the Kings and the Lakers.

Decline and Fall

Though Cooke retained an interest in the Leafs until 1964, the writing was on the wall. The old stadium was beginning to show its age, and no-one wanted to pony up for the necessary repairs. There was a drive for public ownership but, with Toronto now seeing itself as a “Major League” city (and with Major League Baseball  now regularly available on network TV), minor league ball seemed a quaint anachronism.

After the 1967 season, the team was purchased by real estate developer Walter Dilbeck, who moved the operation to Louisville, Kentucky and renamed them the Colonels. The club moved again in 1973, this time, to Pawtucket, Rhode Island. Renamed the Pawtucket Red Sox, they continue to operate there to this day.

The Jewel of a ballpark, neglected since the mid-fifties, never saw another ballgame. In 1968, Maple Leaf Stadium fell to the wrecker’s ball.

William Louis “Bill” Veeck, Jr. IV – Go-Go Sox! – 1959-61 and 1975-81

Of course, Veeck was going to have another stab at ownership, as soon as one presented itself. On the south side of Chicago, a family feud between Charles Comiskey’s heirs did exactly that. Comiskey’s widow had died in 1956, and ownership of the White Sox was split unevenly between her children. The eldest daughter, Dorothy Rigney, held the majority position; the son, Charles Comiskey II, owned the rest. He ran day-to-day operations and, of course, bitterly resented deferring to his sister.

Veeck assembled yet another consortium to buy an option on Mrs. Rigney’s share of the Sox. In February, 1959, they exercised that option, and Veeck once again had a controlling interest in a Major League ballclub.

Chuck Comiskey, understandably, went ballistic; he’d had control of the club ripped from

Strange bedfellows: Chuck Comiskey (left) and Veeck.

under him. He refused to sign any cheques written by Veeck. Veeck invited reporters in the press box to have 54% (his share) of a cup of coffee on him.

This time around, the one thing Veeck didn’t have to tinker much with was the team on the field. In the slugging American League, home to Kaline, Killebrew, Mantle and Maris, the Chicago White Sox were literally running circles around the opposition; speed-and-defense players like Luis Aparicio, Nellie Fox and Minnie Minoso were confounding conventional wisdom and, not coincidentally, winning…a LOT. In the first year of Veeck ownership, the “Go-Go Sox” won the World Series, leading to this awkward photo of Veeck and Chuck Comiskey sharing a convertible in the victory parade.

Veeck was still up to his old promotional tricks, though. He invented the “exploding scoreboard” at Comiskey Park, with pinwheels, rockets and sound effects (a cavalry charge, gunfire, collisions) that went off any time the Sox did anything positive. He put player’s names on the backs of their jerseys, an innovation that persists to this day. And the giveaways just got more outrageous; live orchids on Mother’s Day. 1000 cans of beer. 1000 bottles of soda. 100 restaurant meals.

Despite setting team attendance records (1.6 million in 1960) failing health forced Veeck to sell his share to fellow consortium member Arthur Allyn, Jr. in 1961. Veeck retired, after a fashion; one of his first moves was to write an autobiography covering his years in baseball – “Veeck as in Wreck“, published in 1962. In it, he proffered such gems as “(Giants owner) Horace Stoneham is the dumbest man I ever met. He owns the most storied franchise in baseball. He has the best player in baseball (Willie Mays). He played in the #1 baseball city in the world (New York). So he has to move the team to San Francicso because he couldn’t make any money???” Veeck knew that, had he been given those kind of advantages, he’d be able to lap the field.

Curt Flood with attorney Arthur J. Goldberg, and MLB Player’s Assn. chief Marvin Miller.

 

Veeck’s sense of fair play was never far from the surface. In 1970, multiple-time All-Star and Gold Glove winner Curt Flood was rather unceremoniusly traded from the Cardinals, his home for twelve seasons, to Philadelphia, whose fans had a reputation for being unfairly hard on African-American players. Flood announced his retirement, then set about suing Major League Baseball and its teams, contending that no veteran player  should be traded or sold against his wishes. Curt ultimately lost Flood v. Kuhn, but Veeck testified on the plaintiff’s behalf, which made him even more of a pariah with the other owners.

Ultimately, Veeck couldn’t stay away. Ownership of the White Sox passed to Arthur Allyn’s brother, John. When John was near bankruptcy in 1975, Veeck pounced, with a consortium of more than 40 investors. Though the Lords of Baseball weren’t thrilled to have him back (they had to take multiple votes to confirm his readmission to their ranks), he was, just in time for Bicentennial. The promotions continued apace, including dressing the players in Bermuda shorts for warm-weather games.

Veeck’s return happened to coincide with the first Major League players being granted free agency. In some small way, he was a catalyst for that change, having testified on Curt Flood’s behalf, but now that the money was coming out of his pocket, he wasn’t happy about paying top dollar to hold on to his players. A younger, healthier Veeck would have welcomed the opportunity to outsmart his fellow owners in the free-agent market the way he had when fleecing them in trades, but it was not to be.

Though no longer an active participant, Veeck remained part of the ownership group until 1981. Bill continued his smoking and drinking ways untill 1980 but, by then, it was too late. He ultimately succumbed to lung cancer in 1986. His fellow owners, who had been his implacable opponents in life, elected him to the Baseball Hall of Fame five years later.

His son, Mike (who, incidentally, was the architect of “Disco Demolition Night” at Comiskey in 1979) carries on the Veeck tradition with the St. Paul Saints of the independent Northern League, where he is part of an ownership group that includes Bill Murray .

William Louis “Bill” Veeck, Jr. – Part III – Painting the town (ugh) BROWN…1951-53

After his success in Cleveland, it was inevitable that Veeck would find his way back into Major League ownership. It was also inevitable that his ticket back in would be another fire sale; in this case, the sad-sack St. Louis Browns, the second team in a one-team town.

The Browns were truly awful (c’mon, their logo was a BROWN-armoured knight on a BROWN charger) from all perspectives, complicated by the fact that they were landlords for the much-more-successful Cardinals; Branch Rickey had turned his “Gas House Gang” Cards of the 30’s into a dynasty before leaving for Brooklyn in 1942. The Browns were in such bad straits, the previous owner had tried to move the team to Los Angeles in 1941, but the lack of reliable commercial air travel made west coast road trips impossible for the rest of the league.

Veeck started by “de-Cardinalizing” Sportsmen’s Park – every nook and cranny had some Browns promotional piece or tribute to a former Browns player. He then started hiring former Cards to work for his club; Rogers Hornsby to manage the team, and Dizzy Dean as its radio voice (Dean, incidentally, had a difficult time transitioning to television when that innovation came along – the game Diz called was invariably more exciting than what was actually happening on the field!).

The Grandstand Managers have their say…

The Browns’ underdog status kicked Veeck’s promotional acumen into high gear. He signed 3-foot-seven inch Eddie Gaedel to a player’s contract in 1951. Eddie had one pinch-hit plate appearance, and was walked on four pitches – all high. He staged “Grandstand Manager’s Night”, in which fans were given “YES” or “NO” cue cards to hold up in response to strategy cards held up by Browns clubbies; “BUNT”, “STEAL”, “HIT & RUN”, etc. The fans won that game 5-3. And he brought back Satchel Paige, who was now 45, for another, less successful, fling.

 

For a time, Veeck’s strategy seemed to be working, especially when Cards owner Fred Saigh was convicted of tax fraud and forced to sell the team (remember when there were actual penalties for rich people who avoided paying tax?) The Cardinals were on the verge of moving to Houston when August Anheuser “Gussie” Busch, Jr., whose family owned the Anheuser-Busch (Budweiser) brewing empire, stepped in and bought the team to keep the Cards in St. Louis.

Veeck knew he was licked. He sold Sportsmen’s Park to Anheuser-Busch to cover his existing debtload and looked for a new city for his team. The fans saw him as a carpetbagger and stayed away in droves and the other owners, fed up with what they saw as his “bush league” promotional antics, blocked the team moving anywhere unless Veeck sold his interest. Eventually, the team was sold to lawyer Clarence Miles, who moved them to Baltimore. There, of course, they became the Orioles.

William Louis “Bill” Veeck, Jr. – Part II – Social Justice and the Cleveland Indians – 1946-49

Veeck outside the Indians offices, 1947

Fresh out of the military, Veeck took his cash from the Brewers sale and realized his dream – ownership of a Major League Baseball team. Well, technically Major League; he bought the Cleveland Indians, who last won a pennant in 1920, and who played half their home games in ancient League Park, built in 1891.

Veeck had tried to buy the Philadelphia Phillies, who had filed for bankruptcy, in 1942, but rumours that he planned to restock the wartime-depleted Phils’ roster with Negro League players caused the sale to be blocked by Commissioner Landis and National League president Ford Frick.

Major League Baseball did finally integrate in 1947, when Jackie Robinson took the field for the Brooklyn Dodgers. What is less well-known is that Larry Doby was signed by Veeck in the summer of 1947, and made his debut mere weeks after Jackie, becoming the first African-American player in the American League. Manager Lou Boudreau took Doby around the Indians clubhouse and introduced him to his teammates. Any man who wouldn’t shake his hand was quickly traded or sold.

Veeck also signed the seemingly ageless Negro League star pitcher Satchel Paige, who,

Satch with Larry Doby

depending on who you believe, was somewhere between 38 and 47 years old in 1947 (Veeck’s own research seemed to indicate he was born July 7, 1906, which has since become the “official” date). Everyone around baseball was convinced that this was some sort of publicity stunt; well, everyone but Satch; he pitched 155 ⅔ innings, with a 2.78 ERA, in his two years with Cleveland. According to Veeck’s autobiography, “Veeck as in Wreck”, Paige apparently didn’t have a breaking pitch when he came to Cleveland; he had survived all those years in the Negro Leagues (and all those barnstorming tours against Major League All-Stars) with pinpoint control, the ability to change speeds, and a variety of deceptive deliveries.

Moving full-time into Cleveland Municipal Stadium, and broadcasting all of the team’s games on radio, allowed the Tribe to set an all-time Major League single season attendance record in 1948; 2.6 million, which would not be eclipsed until the Dodgers moved into Chavez Ravine in 1962. The uptick of bums in seats was also a result of a spectacular turnaround of the team’s on-field fortunes; the Tribe went 266-197 (.575 winning percentage) in 1946-49, and they beat the Boston Braves in 1948 for their first World Series victory in a generation.

However, all good things must come to an end, and so it was with Veeck and the Indians. Toward the end of his reign in Cleveland, he was involved in messy divorce proceedings from his first wife and, being that all his money was tied up in the ballclub, was forced to sell to pay the settlement. This might sound familiar to early 21st-century Dodgers fans…

William Louis “Bill” Veeck, Jr. 1914-1986

BIll Veeck in 1944

A true innovator, pioneer and maverick in the staid world of Major League Baseball. Known as “Sportshirt Bill”, because he never wore of a tie, he chain-smoked, drank martinis, and seemed not to understand the need for meals or sleep.

Bill’s father, Bill, Sr., was a sportswriter who later became president of the Chicago Cubs. Ever the dutiful son, Bill Jr. took after-school & summer employment with the team. As part of his duties as part-time groundskeeper, he planted the ivy that still grows on the outfield walls at Wrigley Field.

The younger Veeck bought the minor-league Milwaukee Brewers in 1941, mostly by assuming existing debt, but also starting a lifelong habit of trading with other people’s money (in this case, ex-Cub Charlie Grimm).

Paraphrasing Juvenal, the first-century Roman satirist, he said, “You can draw more people with a losing team plus bread and circuses than with a losing team and a long, still silence” and set about to prove it by staging every promotion that he could imagine, both outrageous (giving away live farm animals, staging weddings at home plate) and practical (scheduling morning games for fans coming off night shift – Milwaukee in the 40’s was smack-dab in the middle of America’s ndustrial heartland).

However, Bill also said, “There is no known substitute for winning, and no known cure for losing. We are dealing here only with remedial action.” By his astute horse-trading of players, the Brewers manged 3 Pacific Coast League pennants in the five years that they were owned by Veeck, which netted him a tidy profit of $275,000.00 when he sold the club.

Veeck joined the Marines in 1943, so he was in the South Pacific for two of those victories. His military service cost him his right leg, as the recoil from an artillery piece crushed it and necessitated amputation. He then had his prosthetic limb drilled out so that he could use it as an ashtray!

Part II of this story will follow in a day or two…

Baseball’s Dirty Words

This wouldn’t be happening on Marvin Miller’s watch.

Most baseball fans are aware that there are two words that should never be mentioned in polite company in conjunction with the sport; the “S” word (steroids), and the “C” word (collusion).

Interestingly, both have (indirectly) raised their ugly heads this offseason. With eight of the top ten free agent players sitting at home, unsigned, three weeks before training camps open, something certainly seems to be amiss. The fact of the matter seems to be that players who have reached that exalted status (free agency) are not being snapped up at the frenetic pace that was the norm in years past.

Where does the “S” word (steroids) come in? Well, there was a time, (say, 1995 -2006), when veteran players’ performance had seemingly stopped declining. Stars routinely played at a high level well into their 30’s, many signing more than one multi-year deal after becoming a free agent. There were many reasons; offseason training, nutrition, rest, advances in sports medicine, but the one that continued to raise its ugly head was PED’s. Regardless of how many players were suspended (or suspected), once testing came in (2006), player’s performance relative to age gradually returned to more normal levels.

This was the era in which big-money veteran contracts made the most sense; when a given level of performance from a veteran player could be relied upon for an extended period. In the decade or so following 2006, it seems a new era has dawned.

A test case, of sorts, may well have been seen last year, when Edwin Encarnacion turned down the multi-year offer made by the Toronto Blue Jays right after the 2016 postseason, expecting a bidding war between teams like the Red Sox (who had just lost David Ortiz to retirement) and the Yankees (who were finally out from under the mega-contracts due A-Rod, Carlos Beltran and Mark Texiera). Disappointed, Edwin ended up signing with Cleveland just before Christmas, for less than Toronto had offered.

In the past, teams would sign an aging free agent star for multiple years to take advantage of the first one or two seasons, when his production would still be close to its  peak. Now, it would seem, the clubs have decided that mortgaging their future to win now is folly, and are content to live and die by their young stars. Teams with stars signed to long-term deals are, in fact, now trading them away.

But is it the dreaded “C” word (collusion)? Have Major League teams just decided to employ enlightened self-interest? Are analytics departments, as first explored in “Moneyball“, just as effective at tracking the declining performance of veteran players as finding diamond-in-the rough Bush Leaguers ?

This is what the 30 Major League teams would have you believe. The message seems to be: “We’ve smartened up. We’re tired of overpaying for “veteran presence” and “good influence in the clubhouse” and all those other old bugaboos that were excuses for shelling out on a declining veteran player.”

And, to be fair, analytics do seem to be helping talent evaluation, at least at the amateur end of the scale. The days of first-round draft picks being complete busts, never making it to the majors at all, seem well behind us.

But ALL 30 TEAMS? It seems unlikely. It’s definitely not your father’s collusion. “Collusion” in the 1980’s sense meant (then-commissioner) Peter Uberroth ordering teams not to sign one another’s free agents, and then daring them to defy him. Now, if this is some form of the “C” word, it’s no longer about restricting player movement; it’s simply about suppressing salaries.

A majority of baseball’s brightest stars are now in the under-30 age bracket. These players, in addition to being young, are also cheap; most have yet to reach the six years’ service time necessary to test their value on the free agent market. This represents a double win for the club; a marketable star, with the attendant performance, at a bargain-basement price!

Will the cycle be broken? Well the second tenet of “Moneyball”, after embracing analytics, is not following convention. Billy Beane  made his reputation as much by zigging when everyone else zagged as he did by discovering new means of player evaluation. What if he, or someone like him, suddenly decided that the best bargains were still on the shelf, and convinced some significant free agents to take a flyer on a short-term deal and win one now, with him? It’s not beyond the realm of possibility, especially if said players are feeling vindictive after being shown such disrespect.

We shall see…

Launch Me Out to the Ball Game

Gregg Zaun has made much of the “new” Rogers Centre, but since he hardly ever posts to his blog, I figured I’d help him out a bit on mine.

The area formerly known as Windows restaurant.

For the uninitated, what’s happened is this; Windows, the restaurant that hung over centre field, and that was once a showpiece amenity for SkyDome, has been declining in popularity for several years. In order to get some of that appeal back (and to make it look like something other than a big empty restaurant smack-dab in the middle of the ballpark), Rogers brass decided to take all the glass out and convert it into a general admission, standing & sitting party area à la the Home Run Porch at Progressive Field. An admirable idea, to be sure, and one the younger fans (i.e. the ones who come to a ballpark to party) seem to be quite taken with.

Workers removing all that pesky glass.

The issue, however, is that removing all that glass seems to have done something to the game on the field.

SkyDome/Rogers Centre has always been a hitter’s park, not as extreme as some, but definitely built for the bat. I’ve seen park factors as high as 113 for the building over its existence; in layman’s terms, that means one could reasonably expect to see 13% more offense there than at a theoretically “average” Major League ballpark. 13 seems awfully high to me; Baseball Prospectus, whose numbers are universally respected, has Rogers Centre listed at an average of 103 for the past three seasons – a hitter’s park, but not terribly so.

Though it’s really too early to gather meaningful statistical data for this year (park factor, bercause it’s based on an average of all Major League ballparks, is a moving target; it literally changes with every game played), it seems that the ball is jumping off the bat in Toronto. In the first six games there have been  47 (!) extra-base hits, including 23 home runs. Add to that, the number of seemingly catchable fly balls that have dropped in for hits; Melky Cabrera, especially, seems to be taking some funky routes to fly balls; is it because  it’s hard to get a good read, or are the pitchers missing their spots by that much, or is the ball suddenly caught in some sort of jet stream that makes it change trajectory?

The one that really made me wonder was hit on opening day; R. A. Dickey gave up what looked like a routine flyball to Asdrubal Cabrera, and it kept going, and going, and going…and wound up being a two-run home run. Dickey just shook his head, and so did I.

Again, this represents an extremely small sample size, and they haven’t played one game with the lid open yet – it’s been too cold. But flyball pitchers (Mark Buehrle, for example) should be at least a little concerned. You’d hate to see Toronto get into that situation where free agent pitchers instruct their agents not to return your calls.

I don’t think there’s any suggestion that Toronto’s ballpark with the roof closed is functioning as a giant Tupperware container, where the ball changes its flight path every time someone opens an outside door on the 200 level. At this point, it’s just something to keep an eye on. I think we may review this topic sometime around the All-Star break.

Turf Me Out to the Ball Game

“I don’t know. I’ve never smoked the stuff”. – Tug McGraw, on artificial grass.

Just before the baseball season began, I happened across an interview with Paul Beeston on TV. One of the topics, which has been discussed for a couple of years now,  was replacing the artificial turf in the Rogers Centre with real grass which, Beeston assured us, was contemplated “for either the 2015 or 2016 season”.

I reflected on this a little bit, and realized that the SkyDome (as it was called when it was built) and the Florida Suncoast Dome (as it was called when it was built) are the only two Major League ballparks that still have an artifical playing surface. Of course, the FSD is now better known as Tropicana Field, home of the Tampa Bay Rays.

This is particularly amazing when you consider that every single Major League ballpark built between 1970 and 1991 was constructed with an artifical playing surface. Though that might seem like sacrilege from this perspective, you have to remember that this was the first generation of modern sports stadiums (I’m pretty sure the Colosseum in Rome was publicly funded) which were built with taxpayer’s money. Prior to that, each team owned its own ballpark.

With the enormous (or so it seemed at the time) public expenditure involved, each building had to be an all-purpose facility that could be utilized up to 200 mights a year; housing not just 81 baseball home games, but the local NFL team, and rock concerts, and tractor pulls, and politcal conventions, and whatever other use local promoters could dream up.Thus, the justification for using an artificial surface was essentially, “we need to be able to switch quickly between events, and having a playing surface you can swap out is the only way to do that”.

The Astrodome

The history of artificial turf is roughly thus: when Major League Baseball expanded to South Texas in 1962, it discovered that Texas heat and ravenous insects weren’t conducive to the grand pastoral game – more than once, a game had to be called on account of bugs. Judge Ray Hofheinz, the team’s principal owner, had an answer in his back pocket – the Harris County Domed Stadium. Move the game indoors (R. Buckminster Fuller had already assured Hofheinz that you could enclose an area the size of a ballpark, “provided you didn’t run out of money”), crank up the a/c , and “Play ball!”.

They installed a sprinkler system for the turf, and placed Lucite panels in the ceiling to let in sunlight. However, when it became apparent from the first game that the clear panels made flyballs impossible to see, they were painted over. As the paint dried, the grass died.

Assistant GM Tal Smith was sent to find a solution. Monsanto, as it turned out, had been working  on an artificial playing surface for some time, intending it to be used for high school and college fields; institutions who couldn’t afford to resod their grass fields after every rainy, muddy game. A deal was struck; the team got their turf and, in exchange, Monsanto got the free publicity. Because Houston was home to NASA’s Mission Control Center, and everyone in the US was space-struck at the time, the team (originally the Colt .45’s) became the Astros, the Harris County stadium became the Astrodome, and Monsanto’s fake grass became AstroTurf.

Then the dominoes started to fall; new facilities in Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Kansas City, Montreal, Cincinnati, Minneapolis, Seattle, San Diego, St. Louis & Toronto all had artificial turf. It changed the way the game was played – speed became king. Punch-and-Judy hitters learned that they could chop the ball off the infield and leg out a base hit; infielders learned that they could skip the ball off the turf on a throw to first and actually get it there quicker.

Incidentally, this is why I get such a chuckle out of people who say, “I’m a baseball purist. I like natural grass. And bunts. And stolen bases. And the hit and run.” The running game was one helluva lot more of a sound strategy on AstroTurf. If you like natural grass, you should like the Earl Weaver brand of baseball – pitching, defense and the three-run home run!

One other oft-ignored point about artificial turf is that it does nothing for the comfort of the occupants of the stadium. Aside from the injury concerns of players working on what is essentially thinly-carpeted concrete, it’s no better for the fans. On a hot day, natural grass will absorb the CO₂ exhaled by the fans and release cooling oxygen into the atmosphere. Artificial turf just acts like a giant mirror and reflects the heat back into the stands.

Ballparks built in the early part of 20th century were mostly retired in the late 50’s and early 60’s, having a lifespan of around 50 years. The AstroTurf generation started to be replaced in the early part of this century, sometimes barely 30 years after construction. And, of course, now that they’d had a taste of public money, it was very difficult to wean teams away from the teat – they were a “public institution” (albeit privately owned), after all, and a source of civic pride.

Camden Yards

Was it of necessity that teams needed new ballparks, or was it fashion? In the 70’s, new ballparks were moving to the suburbs, following the fans. In the late 80’s, starting with SkyDome, stadia started moving back downtown, becoming centerpieces of urban renewal projects. Then Camden Yards in Baltimore came along, and the floodgates opened; every team had to have a retro-style ballpark, with modern amenities, right downtown. The public funding was usually disguised in the form of a lottery or consumption tax (hotel taxes were popular – locals don’t stay in downtown hotels, right? Let the out-of-towners pay for it).

So what of the three remaining turf-era ballparks? Kansas City got real grass in 1995, courtesy of legendary Superbowl groundskeeper George Toma. That leaves the two domes. The  Trop is, I think, stuck with an artificial surface – the roof doesn’t open, and even with the best team in the AL East, they don’t draw enough fans to convince anyone to build them a new ballpark; besides, the building they play in is barely 20 years old. So, the Rogers Centre is it;  the last turf park that doesn’t need to be. Let’s hope it changes. Soon.

the real first sign of spring is…Jerry Howarth

So baseball season is upon us again. Because I am regarded as something of an expert (God knows why; I’ve always thought “baseball expert” to be something of an oxymoron) by friends and relations, I am always asked at this time of year, “How’s Toronto gonna do?”

Who loves ya, baby?

For the last decade or so, the answer has seemed so obvious, I’ve considered having this T-shirt made to save wear & tear on the ol’ voicebox. For those who had a more thorough grasp of the situation, my answer would be more along the lines of  “they’ve made some decent moves in the offseason, and should be good for 85 – 90 wins, but that just ain’t gonna do it in the American League East.”

Which, in turn, brings us to this year. The Red Sox are coming off a gawdawful season in which nothing seemed to go right, the Yankees are aged and injured, and the Orioles seem to have had a bad case of horseshoes last year and are likely to come back to the pack. Only the Rays, with a deep, versatile roster and a manager who is rapidly becoming legend (à la Earl Weaver or Tony LaRussa), seem to have maintained the status quo.

This leaves the Toronto Blue Jays (notice how I never say our Toronto Blue Jays. I don’t work for the team, nor do I own shares in the team.  That said, I’m pretty sure my Rogers bundle bill has helped pay for a few free agents in its time).

The Blue Jays have had another offseason where they have made some big, big moves to get star players (C’mon, stop acting like this is the first time since 1993. Remember Roger Clemens? Jose Canseco? A.J. Burnett? B.J. Ryan? Frank Thomas?), and would seem to be legitimate contenders in what may no longer be baseball’s toughest division.

How do we explain Rogers’ sudden magnaminity in 2013? Changes in the way baseball shares revenue between teams, primarily. In the past, Major League Baseball has been accused of subsidizing teams that were doing little to improve their on-field product and, regardless of the veracity of that opinion, new rules were quietly put in place to change those optics.

Toronto is, according to MLB, a “have” franchise; in fact, it’s the fourth-largest single-team market in the Major Leagues. To quote from the above Fangraphs article, “Beginning in 2013, big-market teams will forfeit an increasing percentage of revenue-sharing proceeds. The forfeited funds will be shared among the high-performing teams, in proportion to their Performance Factors.” So, in simpler terms, for large-market clubs, “losing now costs you money”.

Will it all work out for Toronto? Well, first and foremost, it took major cajones on both sides of the table to make those deals. Toronto didn’t rob anyone; they gave up stud prospects to get the players they did. Roll the clock back to 1987; Detroit trading John Smoltz for 11 starts of Doyle Alexander looked good at the time, but how did it work out, on balance? You just don’t know. Alex Anthopoulos’ legacy is, to this point, the guy who was never afraid to roll the dice. Those were the best deals to be made, and he made them, no regrets.

Jose Reyes is the guy I look forward to seeing most. However, he’s been sidelined 11 times in his career with hamstring problems. He played 160 games last year, but it’s been suggested his defense seemed to regress somewhat, and this year will be the first time he’s had to play 81 home games on turf.

What about the other teams in the division? I’m sorry, the Rays are still the class of the bunch. The Rod Sox can’t possibly be worse, but they are using Mike Napoli as a first baseman, who the Jays had in the 2011-12 offseason, and never once considered as a replacement for Adam Lind. The Orioles are going to have to, I think, relinquish their glass slipper to one of the ugly stepsisters, but they do have arguably the best player in the division (Adam Jones) and a serious Rookie of the Year prospect (Dylan Bundy). The Yankees are, well the Yankees. You can never bet against them doing something special, even if they just tread water until they get everyone back. It’ll be interesting to see what happens with A-Rod; there will be enormous pressure on him to retire the whole time he’s rehabbing, to relieve the Yankees of some of  the US$114 million (!) they still owe him over the next five years.

And the Jays? Well, we’ll just have to see. But I’m not having that t-shirt printed this year.