Rico Brogna, Good Fit - Mets in Retirement, 2009

[Guest John Cougar Lunchbucket]

I crashed into that somehow by seeing there was a post where he estimated 85% of ballplayers of his era were roid users.

[G-Fafif]

His one year as a Met made Mrs. Fafif a Brent Mayne fan. Or, more precisely, an article in the Snooze about how he rode the 7 to Shea made his a name she recognizes instantly, as opposed to, say, Alberto Castillo.

A RARE APPLE UNLIKE MOST, CITY LIFE GRIPS METS' BRENT MAYNE BY THOMAS HILL Sunday, June 23th 1996, 2:00AM Brent Mayne removed his knapsack, slipped into an old wooden booth at John's Pizza, sidled up to his wife, Hillary, and leaned against a backdrop of carved graffiti. Just then, Mayne's wide eyes spied a dark jukebox across the room. The temptation was too great. He bounced from his seat, rifled through his bag for two quarters, plunked them into the machine and punched in his selections. Familiar strains of Bobby Darin's "By the Sea" provided accompaniment for the usual Friday lunch-hour cacophony of rushing waiters, clanging plates and gabbing customers. After a moment of silence, the Beach Boys began to wail, "Wouldn't it Be Nice?" A pattern was developing. Mayne smiled mischievously as he admitted his plot to bring the California beach to Greenwich Village on the first full day of summer. "It seems like some people have a way better perspective than other people," Mayne said. "And it seems like most of those people live at the beach. You can live with one pair of shorts a year if you have a beautiful beach to go to every day." But Mayne, the Mets' 30-year-old backup catcher, doesn't have the beach at his door this summer, as he does while living in Newport Beach, Calif. during the offseason. He has North America's largest urban playground in his backyard instead. And Mayne, the only Met who lives in Manhattan, doesn't want to miss anything while he's here. "It's just the energy of it," Mayne said. "Every day we get up and walk outside and it's like walking into an adult Disney Land. It's just bigger than life. It's something I've never experienced before." "It's so sexy," Hillary Mayne said. All his teammates in fact, almost all of the city's professional athletes opt for the security of the suburbs.But Mayne, who joined the Mets in December after a trade with Kansas City, saw only one way to approach his move headfirst. After receiving encouragement from his former Royals teammate and fellow Manhattan resident, David Cone, Mayne and his wife found their two-bedroom East Side apartment in April. They have not once regretted their choice. "We had to decide, `Do we want to live in the city, or on Long Island?"' Hillary Mayne said. "But it was an easy choice. A lot of people said living on Long Island would be like moving to L.A. and living in Riverside." Mayne isn't missing out on a bit of the Manhattan experience. He rode the subway for the first time this spring and immediately became hooked. Now he considers the train his primary mode of transportation. Both Mayne and his wife have discovered that the easiest route to Shea in the late afternoon occasionally is the No.7 train. Other Mets' wives have reacted with stunned incredulity at the revelation that two straphangers live among them. "They're baffled, they can not believe it," Hillary Mayne said. "They think I'm out of my mind. And they don't know what my husband's doing to me. They all have their cars in the suburbs." The Maynes rode a crowded No.6 downtown Friday afternoon. One passenger engaged another in a brief conversation about Dwight Gooden. Dressed in a red T-shirt, turquoise corduroy shorts and sneakers, Mayne stood silently beside them, offering no hint of his identity. Protected by the anonymity afforded to a backup catcher and his wife, the Maynes feed their enormous appetite for the city every day. They often wander through Central Park on the mornings of home games. One recent day, they stopped to play with a little boy named Buddy, as he whacked tennis balls with a bat. "He would hit the ball hard against the backstop, and just sit and watch until it came to a complete stop," Mayne said. "We were watching him for awhile, and finally, he asks us, `Do you want to play?' " The catcher and his wife could not resist. Finally, with Hillary pitching and Brent hitting, Buddy called from the outfield, "Is he any good?" Smiling, she replied, "Not really." Mayne then slammed one of his wife's pitches deep over Buddy's head. Slowly but good-naturedly he retrieved the ball, never aware that he was playing with one of the Mets. "You get to mix it up with different people," Mayne said. "That's a great thing about New York. The rich people have to rub elbows with the poor people. That's not so in California. There, you can cut yourself off from what you don't want to see. Here, it's impossible. "People in New York are supposed to be rude. That's not true. They just talk differently. They're just direct and straightforward. They tell you exactly what they think. You don't have to deal with cutting through a lot of crap." The Maynes strolled through Washington Square Park Friday, stopping to watch two 20-something men playing speed chess after maneuvering around a group of young girls jumping rope Double Dutch. A bare chested man juggling seven balls prompted Mayne to stare in awe. At such moments, he has difficulty believing that so many of the city's other pro athletes remain in their suburban bunkers. "I understand it's intimidating," he said. "We went through that. But I'm glad we did this, because you hear so many bad things. Maybe I'm just seeing it through rose colored glasses because I haven't been rolled or mugged yet." The allure of the city, however, has been far more satisfying to Mayne than the call of the ballpark. Playing behind Todd Hundley, one of the game's emerging young power hitters, Mayne started just eight of the Mets' first 73 games, and had just 46 at-bats. Mayne has spent this season having flashbacks to Kansas City, where he played behind Mike MacFarlane for most of his first four seasons in the big leagues. From the start, Mayne feared he would find very little playing time with the Mets. "I didn't want to be in a situation like I was in Kansas City," Mayne said. "So, my first thought was, `Damn, I'm going back to the same situation.' But if I'm going to be somewhere and not play, this is where I'd like to be." Todd Hundley is having the season of his life. In his own way, Brent Mayne is, too.

[Guest Edgy DC]

Would have made good fodder for my old column.

http://www.kcmets.com/MetoftheWeek/BrentMayne.html

[Benjamin Grimm]

Jerry Koosman, 66, facing possible jail time for not filing a 2002 tax return.

He's plead guilty. Maximum penalty is $25,000 fine and/or a year in prison.

I do hope he avoids serving time.

[Guest Edgy DC]

Stay free, Jerry.

[Guest Edgy DC]

Sammy Drake integrates Macon:

Macon�s Jackies: The forgotten story of Samuel Drake and Ernest Johnson

By Coley Harvey -

charvey@macon.com

There was a chill in the air that night.

The winds, stagnant for much of the hot, high-mercury day, were finally building to a calming crescendo that brought a peaceful cool to a city transitioning to nightfall.

http://media.macon.com/smedia/2009/05/09/19/126-20090509-194813-pic-854425022.embedded.prod_affiliate.71.jpg

At last, the scorching 82-degree heat that filled Macon�s daytime hours was giving way to a more comfortable evening that � for several thousand Maconites � was capped by a hard-fought, well-earned trip to the ballpark.

But unlike all those other springtime nights the throng was used to spending at the stately baseball park by the railroad tracks, this one was different. Although it felt, looked and seemed like another ordinary April night, April 12, 1955 was far from anything any spectator at Luther Williams Field had ever seen.

For the first time in the 26-year history of Macon�s professional baseball franchise, the Macon Peaches, the infield dirt wasn�t the only thing darker than the ball.

That night, black ballplayers donned the same uniforms countless white athletes had worn for a quarter-century. For the first time, members of the two races finally stood along the first base line, side-by-side and singing the national anthem as they kicked off a game, and started a season.

The winds of change had finally shifted in Macon; black ballplayers could now run, dive and slide down the same forlorn base paths whose trails had long been littered by the blood, sweat and tears of their white counterparts.

And as they stood and watched then-Macon Mayor B.F. Merritt toss out the first pitch from the grandstand, little did a 20-year-old Samuel Drake and a 24-year-old Ernest �Schoolboy� Johnson know that they were set to make a long-lasting impact on the community that surrounded them.

Trendsetters embarking on an emotional, never-before-seen journey in Middle Georgia, they were Macon�s Jackie Robinsons.

CALLED OUT OF NAME

As tiny rain pellets fell from the dark-gray blob of clouds that descended upon the ballpark, Johnson dug in the batter�s box.

Rapping a hard ground ball in the infield, the left fielder sprinted out of his stance and glided safely across first base, leading off the home half of the first inning with an infield single. A former barnstorming pitcher, Johnson�s legs and sharp batter�s eye kept him from seeing too much of the pitcher�s mound.

�I was always a better hitter than I was a pitcher,� Johnson said recently, fondly recalling his knack for finding base hits.

While playing for the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1955, Robinson made it his own routine to beat out those kinds of infield singles, electrifying every game he played.

Although he�s now heralded as a modern-day American hero, the tough, gritty second baseman was not always held in high esteem. Despised in the 1950s by many, Robinson burst on the scene in 1947 to capture the league�s inaugural Rookie of the Year Award, as well as the nation�s consciousness.

A black man born in South Georgia and raised in California, he set foot on Brooklyn�s Ebbets Field one April day in 1947 to become the first black to play Major League Baseball in the sport�s modern era. Just eight seasons ahead of Drake and Johnson, Robinson�s dramatic opening day appearance struck a longstanding, unwritten rule from the game.

Effectively barred from the sport, blacks were the subject of an 1887 �gentleman�s agreement� major league owners and managers reached to keep baseball reserved for the play of white players.

That pronouncement struck a similar chord to an 1896 U.S. Supreme Court decision that called on limited interactions between the races, and asked for the creation of �separate, but equal� institutions in the country. That included the creation of separate school, job and housing structures for white and black Americans, as well as the enforcement of laws that forced the races to maintain separate water fountain and dining facilities.

In Macon, in 1955, they still existed.

With segregationist Jim Crow laws pervading the South, Drake and Johnson found their options for entertainment and food to be far less plentiful than what their white teammates enjoyed. Sure, Macon�s black community reached out to the pair and was very supportive of them, Drake recalled, but that didn�t stop the simple fact that neither player could not even sit down briefly in white-owned establishments at home and on the road.

�There was a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant there they had for us (blacks),� the now 78-year-old Drake said, pausing as he recalled his yearlong stint with the Peaches. �But I didn�t have any choice. That was it. And then when we traveled, I had to stay on the bus while they would go and bring my food to me. That was very degrading.

�It hurt, man. It really did.�

As a result, Drake�s and Johnson�s interactions with the rest of the team were very limited, former Peaches outfielder Travis Eckert recalled.

�If we were at home, we were playing ball every day, and then you did what you needed to do. You�d hang out until it was time to go to batting practice or whatever,� said Eckert, now 77. �They were with us during the games and on the road trips, but the rest of the time, they spent to themselves.�

The time away from his white teammates gave Drake ample opportunities to reflect on the painful parts of his baseball experience, as he rhetorically asked, both to himself and to Johnson, �Why? Why did people have to be so hard on them just because of how they looked?�

On the field, the pair was subjected to similar jeers and hate-laced slurs that Robinson faced when he first took the field eight years before.

�It was the fans and the city itself where I had the problem,� Drake said. �It was the same way they treated Jackie Robinson. They threw black cats on the field, called me all out of my name and everything else. They called me the �N�-word, OK. They called me burr head. Or �black this, black that.� And these are my home fans. I�m not talking about when I would be traveling to Savannah and all these other Southern cities.�

A second baseman brought to the Class-A affiliate after impressing Peaches manager John �Pepper� Martin and general manager Tom Gordon in spring training, Drake was a speedy infielder � �God had blessed me with so much speed,� Drake said, proudly. �I ran the 100-yard dash in 9.7 seconds. It�s on my baseball card.� � with a strong arm.

A native of Little Rock, Ark., Drake attended college at Philander Smith, and was one of the few players on the team with a post-secondary education.

�We were the only two players who had a college education, so we always had something to talk about when we were together,� Eckert said.

An All-American at Texas, Eckert came to the Cubs organization with high hopes for his burgeoning career. But since he wasn�t the same highly-valued prospect as players like Drake, his career did not pan out as he hoped, and the following year, he was out of baseball and in real estate.

HITS TO KEEP BLEACHER BUMS AWAY

The words directed at Johnson were just as harsh, but in his mind, the treatment, had far less impact.

A retiree from Armstrong Tire and Rubber in Des Moines, Iowa, Johnson is 80 now, and still as mobile as he ever was before.

Between visiting family in Georgia, taking trips to the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in Kansas City, and speaking to little leaguers in Iowa about his circuitous baseball path, the former Peaches outfielder is still well-traveled.

Along with the same youthful smile and laugh that helped give him the nickname �Schoolboy,� Johnson continues to talk with a quiet ease in his voice. Speaking in calm, relaxed tones, he still sees the world with the same patience that guided his smooth left-handed swing to the .291 batting average he maintained during his brief stint in Macon.

�Oh yeah, I could hit now,� Johnson said with a laugh.

At times during the 30-game appearance, the hits came in bunches. They had no choice, he said. It was either hit, or be hit between the ears with stinging insults about his race.

�They would say some things to me, and I would just try to prove � well, I felt that, if you called me a name, I�ll go up there and try to get me a base hit,� Johnson said with defiance, as if he could hear the taunts again. �That�s the way I felt. The more names you call me, the better I�m going to play.�

During his monthlong stay, Johnson played well, coming away with 32 hits and six doubles.

Drake, who played the entire season in Macon, enjoyed a good year himself, batting .251, while amassing a pair of triples, and at times during the season, leading the South Atlantic League in stolen bases. But regardless his on-field exploits, he had a much harder time managing the hatred directed toward him.

�It�s kind of a hard environment to come out at night and do your best with all that stuff hanging over you,� Drake said.

Living in the segregated South after spending a year away from his Arkansas home to play in Canada, Drake had a difficult time adjusting on the field.

Some days, while playing second base, his anger boiled on the inside as home fans chanted for Martin to replace him. They�d rather watch less talented, backup utility infielder Chico Fernandez than Drake, they shouted. A player of Cuban decent, Fernandez starred at second the previous season.

�The thing I can remember (about Drake) is how Mr. Drake was sometimes upset,� Johnson said. �Pepper, he loved Sammy Drake because Sammy could really run. And that was Pepper�s type of baseball, and that was one of the reasons why we went to Macon (from spring training): because Pepper fell in love with Sammy.

�But the guys in the bleachers would yell at Sammy and say like, �We want Chico, We want Chico Fernandez back at second base, get that N----r out of there!� This would totally upset anyone.�

Although it took several agonizing weeks, the hostilities eventually quieted down as the season wore on.

Just before the end of May, those aggressions ended for Johnson, as he was shipped off to Twin Falls, Idaho, cut from the Peaches along with Eckert because the team had too many outfielders, and not enough genuine interest in either of the two.

�I could play circles around those other guys, but they had zero dollars invested in me; they weren�t interested in my benefit, they were more interested in the ones they had money in,� Eckert said. �It�s not like it is today where (teams) have gillions of dollars from advertising and things like that, and can pay as many players as they want.�

With Johnson out of the picture, Drake was by himself as the Peaches� lone black player.

�It was very difficult being alone,� Drake said. �I really didn�t have anybody to reach out to from that perspective expect the manager, and the manager was one of the nicest white persons I had ever met, Pepper Martin.�

THE YEAR THAT ALMOST WASN�T

On May 20, Macon News sports editor Wallace Reid invited Drake into his office to interview him for a pair of stories.

The day before, the middle infielder was the victim of a hard slide that drew the ire of the Peaches and caused Reid to question the umpires� judgment.

It took place in the top of the sixth inning of a 2-1 Peaches win at Luther Williams, when Augusta Tigers center fielder Keith Jones headed into second base late, sliding high and well after Drake had stepped on the bag for the front-end of a double play.

�The day we asked (Drake) to stop by the office for a talk was the day after the big center fielder from Augusta had slashed Drake�s thigh with a ripping pair of spikes,� Reid wrote May 26, �and needless to say, the young ballplayer was still sporting a sore leg from the incident.�

According to the News� game story from the May 19 spiking, Drake was left with a four-inch long gash on his thigh that required stitches.

It was Reid who later gave Drake a venue to talk to the city�s readership, as he informed Peaches fans that no matter how high the pressure was for him to succeed his first weeks in Macon, he would continue to play the best baseball for them he could muster.

�I have settled down and will be doing all right as soon as I bring my batting back up to par,� Drake explained in a late-May Reid column.

The reason for a less-than-stellar opening month for Drake, the sports writer ascertained, was the treatment the ballplayer had been getting from fans. But even that, he acknowledged, had improved as the season progressed.

�Although there have been a few local fans who objected to the move (of bringing in Drake and Johnson), vocally and otherwise, most of them have indicated that they would judge the situation on how well the players perform,� Reid wrote. �Which is the measurement applied to any player by most of the fans.�

Reid and Macon Telegraph counterpart Sam Glassman played a critical role in telling the stories of the players from the 1955 season and helping give spectators a team for which to cheer.

Halfway through the 1954 season, team owners Sanders Walker and William A. Fickling announced they were going to drop the club at the end of that season, heralding the potential demise of the Macon franchise.

Without a potential financier, private citizens � fueled by the public support of Reid, Glassman and Mayor Merritt � formed a fund-raising coalition to come up with funds that would allow the team to operate the following year.

Organized through agreements with various social and civic groups in Macon, the appropriate monies were raised by the beginning of March 1955, clearing the path for baseball to be played.

One factor that made it more enticing for donors to give was the news out of spring training that Martin would take over as manager. Nicknamed the �Wild Horse of Osage,� Martin was a scrappy, speedy ballplayer for the St. Louis Cardinals in the 1930s who brought that same fire to the bench.

Watching Drake play in much the same way at spring training camp in Lafayette, La., Martin knew 1955 had to be the year baseball was integrated in Macon.

�Pepper told me,� Peaches general manager Tom Gordon said to Glassman in a column written the week before opening day, �that no other player in camp could catch (Drake). If we could get him, he would not only set our club, but would make it great instead of good.�

Despite Martin�s support for Drake, his fiery demeanor was still too much for a team full of early-to-mid 20 year olds. By the middle of July, with his team slipping in the standings, Martin was no longer the manager, and former Peaches skipper Ivy Griffin took over.

�He didn�t bother me because things were so much different then than they are now,� former Peaches outfielder Lee Bohlender said of Martin�s aggressive, in-your-face managerial style. �If you wanted to get any place, you had to hustle, and you had to play the game hard, and he always did play the game hard, I�ll give him credit for that.

�He was always after you, which was a good thing, but some players, that don�t work. Some players, you�ve got to encourage them instead of raising the devil with them like that all the time. Baseball knowledge-wise, he knew the game, there�s no problem on that. But he was kind of lacking on handling different types of men. In other words, if you get 20 or 25 ballplayers together, you�re going to have different dispositions, and as a manager, you�ve got to sit down and work these things out.�

AN ENDURING LEGACY

Standing in a replica red-and-white striped Kansas City Monarchs hat, Johnson leans on a cage fence, and grins.

Unmistakably his, it was the same grin he often displayed as a clean-shaven 19-year-old while barnstorming with the House of David baseball team. The group, comprised of bearded men who practiced vegetarianism and lived communally, was a stark contrast to Johnson�s boyish, teenage looks. He stood out.

�I was so much younger than everybody else, so naturally, I never had to shave,� Johnson said.

But on an overcast day in 2008, that famous grin returned, the product of what was happening on the field in front of him.

Hunched over in anticipation of the pitcher�s pitch, a group of Racoon Valley (Iowa) Little Leaguers played defense in brand new uniforms.

A special guest, Johnson was on hand to talk to the players about what it was like to play in the Negro Leagues. Just before he joining the Cubs� organization, Johnson played four seasons with the Monarchs and even appeared in the 1953 East-West All-Star Game in Chicago.

Part of what later became an award-winning feature segment for WHO-TV Des Moines, Johnson was captured on camera the afternoon he spent at Racoon Valley and thanked the players � black, white and Asian in background � for wanting to learn his history.

For the rest of that season, and others to follow, plastered across the front of the players� shirts and hats were contemporary logos of several prominent Negro League teams.

From the Baltimore Elite Giants, to the Monarchs to the Homestead Grays, black baseball�s legacy was being continued through these fresh faces.

�The kids were great kids, and I was able to get them the following week or so to Kansas City to the Negro League museum,� Johnson told The Telegraph. �Every year, the Kansas City Royals have a tribute to the Negro League, and they have guys come in and sign autographs and introduce them to the fans. It was a great few weekends for us.�

Two time zones away, Drake has been working promote Negro League baseball along with Major League Baseball.

Following his stay in Macon, the second baseman was called up to the Cubs in 1960 and served as a utility infielder, playing with friend and future Hall of Famer, Ernie Banks.

Johnson jokes, if it weren�t for him, Banks may never have had the illustrious career he went on to enjoy.

According to the former Macon outfielder, Banks popped up on Chicago�s radar screen one night in Columbus in 1953, when Cubs scout and Peaches general manager Tom Gordon saw him play for the Monarchs.

Gordon originally made the two-hour drive west because he was interested in watching an outfielder named Ernie Johnson. As it turns out, he left Columbus seeking Ernie Banks� signature instead.

�And that�s how they started scouting Ernie (Banks). They forgot all about Ernest Johnson,� Johnson said with a laugh. �We always knew, everybody knew Ernie was great. All he needed was a shot and he would make it.�

Following Drake�s two seasons in Chicago, the infielder was selected by the New York Mets in the 1962 expansion draft. He started 25 games that season and mustered just 10 hits. After New York�s infamous 40-120 record that year, he never returned to Major League Baseball. He played another two seasons in Triple-A, but an injury forced him into early retirement from the sport.

Now living in Los Angeles, Drake serves as a Sunday School teacher in his older brother Solly Drake�s 5,000-member Greater Ebenzer Missionary Baptist Church. A former major leaguer himself, Solly Drake played for the Cubs, Los Angeles Dodgers and Philadelphia Phillies. When Samuel Drake was called up in 1960, it marked the first time modern era history that two black siblings had played Major League Baseball.

�Of course we grew up in church, and I�m sure you�ve heard of some churches where back in the old days, they went to church all day? Well we were one of those, Church of God in Christ, at that time,� Samuel Drake said. �We were in church all day long.�

Their lives have taken them far from the baseball diamond, but these days, Drake and Johnson�s legacies continue on; whether they know it or not.

�I talk to my daughter and my wife, and they always say, �You�re a part of history,� and I don�t know if I really feel that,� Johnson said. �I don�t know, I just feel that I played baseball, and that�s what I loved to do. That�s the way things went for me. I was a baseball player. But hey, I guess in a sense, we are a part of history. It just doesn�t hit me as it should.�

[TransMonk]

Jerry Koosman, 66, facing possible jail time for not filing a 2002 tax return.

He's plead guilty. Maximum penalty is $25,000 fine and/or a year in prison.

I do hope he avoids serving time.

[Met Hunter]

I've met Sammy Drake on several occasions, and he is a very classy guy. Good find Edgy.

[Guest Edgy DC]

Charlie Puleo, returning to work.

Blount County Daily Times

Puleo reintroduces himself to Governors

By Ryan Callahan

of The

Daily Times

Staff

Originally published: May 15. 2009 3:01AM

Last modified: May 14. 2009 11:44PM

It was a welcome and long-overdue break for the former major-league pitcher and William Blount High School baseball coach.

Before long, he just needed something else to do.

"Hell, yeah, I was traded for Seaver. I'm fucking serious."

"If your yard at home starts looking good," Puleo said, "you know you're spending too much time at home."

Puleo, 54, officially returned Thursday night from a two-year hiatus for a second stint as the Governors' coach. He was introduced to players, parents and boosters at a meeting in the school's cafeteria.

He previously stepped down in 2007 after a sectional loss at Science Hill ended the most successful season in school history one win away from the Class AAA state tournament.

This time, Puleo takes over a bit of a rebuilding job from former coach Richie Wilhite, who resigned last week after a 3-25 season.

"I felt a sense of loyalty toward William Blount and to the kids here in Blount County," said Puleo, who previously coached the Govs for eight seasons. "I want to try and come back and get the program headed in a good direction -- where it should be, where we had it."

William Blount athletic director Mike Brewer said Puleo was the first person he approached about the job when Wilhite told school officials he intended to pursue a full-time teaching position at Lenoir City High School.

"I put a little plug in (Puleo's) ear about possibly returning," Brewer said. "Who wouldn't want him running your program, with what he stands for and the character he has? He's right here in my building (as a driver-education teacher).

"I went right to him, and I'm just very thankful that it worked out. It's the best thing for our school and our program."

The Governors might have Puleo's daughter to thank for his return.

Puleo originally left to follow the college-basketball career of his daughter, former William Blount guard Angela Puleo, who decided last month to transfer from the University of Georgia to Vanderbilt.

http://onlineathens.com/images/111707/27294_223.jpg

He attended games throughout the SEC, visiting 11 of the league's 12 campuses -- he only missed a trip to LSU -- to see his daughter play.

She will be required by NCAA rules to sit out next season. That means her father, who played for the New York Mets, Cincinnati Reds and Atlanta Braves from 1981 to 1989, will get a year-long break from traveling to any basketball games.

"If things had stayed the same, yes, it would have been a much tougher decision (to return to coaching)," Charlie Puleo said. "She didn't leave Georgia and go to Vanderbilt so I can coach baseball, but it helped a little bit. It made it easier on me knowing that I can give the kids here, the baseball players, 100 percent of my time."

Puleo wasn't willing rule out that his second stay with the Governors could be much shorter -- perhaps only one season.

"I'll say this: It could be (one year), or I could be here until I retire," he said. "I don't know. I just have to take it one step at a time and see how everything develops."

Puleo said his new staff, which will consist of four of his former players, eased his concerns about what might happen once his daughter resumes her basketball career next year at Vanderbilt.

John Garland, a former Govs assistant who left with Puleo in 2007, and Justin Young, who played shortstop at William Blount, will be full-time assistants. Daniel Holden and Eric Loy will serve as part-time volunteer assistants.

"I think they all have bright futures, and if I can help them develop into head coaches, that would be great," Puleo said.

Puleo said he "never really left" William Blount, regularly watching home games the last two years and getting an up-close perspective of the team's struggles this year.

"I've always been outside the fence, I guess, the last two years and watching what's going on," he said. "I tried not to interfere too much with them out there. I don't think I did. But I did enjoy watching games and wishing I was back being a part of it."

Now that he is, he's intent on helping the Govs reverse their fortunes.

"We're going to start Tuesday. We're going to go back and establish a good work ethic, and get back to William Blount baseball," Puleo said.

"We'll be playing in some tournaments, and hopefully we can develop a little bit more of a winning attitude. That's what we need. After a tough year like that, we need to get some confidence back.

[Farmer Ted]

Is this the same Angela?

http://www.facebook.com/people/Angela-Puleo/1506840023

[Guest Edgy DC]

That's my Angie.

[Guest Edgy DC]

We've had plenty of Ed Hearn articles over the years. (Motivational speakers have publicists and all.) But his assorted illnesses really seemed to help him pile on weight. It's not mentioned in the article, but he looked much trimmer.

And then I saw that, on top of all the kidney disease, the guy's been fighting cancer, and I thought, oh, that's where the weight went.

Former big leaguer�s words worth catching

Steve Warden

Cathie Rowand | The Journal Gazette Former major league baseball player Ed Hearn, right, talks with Wes Shie at the Fort Wayne Business Expo on Tuesday.

There is a phrase that goes, �Three things that never come back: the spent arrow; the spoken word; the lost opportunity.�

We often trust such time-honored quotations; that they were words said long ago by someone old and wise, so we tend to nod in agreement without doubt or question.

But then along comes someone who makes you stop, makes you think, makes you question even the most sagacious of sayings.

Ed Hearn, the former major league baseball player who spoke at Tuesday�s Business Expo at Grand Wayne Center, might not be able to dispute the spent arrow that never comes back, but he�s earned the right to take issue with the two others � about the spoken word and the lost opportunities.

For nearly 14 years as a motivational speaker, his spoken words have, indeed, returned to him a hundredfold � if not more � through letters and e-mails from people whose lives he not only touched, but changed. After one particular speech, a Fortune 500 CEO who �saw the light� to change his priorities took Hearn out of public sight and cried on his shoulder.

�It�s given me life,� Hearn said of his 25 or so speaking engagements a year. �I need this. Without this I wouldn�t be here.�

More than 20 years ago he didn�t plan on this career because he already had a promising one.

He was a healthy 6-foot-3 rookie backup catcher with the New York Mets sitting in the Shea Stadium dugout on that infamous October 1986 night when teammate Mookie Wilson cued a ground ball that snaked through the legs of Boston Red Sox first baseman Bill Buckner. Not only did Buckner�s misplay enable the Mets to come back to win that particular Game 6 and tie the Series at three games each, it would be the iconic momentum shift that would enable the Mets to win the Series title two nights later.

And there, on the celebration pile of grown and grinning men, wearing a broad-brimmed white hat that he plucked off the head of a reporter friend, was Ed Hearn, world champion.

How did he put it Tuesday? �The higher you go on the mountain top, the deeper the fall is.�

And the fall would be devastating.

Five months later he would be traded to the Kansas City Royals for a rookie pitcher named David Cone, who played 17 years and pitched a perfect game.

Hearn�s stint with Kansas City lasted 13 games, and what he wouldn�t give now for just a perfect day.

The shoulder injury that took him out of baseball for good � his career numbers would be a .263 average, four home runs, 14 RBI � was only the first step of his descent. After being diagnosed in 1991 with the kidney ailment FSGS (focal segmental glomerulosclerosis), Hearn was placed on dialysis, which was followed by a transplant, followed by a second, followed by a third.

Now he�s fighting cancer. He needs a machine to help him breathe. He takes 50 pills a day.

And yet he stands among the round tables at Grand Wayne Center on Tuesday, challenging the dark suits and business women to keep the economic downturn in perspective.

�How do you find perspective? When times are tough, you don�t think about yourself,� he says. �You get out and you do something for somebody else a little worse off than you are. I promise you they�re easy to find � and then you get out and do something for them. It will change your life.�

Across Jefferson Boulevard stands, of all places, a baseball field, and Hearn knew about that. He was told of the TinCaps, and how the name came about, from Johnny Appleseed.

�That�s what my life is about today,� Hearn said. �Planting seeds, nourishing seeds that have already been planted, and trying to make a difference in the lives of other people. That�s it.�

What of the spent arrow? Maybe it doesn�t come back. But for Ed Hearn, the spoken word returns with grace, and an opportunity in baseball is not lost, but mistaken for opportunities at another time in other places.

---

]Steve Warden is a writer for

The Journal Gazette

and has been covering sports in Fort Wayne since 1969. He can be reached by email

stwarden@jg.net

; phone, 461-8477; or fax 461-8648. To discuss this column or others he has written recently, go to the �Sports� topic of �The Board� at

www.journalgazette.net

.

[Guest Edgy DC]

A flat stomached Mookie Wilson demonstrates the principles of Galileo.

See if you can figure out who autographed his hat.

[Guest Rockin' Doc]

It looks like Ralph Branca to me.

[G-Fafif]

Terrel Hansen was called up for a couple of days in 1992. Never played. He was a bigger shot in the Pacific Northwest than I ever would have imagined, according to Terry Mosher in the Kitsap (WA) Sun. (FAFIF cameo in article took me by surprise.)

Terry Mosher: Hansen's MLB Career: 2 Games, 0 At-Bats Even after talking to Terrel Hansen, it's difficult to access why the Olalla resident never quite reached the top of the baseball pile and stayed there. But as I heard and said several times this past weekend while watching Bainbridge play in the Class 3A state tournament at Safeco Field, that's baseball. When Hansen, now 42, graduated from Bremerton High School in 1984 he was a prime prospect who turned down a 14th-round draft selection and an offer of $10,000 by the New York Mets to accept a baseball scholarship to Washington State. He played three years for the Cougars and was drafted by Montreal. There were times during his senior year at Bremerton when pro scouts crammed tightly together behind the backstop with their radar guns, zeroing in on Hansen, a 6-foot-3, 215-pound teenage sensation. The pitcher/catcher appeared to have the baseball world in the palm of his hands. Maybe � and I didn't ask him this in our recent conversation � Hansen was just too aware of the political shenanigans that go on in baseball and wouldn't kneel to them, or maybe it is just as he says, he had a knack of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Whatever it was, the top for Hansen was two days in 1992 sitting on the New York Mets bench. While that brief cup of coffee earned him $1,200 on the then pro-rated basic minimum contract of $109,000 for Major League ball players (the minimum pay today for a player is $400,000), the stay produced no at-bats and a memory of another opportunity lost. Author Greg Prince wrote the book, Faith and Fear in Flushing, and put tongue-in-cheek to list the 10 "greatest Mets" of 1993 when the team lost 103 games. Hansen shows up at No. 7 even though by then he was in the Montreal organization with Triple-A Ottawa. But while the year is not correct, the premise is correct: Hansen didn't get a solid chance to prove himself, and to Prince he is an example of the craziness that swirled around the Mets' organization for a long time. Hansen, mostly an outfielder, was called up by the Mets from Triple-A Tidewater in 1992 to fill in for an injured player. He was going to pinch-hit in one of those two games, but as he grabbed a bat, Mets manager Jeff Torborg decided to let Mackey Sasser hit for himself. Hansen sat back down, and soon he would be sent back down, to Tidewater. Vince Coleman came off the disabled list and Hansen was gone. In Coleman's first game back, in his first at-bat, he pulled a muscle in his rib cage and went back on the DL. Because of the rule requiring a player sent to the minors to stay there for at least 10 days, Hansen could not be called back, even if he wasn't quite there yet. Another opportunity was wasted, and not by his own doing. D.J. Dozier, the former Penn State running back, was called up to replace Coleman. You can turn that into a Trivial Pursuit question, if you care. Dozier stayed for a month, which would have been plenty of time for Hansen to at last prove himself. But it wasn't to be. "I was always in the wrong place at the wrong time or behind somebody," Hansen said. "But when you are a $100,000 guy and there are $6 million guys ahead of you, those guys have to play. That is just a part of the game." When he did get into a perfect situation late in his career in the Detroit Tigers organization, he was too old. The Tigers decided to rebuild behind a youth movement and they said bye-bye to Hansen. He played the final three years of a 13-year career with Chico and friend Bill Plummer in the Western League, an independent circuit in California. Plummer, briefly the manager of the Seattle Mariners, is with the Arizona Diamondbacks organization now and would vouch for Hansen if he wanted to get back into the game. But Hansen is happy with his life. He works with heavy equipment with a construction company. Hansen coaches with the Narrows Baseball Club out of Gig Harbor, giving hitting lessons and enjoying his wife, Jennifer, and three sons � Nate, 17, who plays on a Narrows team; Brennan, 11, who plays for Southern Little League, and Tyler, 3, who spends most of his time swinging a bat off a tee. Baseball opened up the world to Hansen, who saw much of the U.S. and Latin America while playing for over 20 teams, including with the Mariners' replacement team during the strike season of 1995. He hit 194 minor-league home runs, was hit by a pitch 263 times, not counting playoff games and spring and winter ball, and lived a dream. But the big dream, the big hit, never came. Terry Mosher is a former Sun sportswriter who is publisher and editor of the monthly Sports Paper. E-mail him at bigmosher@msn.com.

[Benjamin Grimm]

Former Miracle Mets catcher Duffy Dyer on a ring and a prayer By Anthony Mccarron DAILY NEWS SPORTS WRITER Updated Saturday, June 13th 2009, 4:43 PM Hurley/News Has anybody seen Duffy Dyer�s World Series ring? The former Mets catcher played 14 years in the majors, won a World Series with the Mets in 1969, has been a coach or manager up and down most every level of the pro game and spent two years as a Met scout. But last summer, while he visited the Padres� club in the Dominican Republic, his precious championship ring was stolen from his locker. �People keep telling me to see if it�s on eBay,� Dyer says ruefully. �I�ve looked, but I haven�t seen it.� The players Dyer has worked with over the years would marvel at the ring and ask for the stories about the Miracle Mets and that magical October when the Amazin�s shocked the baseball world. Dyer, who currently resides in Phoenix, counts the Met memories as some of his favorites, from the thrills of the World Series to the day the team first acquired Rusty Staub, and Staub wanted Dyer�s No. 10 jersey. A few hours before a morning press conference, the Mets called Dyer to ask if he would hand over the number and the groggy catcher agreed. �My wife said, �You can�t do that! It�s on your World Series ring,�� Dyer recalls. �She was right. I called the Mets back and said, �Wait a minute!� Rusty took No. 4 instead.� Dyer will be back in Queens this August when the Mets celebrate the 40th anniversary of that Miracle Summer of 1969. And he�s still close to pitcher Jim McAndrew and sees some of his former teammates from that season at Met fantasy camps. �But I haven�t seen Seaver in a long time,� he said. Dyer, primarily a backup to Jerry Grote on those Met teams, recalls tears springing to his eyes the day he was traded to the Pirates. �They were our rivals!� Dyer says. �It broke me up, but I loved my four years in Pittsburgh and it was a good time to be traded, because the Mets had started getting rid of guys � that�s the same year they traded Tug (McGraw).� The 63-year-old Dyer has been in baseball for 41 years and still adores every minute in his current job as a roving catching instructor for the Padres. He even did a stint as a catching instructor for the Chinese national team, teaching the fundamentals that those who wear chest protectors and shin guards must master. �I still have a passion, working with the kids,� says Dyer, who played for the Mets, Pirates, Expos and Tigers. As a Pirate, he caught John Candelaria�s no-hitter in 1976; as an Expo he was dealt to Detroit for current Met manager Jerry Manuel. But he�s most known for his Mets career, which lasted from his one-game debut in 1968 to Oct. 22, 1974, when he was dealt to Pittsburgh for Gene Clines. Overall, Dyer had 30 homers, 173 RBI and a .221 average in 722 major-league games. Dyer knew he wanted a career in coaching after spending 1983 as the Cubs� bullpen coach. Since then, he�s managed in the minors for the Twins, Brewers and Tigers, been a third-base coach for the Brewers and A�s (under Art Howe), a bench coach for the A�s under Howe, managed the independent Bridgeport Bluefish and been both an advance scout and a pro scout for the Mets, when Howe was their manager. When Omar Minaya arrived as GM, the Mets juggled their staff, Dyer says, and he was out. Dyer once wanted to be a major-league manager and interviewed for the Rockies� job that Don Baylor got. Now he says he�d be happy if he finished his career in his current job. �I enjoy what I�m doing so much,� Dyer says. �I�m not out there looking anymore.� Except for that ring. It has No. 10 on it. Have you seen it?

http://assets.nydailynews.com/img/2009/06/14/amd_dyer-now.jpg

[HahnSolo]

Terrel Hansen was called up for a couple of days in 1992. Never played. He was a bigger shot in the Pacific Northwest than I ever would have imagined, according to Terry Mosher in the Kitsap (WA) Sun. (FAFIF cameo in article took me by surprise.)


Author Greg Prince wrote the book, Faith and Fear in Flushing, and put tongue-in-cheek to list the 10 "greatest Mets" of 1993 when the team lost 103 games.

Hansen shows up at No. 7 even though by then he was in the Montreal organization with Triple-A Ottawa. But while the year is not correct, the premise is correct: Hansen didn't get a solid chance to prove himself, and to Prince he is an example of the craziness that swirled around the Mets' organization for a long time.

]

[Guest Edgy DC]

That's good number material.

[Farmer Ted]

What a great shot of that hook slide. No lolly-gagging by the ump...his jaw is in there. The catcher with the soft cap. Classic stuff.

[Guest Edgy DC]

My man Ed Charles is on the ball also.

[Guest metsguyinmichigan]

I have Duffy's Brewer jersey from his stint as a coach. One of my favorites!

[TransMonk]

http://news.yahoo.com/s/eonline/20090622/en_top_eo/130406

Columbia Drops the Ball on Brad Pitt's Moneyball

Los Angeles (E! Online) � They can't all be home runs for Brad Pitt.

His latest project, the Steven Soderbergh-directed Moneyball, has been put into "limited turnaround" by Columbia Pictures honcho Amy Pascal after receiving a much different final draft of a script she once fought for.

Production on the film was set to start Monday in Phoenix, Ariz., and with only 96 hours to go, Soderbergh's change in vision unsettled Pascal and the brakes were immediately applied to the project.

The "limited turnaround" gives Soderbergh the opportunity to try and settle with another studio, the aim being bigwigs such as Paramount and Warner Bros. The filmmaker has until Monday to tie down the deal, having spent the weekend with both his and Pitt's CAA agents attempting to hit one out of the park�so to speak.

With a new deal not yet in place, Columbia will take tomorrow to re-examine where to go from here with Moneyball. There are several options, including delaying the film until Pascal believes she and Soderbergh are on the same page, replacing the director or, the worst-case scenario, pulling the plug on the project altogether.

This is not the first issue Moneyball has run into. While the baseball-themed flick has been approved by Major League Baseball itself, it follows a format that is less than mainstream and rarely a huge success in theaters. Soderbergh has hired Pitt to play the lead character, Billy Beane, but is also utilizing live interviews with actual athletes, including Daryl Strawberry and Lenny Dykstra, and interspersing the vignettes throughout the movie.

Reports claim that Soderbergh is confident in his project, but with upwards of $50 million invested in Moneyball, Columbia is understandably weary about moving forward with a project they no longer fully stand behind�especially at the sight of an entirely reworked script mere hours before the project was slated to begin.

[Guest LeiterWagnerFasterStrongr]

In other news, I hear Michael Bay is getting ready to shoot the shit out of "Death of a Racehorse."

That horse is gonna EXPLODE.

[Guest Edgy DC]

Gerry Arrigo was the most popular lookup yesterday at the UMDB. "Gerry F. Arrigo?" I thought. I checked the news and there had been no particularly recent stories on him. But I read some biograhical information on him and, sure enough, 35 years ago, as a Twin, he thre a one-hitter, losing a no-no in the ninth. I'm sure the Mets noted that and thought, "That's our kind of player."

[Benjamin Grimm]

Should he be "Gerry" or "Jerry"? I've seen it both ways.

[G-Fafif]

Dave Mlicki, back when the Subway Series was unadulterated fun.

Former Mets pitcher Dave Mlicki has fond memories of subway ride BY ANTHONY MCCARRON DAILY NEWS SPORTS WRITER Saturday, June 27th 2009, 4:47 PM Clipped stories from the Daily News and other New York newspapers arrive regularly in the mail at the Mlicki household in Dublin, Ohio. Fans want an autograph scrawled on the newsprint by the man who pitched one of the most memorable games in the history of interleague play. Ex-Met Dave Mlicki, now 41, is happy to oblige. The righty considers his nine-hit shutout of the Yankees in the very first Subway Series game between the teams "my World Series for me, one of my great memories." Around this time of year, with the Mets and Yankees facing each other in another incarnation of the series for city bragging rights, Mlicki's phone starts to ring more frequently. The traffic on Mlicki's Facebook page picks up. At his golf club, Muirfield Village, famous for hosting the Memorial Tournament, visiting New Yorkers want to talk about June 16, 1997, the night he whitewashed the defending world champions, beating them 6-0. Met fans want to praise Mlicki and tell him the Mets could use him now; Yankee fans want to say something like, "I hated you then and I hate you now." "I knew it was a big game when I did it and it's amazing that it's meant so much to so many people," says Mlicki, a "total underdog" in the game. "I remember the day after, my wife (Annie) and I were out to breakfast at a diner and people were talking about the game and no one had any idea I was sitting there. It's what people want to talk about." Mlicki's big games now are the ones that his sons, Avery, 7, and Gavin, 6, play. The boys are into baseball, hockey and golf and Mlicki trails them everywhere. When he isn't coaching one of his sons' teams or working with the pitchers at nearby Jerome High School, he's working on his golf handicap, which ranges from two to five. Golf, so difficult to master, channels his competitive edge. Sometimes, he plays with fellow club member Paul O'Neill. Folks in Dublin call Mlicki, whose last season in the majors was 2002, "The busiest retired guy around here," he says. Mlicki was 66-80 with a 4.72 ERA in 10 seasons for the Indians, Mets, Dodgers, Tigers and Astros. He looks back with no regrets. "It was a cool time in my life. New York was a cool place to be, and I was fortunate to play there. It's in the past now, and now I love spending time with my family. There's nothing greater than seeing them every day and we play catch or something, and baseball is what afforded me this luxury. For that, I am thankful." He's thankful for the memories, too. Mlicki still recalls striking out Derek Jeter for the final out on that big night "like it was yesterday. I remember the excitement in the Stadium, all the Met fans chanting, �Let's go, Mets' in Yankee Stadium. I thought that was really cool."

[Guest Edgy DC]

A bad fit for WFAN, John Franco has to go on Sirius XM to take digs at the Mets.

http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=4301036

Wright dismisses Franco's comments

MILWAUKEE -- The New York Mets already are riddled with injuries and struggling to win. Now former teammate John Franco is piling on -- but Mets third baseman David Wright said that's the least of the team's problems.

"With all due respect to Johnny, he doesn't know what's going on in this clubhouse," Wright said Wednesday, after the Mets beat the Milwaukee Brewers 1-0 to stop a five-game losing streak. "I don't feel the need to have to defend myself as a leader. If these guys in here respect me and think of me as a leader, that's what I need."

In an interview with Sirius XM Radio, Franco said the Mets have "almost no" leadership and suggested that Wright isn't willing to do his part.

"I tried talking to him and tell him to come forward and be that guy, but I think David feels that being that he's such a young player and you have the [Carlos] Delgados and [Gary] Sheffields and veteran guys like that, he's afraid that they'll look at him like, 'Be quiet and sit down,'" Franco said.

Wright said he wasn't worried about criticism from Franco, who played for the Mets from 1990-04.

"I don't worry myself about outside people saying what they're going to say," Wright said. "It doesn't matter. What matters to me are these 24 guys in here and the coaching staff. Whatever anybody else wants to say, they can say whatever."

[Guest Edgy DC]

David Cone, not a lawyer:

KLOBUCHAR:

Thank you very much, Mr. Canterbury.

Next is David Cone. David Cone is a former Major League Baseball pitcher who, over an 18-year career, played for five teams in both the American and National Leagues. Mr. Cone won the American League Cy Young Award in 1994 and pitched a perfect game in 1999 as a member of the New York Yankees.

He was a member of the Major League Baseball Players Association throughout his Major League career and was an officer from 1994 through 2000.

Thank you very much for being here, Mr. Cone.

CONE:

Thank you, Senator Klobuchar.

Senator Sessions, Senator Hatch, nice to see you again.

On behalf of all Major League players, both former and current, I greatly appreciate the opportunity to acknowledge the unique role that Judge Sonia Sotomayor played in preserving America's pastime.

http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2009/07/16/us/politics/16caucus.cone.jpg

As you know, I'm not a lawyer, much less a Supreme Court scholar. I was a professional baseball player from the time I was drafted out of high school in 1981 until the time I retired in 2003. I was also a union member and an officer of the Major League Baseball Players Association.

As is well known, Major League Baseball has a long history of acrimonious labor relations. It was not until the 1970s that players first gained the right to free agency and salary arbitration. This meant that, for the first time ever, players were able to earn what they were worth and have some choice about where they played.

The next 20 years were quite difficult. There was a lockout or strike at the end of every contract. To the players, every -- every dispute seemed to center upon the owners' desire to roll back free agency rights the players had won.

But 1994 was the worst. The owners said that they wanted the salary cap and refused to promise that they would abide by the rules of the just-expired contract after the season ended. Believing we had no choice, the players went on strike in August of 1994. I should note that this was before Congress passed the Curt Flood Act, authored by Senators Hatch and Leahy, which made it clear that baseball's antitrust exemption could not be used to undermine federal law.

In response, the owners canceled the remainder of the season, which meant that there would be no World Series. Discussions continued through the fall and the early winter, but were fruitless. In December of 1994, the owners unilaterally implemented a salary cap and imposed new rules and conditions on employment which would have made free agency virtually meaningless. And they announced they would start the 1995 season with so-called replacement players instead of major leaguers.

We did not think the owners were negotiating in good faith, as they were required to do under federal law. We went to the National Labor Relations Board. The board agreed with us and went to federal court to seek an injunction against the owners' unilateral changes.

The United States district judge who drew the case was Judge Sotomayor. The rest is history, or at least baseball history. Judge Sotomayor found that the owners had engaged in bad-faith bargaining. She -- she issued an injunction. Her decision stopped the owners from imposing new work rules, ended our strike, and got us all back on the field.

The words she wrote cut right to the heart of the matter, and I quote: "This strike is about more than just whether the players and owners will resolve their differences. It's also about how the principles embodied by by federal law operate. This strike has placed the entire concept of collective bargaining on trial. Issuing an injunction by opening day is important to ensure that the symbolic value of that day is not tainted by an unfair labor practice and the NLRB's inability to take effective steps against its perpetuation."

Judge Sotomayor grasped not only the complexity of the case but its importance to our sport. Her decision was upheld by a unanimous Court of Appeals panel comprised of judges appointed by different presidents from different parties with different juridical philosophies.

On the day he announced her nomination, President Obama observed that some have said Judge Sotomayor saved baseball. Others may think this is an overstatement, but look at it this way. A lot of people, both inside and outside of baseball, tried to settle the dispute.

Presidents, special mediators, secretaries of labor, members of Congress all tried to help but were not successful. With one decision, Judge Sotomayor changed the entire dispute. Her ruling rescued the 1995 baseball season and forced the parties to resume real negotiations.

The negotiations were not easy but ultimately were successful, which in turn led to an improved relationship between the owners and the players. Today baseball is currently enjoying a run of more than 14 years without interruption, a record that would have been inconceivable in the 1990s.

I believe all of us who have loved the game, players, owners and fans, are in her debt. If Judge Sotomayor is confirmed, I hope the rest of the country will realize, as the players did in 1995, that it can be a good thing to have a judge or a justice on the Supreme Court who recognizes that the law cannot always be separated from the realities involved and the disputes being decided.

Thank you again, and I would be glad to answer any questions you may have.

[Farmer Ted]

She shoulda slapped Selig with an injunction and allowed the season to play out.

[Guest Rockin' Doc]

She shoulda slapped Selig.