The quarterly owners’ meetings take place today and tomorrow in New York and, as Bill Shaikin of the L.A. Times notes, despite the fact that the state of the Dodgers is not on the meeting agenda, Frank McCourt has a big lobbying job on his hands:
There will be pleasantries. How was your flight? Where are you staying? How about those Cleveland Indians? And then those conversations could turn awkward, the trapped-in-an-elevator kind of awkward, as Frank McCourt pitches his case to a fellow owner in the hallway.
Eight votes out of 30. That is all McCourt needs to tell Bud Selig what he can do with his trustee, all the Dodgers owner needs to keep his team and get his television money and send the commissioner back to Milwaukee a defeated man.
But he’s not going to get them. Shaikin doesn’t believe he’ll get a single one. I tend to agree.
As we’ve noted before, Bud Selig is many things, but he is not reckless. He would not make what, when you think about it, is an audacious play to wrest control of the Dodgers from Frank McCourt if he didn’t think he had the ammo to do it. His position — and the position of every baseball commissioner — is contingent on the owners’ approval. He would not have gone after one of them if he didn’t have the OK from the others ahead of time.
About that OK: Shaikin makes mention of the fact that there has not been any memo sent around to owners explaining the strategy related to the Dodgers. This also makes sense in that, given the extreme likelihood of litigation, Selig probably — and wisely — determined that he didn’t need any extra documents lying around which McCourt’s lawyers could use in court or, maybe more significantly, other owners could later use as the basis for some sort of precedent.
But you know phone calls were made. Conversations took place. Bud Selig knew what he was doing when he set his sights on Frank McCourt and the Dodgers. Of that you can be sure.
The story of Rick Ankiel is well known by now. He was a phenom pitcher who burst onto the scene with the Cardinals in 1999 and into the 2000 season as one of the top young talents in the game. Then, in the 2000 playoffs, he melted down. He got the yips. Whatever you want to call it, he lost the ability to throw strikes and his pitching career was soon over. He came back, however, against all odds, and remade his career as a solid outfielder.
It’s inspirational and incredible. But there is a lot more to the story that we’ve ever known. We will soon, however, as Ankiel is coming out with a book. Today he took to the airwaves and shared some about it. Including some amazing stuff:
On drinking in his first start after the famous meltdown in Game One of the 2000 National League division series against the Braves:
“Before that game…I’m scared to death. I know I have no chance. Feeling the pressure of all that, right before the game I get a bottle of vodka. I just started drinking vodka. Low and behold, it kind of tamed the monster, and I was able to do what I wanted. I’m sitting on the bench feeling crazy I have to drink vodka to pitch through this. It worked for that game. (I had never drank before a game before). It was one of those things like the yipps, the monster, the disease…it didn’t fight fair so I felt like I wasn’t going to fight fair either.”
Imagine spending your whole life getting to the pinnacle of your career. Then imagine it immediately disintegrating. And then imagine having to go out and do it again in front of millions. It’s almost impossible for anyone to contemplate and, as such, it’s hard to judge almost anything Ankiel did in response to that when he was 21 years-old. That Ankiel got through that and made a career for himself is absolutely amazing. It’s a testament to his drive and determination.
A couple of weeks ago our president wrote one of his more . . . vexing tweets. He was talking about immigration when he whipped out the phrase . . . “Easy D”:
No one was quite sure what he meant by Easy D. Was it the older brother of N.W.A.’s founder? The third sequel to that Emma Stone movie from a few years back? So many questions!
Baseball Twitter had fun with it, though, with a lot of people wondering how they could work it in casually to their commentary:
It wasn’t a scout who did it, but twelve days after that, a player obliged Mr. McCullough:
I have no more idea what Turner was talking about with that than Trump was. We’ll have to wait for the full story in the L.A. Times. But I am going to assume Turner was doing McCullough a solid with that one rather than commenting on the president’s tweet. Either way, I’m glad he made the effort.
And before you ask: yes, it’s a slow news day.