Mirror, mirror, on the wall, which one is the biggest liar of them all? As the Roger Clemens steroid/performance-enhancing drug scandal came to a head today during the Cogressional Hearings, BaseballBigMouth thought it only apt to pause a moment to remember a more romantic time for fans of Clemens, in particular the editor of this very site, The Heckler. The time was June 29, 2006. The setting? Comerica Park, Detroit, MI. Everything good about baseball was on display. As the game gets more dirt thrown on it today, take a moment to remember the things that make it grand — no performance-enhancement required . . . or was it? I suppose we’ll never know for sure. Nonetheless, it will never taint The Heckler’s special evening, regardless of how sullied Clemens’ reputation becomes, and believe it, it’s now as sullied as it comes. Enjoy.

Orignally published June 29, 2006

By the Heckler
BASEBALL BIG MOUTH
baseball blog

Sometimes you walk into a ballpark and just hope the home team doesn’t get blown out – again. Believe me, as a lifelong Detroit Tigers fan, more times than not lately, avoiding a five-run defeat was all the Heckler hoped for on many occasions. Sometimes you walk into a ballpark and hope to see a member of your team do something special. Again, even as brutal as the Tigers have been before this year, I was there to see Cecil Fielder hit his 49th homerun off the Boston Red Sox Dennis Lamp in 1990 (back when 50 homeruns was still a big deal). Heck, sometimes you walk into a ballpark just looking to kill a few hours, down a dog and a cold drink and soak up the sun for a few hours. That’s cool, too.

Sometimes, however, you walk into a ballpark just to get a glimpse of a living legend. No disrespect to Alan Trammell, Lou Whitaker, Jack Morris and other Tiger greats I was fortunate enough to see many a time in my lifetime, but Roger Clemens most-assuredly fits that description, by anyone’s definition. On June 27, 2006, I finally got a chance to see this sure-fire Hall-of-Famer strut his stuff – before a packed-house, the majority of which were there to see the same, despite the fact that the Tigers currently have the best record in baseball.

The buzz began early for the crowd as Clemens was spied taking the rubber in the visiting Comerica Park bullpen, his number 22 stretched across his broad, crimson-colored uniform back. Cameras clicked, people clapped in appreciation, and memories were cemented before he even took the hill to begin the actual game. Slowly, he strode out the gate, through the spacious centerfield, onto the infield and finally to the mound. Grabbing the rosin bag, he looked around slowly, tossed it down, and strode to the center of diamond to begin his latest command performance.

On this night, like many other in his legendary career that has taken him to Boston, Toronto, New York and finally Houston, he was masterful. Even the league-leading Tigers could muster only a mere three hits off of him (all of them weak) during Clemens’ 6-1/3 innings, all the while striking out three while walking only two – both of which would eventually score and be charged to the Rocket, thanks to Astros’ reliever Dan Wheeler who promptly dished up a double to Craig Monroe. On this night, he would actually be out-dueled by Detroit’s Nate Robertson. Nonetheless, also on this night, he once again showed why this 43-year-old Rocket is nowhere close to being permanently confined to the NASA graveyard, at least not yet. Saddled with the ‘L’ thanks to another start with zero run support from his mates, Clemens sent notice to all National League foes that he is back – with all boosters firing.

“I tip my hat to the fans, they were great when I came off,” Clemens said afterward. “It’s fun to see great crowds here again, rooting their Tigers on.”

Indeed. Even if a great percentage of them were rooting, silently perhaps, to see the man originally from Dayton, OH – the same pitcher with 341 wins, a record seven Cy Young awards and more than 4,500 career strikeouts – do something special against their favorite team. In the end, he still pitched great, the Tigers still won, and everyone went home happy. Sometimes you enter a ballpark, and everything turns out just right. Sometimes, you walk out with memories that will last a lifetime.

One other special note from this night, the Heckler’s wife of one-year (and counting) surprised him with one of the coolest gifts ever given to him: his name on the scoreboard in the middle of the sixth inning, wishing him a happy anniversary, love Kathryn. You can see it below (with my secret identity retouched via Photoshop). Man . . . Roger Clemens, the Tigers beating him and remaining in first place, and a woman beside me who loves me enough to do something like that? It doesn’t get much better than that, gang. Sometimes you walk out of a ballpark with far-more than you could have even imagined possible . . .

All photos copyright Baseball Big Mouth and The Heckler
- All rights reserved -

By Punch N. Judy 

The ball was devoid of movement, flat if you will, when Casey Blake - the man whose 18 homeruns have seemed like 80 – dropped the bat head squarely on it. The red stitched sphere in question found a home on the landing, just beyond the left field fence in front of a swarm of Tribe fans delirious with joy.

It was a familiar scene for those in Red Sox Nation. As good as Tim Wakefield was on this night through four innings, the worm can turn that quick when your only weapon is a knuckle ball that flutters and dances to its own beat. It was this way back in 2003 when Wakefield, after hurling a scoreless 10th at Yankee Stadium in game seven of the ALCS, surrendered Aaron Boone’s walkoff clincher in the 11th. And like many on both these nights, you can count me among the loyalists who cast little blame on the 41-year old survivor who has filled every role on the staff since his debut in 1995.

Once again it was the Red Sox lack of execution at the plate that did them in last night in dropping game four of the ALCS 7-3 in Cleveland. That and a couple more double plays, running their total in that department to eight for the series. When facing a team whose staff quivers each time your turn at bat comes, approaches like that of the Sox and Yankees seem to be beyond reproach. But wait a minute, what happens if you just pound the strike zone, get ahead and make these teams hit your pitch? You force the issue is what you do, and by doing that you put the onus on each individual hitter, taking away the lineup’s ability to act in unison. This in turn keeps the bases clear, which of course diminishes the damage a David Ortiz or Manny Ramirez can inflict.

If your an Indian starter whose M.O is simply to last five plus then hand it over to a killer bullpen, the whole patience at the plate thing is actually overrated. This Indian staff simply could care less about the nouveau obsession by most managers with the pitch count.

In the case of Ortiz, last night was the first time I really got a glimpse of the pain rumored to be affecting the left knee of the Red Sox slugger since early August. While he still scorched the ball three times, his stance was virtually upright by the end of the game as opposed to his customary coiled crouch. No matter, it’s the rest of the lineup that Terry Francona needs to worry about as the Indians appear poised to reach their first World Series since 1997. 

By The Heckler
Baseball Big Mouth
baseball news    

Beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . .

The sound Tiger fans are hearing today, resonating in their heads in a repeated, pulsing fashion, is not a pleasant one. Like an elderly grandparent clinging to its last days wearing a well-used johnny shirt atop a creaky hospital bed, the beep seemingly grows louder with each passing visit.

Beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . .

The Detroit Tigers 2007 season is officially on life support today, kicked in to critical condition with a crushing lost last night to division-leading Cleveland. No longer can that be denied. It is time to accept the gravity of the situation — the odds against a repeated magical October this year are greatly stacked against the team, and no excuses need apply. This is a Jim Leyland team. We deal in reality, thanks (well, that, and a lot of stale cigarette smoke).

Beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . .

Up 5-2 in the eighth inning, the seemingly more-fallible Joel Zumaya — he, the anointed would-be closer of the team for next season by a great percentage of the fan base — coughed up the lead faster than Stimpy expelling a morning hairball. Aack!

A leadoff walk, a single, a couple of groundouts (making it 5-3) and then — disaster. A two-run bomb the opposite way by Jhonny Peralta. Bye-bye lead. Hello new ballgame. Aack!

Beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . .

Did you really expect the Tigers to rebound after that emotional shot? The Heckler sure didn’t — and was proven right, unfortunately. Casey Blake, the latest hero-du-jour for the Tribe, effectively pulled the plug on Detroit’s division hopes with a homerun in the 11th off Zack Miner. Coupled with the Yankees latest win (this time over the hapless Baltimore Orioles) moved their Wild Card lead to 3-1/2 with 11 to play.

Beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep . . .

How will this team change in 2008? Probably more than fans believe. The rotation is anything but set — after Justin Verlander, is anyone a lock for Opening Day next year? Jeremy Bonderman? Who says he won’t be dealt as an attractive bargaining chip? FA-to-be Kenny Rogers? Will he be back? Nate Robertson? he of the less-than-impressive eight wins? Andrew Miller? Would a year of tearing up Triple A be the worst thing for this kid, and make no mistake, he is still a kid? Jair Jurrjens? Impressive thus far, but a lock? Hardly. And don’t even bring up Chad Durbin, deal? Safe to say what we got, we got. Period. Nothing more, nothing less.

But what of the rest of the staff? How Jason Grilli stayed on the team, only Leyland knows — but what of the other middle relievers? Jose Capellan looks every bit the all-arm no-head prospect he has always been; Virgi Vasquez flat-out ain’t good enough and Zach Miner needs a more-defined role and the trio of lefties (Bobby Seay; Tim Brydak and Bubba McBride) have been up-and-down. Yorman Bazardo looks to have something, but what? And let’s not forget about Fernando Rodney’s split-season (half abysmal, half good) along with another FA-to-be, Todd Jones. Do you bring him back? Is Zumaya ready for the everyday closer role? The Heckler says no, unfortunately. As much as certain body parts pucker when Jones enters the game (and, nearly as irriating, the way Jones has attacked the media has been tiresome to say the least) I would still resign him for next year. If he wants a two-year deal, give it to him. You can always walk away from the second part.

At first, is Carlos Guillen going to take to becoming a regular there? Will Cameron Maybin be ready for the show next year, ’cause he sure wasn’t this year — and what about a left-handed outfielder? Is Timo Perez a nice story, or a long-term fix-it solution? And what about Pudge Rodriguez’ $13 million option. Are you not going to pick it up, pay him $3 to walk — only to pay someone else (not any better, really) another $8 million? That’s not much of a savings in all, not to mention what it does to the clubhouse. Say what you will about Pudge, but his heart is in the right place. Others notice that as well, no doubt.

All the more sad at the conclusion of this disappointing season, fraught with injuries the 2006 team somehow avoided, is the fact that they didn’t close out last season with a World Series Championship. You just don’t get there as often in baseball as you do in other sports — and regrettably, the Tigers are learning first hand that opportunities like that simply do not come along everyday. More often than not — for 26 out of Major League Baseball – clubs are left with what-ifs and if-only’s as the air grows cold and the Fall Classic beckons.

Looks like this year, the only way the Tigers will be there is if they luck into a ticket, thanks to a hungry Indians team closing in on their first division title since 2001.

Pay your respects while you still can, gang, while this club still has a faint heartbeat. As the baseball cliché goes . . . there’s always next year, right Tiger fans? Ask the Cubs’ fans how it’s done. They’ve made a living out of looking forward.