When your ballpark is no more

Few things beat a fine summer night at the ballpark.

At first, I treated the news that the Pawtucket Red Sox would likely be moving to Providence with a sort of benign dislike.

I don't like the Red Sox, but Pawtucket is only about an hour away, so I've gone to several games there. The ballpark isn't the greatest, certainly not Hadlock Field in Portland, the absolute gem where the Red Sox AA affiliate plays, but it's a nice place to watch a game. The first time I went, I was actually pleasantly surprised, as I had only seen the park on TV, and the high backstop behind home plate makes the place look completely soulless when shot by the center field camera.

The neighborhood the park is in isn't the nicest you'll ever see, but the parking is right across the street, and the walk gave my wife and I the priceless moment of seeing Carl Pavano's picture adorning a lamppost as a famous former PawSox player ... above a handicapped parking space. Someone had to have planned that, we thought.

But I also know how these things go. Providence is probably going to build them a beautiful little stadium in a prime location, and although it'll be a little bit longer of a drive, especially when you consider Providence traffic, it's not like the team is moving all that far away.

And I must confess, I'm looking forward to games in Hartford while visiting my in-laws once the New Britain Rock Cats move there.

Then I read this today from Dan Barry, the author of “Bottom of the 33rd: Hope, Redemption, and Baseball’s Longest Game," which, of course, took place in Pawtucket.

"As the years passed, the city’s infrastructure declined, its once-ubiquitous newspaper lost most of its circulation, and even its tired zoo — featuring a beleaguered local celebrity, Fanny the elephant — mercifully closed. The children and grandchildren of millworkers moved up and out, to Cumberland, to Lincoln, and across the Massachusetts line, to Attleboro. Other immigrants settled into the triple-deckers looming over narrow streets, seeking elusive stability during fits of protracted recession, while entrepreneurs imagined other uses for old mills.

But Pawtucket always had McCoy, where future Red Sox stars made their names, and often returned when on rehab assignment. In these ways, Boston royalty was granted to a city nicknamed the Bucket."

And I started thinking about the ballpark of my childhood ... Heritage Park in Colonie, NY.

There was nothing special about the park. Across the street from the former Albany County Airport (more on that later), it was a utilitarian, symmetrical ballpark with mostly metal bleachers unless you ponied up a few more bucks to sit behind home plate.

But it was ours. 

I was a kid when the park opened as the home of the Eastern League Albany-Colonie A's, and it was amazing to me that professional baseball was within an hour of my parents' house, close enough that I was actually able to drive to games when I got older.

One night, my family and my friend Kenny went to a game, but it was rained out, and as we were driving home, there was some noise that cause Kenny to shout, "Listen! You can smell it!" We still sometimes pull that line out today.

I got my first autographs there -- future journeyman backup catcher Charlie O'Brien is one in particular that I remember -- and I was so excited to turn on a game one Saturday to see Mickey Tettleton playing for the A's, since I had seen him in Colonie not that long before.

One night, I bought a plastic replica A's helmet that I wore everywhere, until I cracked it so badly one night during an argument with my brother that my father threw it away. I was so mad.

Then the A's moved out ... and the Yankees moved in.

The Yankees, my Yankees, had a minor league team ... in Colonie! What could possibly be better?

Strangely enough, I don't have any memories of future Yankee stars playing at Heritage Park, and the team eventually moved, first to Norwich, CT (a Norwich Navigators hat is buried in my hat collection somewhere), and then Trenton, NJ.

Its replacement was an independent team, the Albany-Colonie Diamond Dogs. The games were still fun -- instead of the traditional activities, my bachelor party was my boys and me going to a Diamond Dogs game -- but it's clear in retrospect that the Yankees leaving and independent team coming in was the beginning of the end for baseball in Colonie.

The Tri-City ValleyCats were the end of the end. They got a nice ballpark in Troy, named for then-state Senate Majority Leader Joseph Bruno, who got the money for the field, and Heritage Park faded away, first as a relic with some depressing pictures before being torn down. I haven't been by the site in years, so I couldn't tell you what's there now.

(A side note, and back to the airport. After an expansion project, it is now Albany International Airport, and I once had the occasion to be there for a milestone in the project, the opening of the new parking garage. I was standing on the fringe of a conversation Bruno was having, when out of nowhere, his assistant came and yanked the juice box he was holding out of his hand. He snapped his head around and looked at her funny, and she just pointed to the site of the ceremony, which was about to start. I said to myself, "Someday, I want to be so big that I have someone to take my juice box.")

I haven't been to "The Joe" since it opened, and I once vowed to never go to the ballpark, angry that (in my mind) Heritage Park had to be sacrificed to Joe Bruno could have another plaything. My stance has softened somewhat, ever since the ValleyCats helped rebuild the field where I played Little League after it was damaged (along with most of my hometown, and my parents' house, although in my parents' case they were able to repair it) by floods from Tropical Storm Irene.

So maybe I'll go to a ValleyCats game someday. I'm sure I'll enjoy it if I do. But it'll never match my youth and young-adulthood at Heritage Park, the same way I'm sure a night at whatever beautiful stadium is built in Providence won't be the same as days and nights gone by in Pawtucket for people who have fond memories there.

Alex Rodriguez "meets the press"

The scene -- New York Yankees spring training in Tampa, Florida.

The event -- Alex Rodriguez, back from a 162-game suspension, addresses the media.

"Thank you all for coming today.

I would like to start by saying that it's great to be back. I have always loved baseball, but a year away from the game has caused me to realized I love it even more than I thought, and I hope to earn my spot in the Yankees' lineup and help the team win another World Series.

That being said, I understand that I've made a lot of mistakes, the biggest being using performance-enhancing drugs. All I can say about that is that I'm sorry, and my time away from the game caused me to realize how selfish and foolish I was.

Looking forward, all I can do is try to be a better man.

I know one issue that has come up is the bonuses I am set to receive for reaching certain home run milestones. Because I realize it would be wrong for me to accept them, I have asked the Yankees, and they have agreed, to use the money toward funding scholarship for underprivileged children in New York and Miami. Those kids deserve the money more than I do.

I also realize that as I say this, none of this matters to any of you, as you probably have your stories about me making another phony statement already written, and are just looking for quotes from me to fill it in.

I am well aware that my original sin was not using PEDs, but having the unmitigated gall to sign the contract the Texas Rangers put in front of me. I have been able to do no right in your eyes since then.

Therefore, I can admit to using PEDs twice when David Ortiz -- who was a nobody before he took them -- has never admitted them, and you fall all over yourselves about how wonderful he is while I'm scum. I also know that I've just helped you write your stories, as now I've 'ripped' my 'friend David Ortiz to take heat off' myself.

Therefore, it was OK in your eyes for my own general manager to curse me out for daring to say that I'm ready to start playing again without wondering what his motivation might be.

Therefore, it was OK in your eyes for Major League Baseball to have had such a desire to come after me for Biogenesis that it would purchase stolen documents and for former Commissioner Bud Selig to never answer for how his office handled the investigation.

Therefore, it was OK in your eyes to not point out that I got a longer suspension because of everything I had done, while apparently everyone else involved in Biogenesis except for Ryan Braun must have been caught having done only one thing and for the first time in their lives.

So you know what else is OK? For you to write and say whatever you want. Because you know what else I've realized in the last year? There's nothing I can do to make you happy except retire immediately and never be seen again.

I'm sure you guys have a lot of questions, but too bad. I'm out of here. Go talk to Ortiz instead."




    

The Olympics Boston may not want may be the Olympics Boston needs

In case you weren't aware, there has been just a little bit of snow in and around Boston in the last two weeks, and more could be on the way.

Along with the snow came failures in the region's rail and subway system, the MBTA, or "the T" for short.

"The primary problem that plagued the MBTA’s subway cars this week — and caused thousands of commuters to be stranded on Monday and Tuesday — is a familiar challenge to transit specialists that other cities solved years ago using modern technology.

Many of the stalled trains failed because their motors run on direct current, or DC, power, which malfunctions easily in light, fluffy snow like the more than 40 inches that has blanketed Boston in the past two weeks, MBTA officials say. Transit systems around the country have upgraded to newer alternating current motors, which withstand moisture far better."

The storms have been a tremendous headache, but for some, they have been an opportunity to point out what they see as the preposterous nature of Boston bidding for the 2024 Summer Olympics.

Snow stops our public transportation when it's not snowing. They think they can support the Olympics? #NoBoston2024 http://t.co/c9LOE9wI32
— Nick Pizzolato (@nickpizz) February 3, 2015

The IOC might be interested to know that the #MBTA also doesn't work when it's hot outside. #Boston2024
— Dan Kennedy (@dankennedy_nu) February 6, 2015

The first tweet is from my buddy Pizz (who is a good follow for a lot of reasons, but particularly if you're in the #NoBoston2024 crowd), and the second is from Dan Kennedy, a local journalism professor, author and media critic.

I'm fans of both of them, and they're both right about the T. It basically only runs well if the weather is like San Diego (although, from having been there, I can tell you that its rail system is far more modern than Boston's), and adding the Olympics to the current system would be an epic disaster.

However, I'd say those are less arguments against having the Olympics in Boston and better arguments for actually having them here.

Everyone knows the T is a disgrace, but no one will fix it. Why? Guess.

"You can cast a lot of blame in a lot of directions for the sad state of affairs, but the big culprit is pretty clear: state legislators, particularly those from outside Boston, who have spent the past 20 years whistling past the disaster.

They have known, for many, many years, that the state needs to spend a bunch of money on maintenance and upgrading of the MBTA. They don't care."

Also, this.

So if no one actually wants to fix the MBTA, or doesn't think they should have to be the ones to pay for it, what is it going to take for something to actually be done? It might take a large event that puts Boston on the world stage where failure would subject the city to endless ridicule and cripple its belief in being a world class city.

You know, something like ... the Olympics.

Such a thing would not be unprecedented even in recent history. The London Underground was upgraded for the 2012 Olympics, as was the Sea-to-Sky Highway from Vancouver to Whistler. I can only speak as a tourist, but having been to both in the last few years, I would say it was money well-spent.

There are less-scenic rides.

Are there issues with Boston's Olympic bid? Yeah. (Again, Pizz can tell you all about it.) Is it too bad that it would take something like an Olympics to actually make our state leaders do something about the awful rail system? For sure.

But is there any other way of getting it done. Barring a change of heart, I don't see any.

It won't be the same without Jeff Gordon

I used to hate Jeff Gordon. I admit it. 

It wasn't just that he won all the time, although it was. I know there's a belief that dominant champions are good for a sport because everyone wants to see if they'll get knocked off, but I've never bought it. Unless it's who you're rooting for, why watch when you know who's going to win?

But not only did he win all the time, he was just so ... perfect about it. He had the good looks (after he got a decent haircut and shaved his cheesy mustache), the beauty queen wife, the crew chief who seemingly always made the right call (and with just a whiff of wondering if chicanery was involved, for instance the red car in the top picture), the owner who had all the money and always spoke like he was reading from a PR handbook.

It's like someone he was pressed in a factory somewhere and programmed.

And God, was it annoying.

Yet reading the news today that Gordon won't be racing full-time after this season didn't leave me with the sense of glee that it once would have.

Because you see, somewhere along the line, I stopped hating Jeff Gordon. Yes, part of it was because he stopped winning all the time, but he also stopped being so perfect. He had ups and downs in his personal life (a divorce, remarriage and children), grew a beard once in a while, laughed at himself and even got into a couple fights.

He was, dare I say, human.

And when he became human, he became a lot harder to hate.

So while I don't exactly root for Jeff Gordon, I don't spit and sputter at the thought of him winning (that would be the younger Busch brother), and I can say with respect that if he's not in the lineup of the 2016 Daytona 500, it won't be the same.

Me and my cars

Honest, they were in a display case.

My wife and I are going to be moving, which means we're working on boxing stuff up. Today, that included my collection of die-cast cars. 

With the exception of a couple Randy LaJoie cars and a Robby Gordon, all my cars of Dale Earnhardt, Dale Earnhardt Jr. and Kevin Harvick. I mostly get them as Christmas and birthday gifts, unless I see a good deal somewhere, like when I was able to grab a couple Harvick cars (including an autographed one) on clearance at the Childress museum last year. I actually have a couple that aren't shown here, but since I just got them for Christmas and knew I would be packing them up, anyway, I didn't bother taking them out.

Fortunately for both my parents' and my bank accounts, I'm not a completist; I basically get the stuff I like. I still don't have any Harvick No. 4 cars, something I obviously have to rectify, and in addition to whatever current cars I add to the collection, I'd like to grab the Earnhardt Wheaties car, the Earnhardt Jr. and Harvick ACDelco cars and maybe a Ron Hornaday NAPA truck if I can find them somewhere.

As I looked over the collection spread out on our TV room floor, for all the color (and yes, I have four cars with Wrangler-themed paint schemes), the one that jumped out at me was mostly white.

Mine

The original

This may sound crazy, but I don't think Kevin Harvick has ever gotten enough credit for what he did.

The most-popular driver in the sport had just died during the Daytona 500, the entire sport and its fans were in mourning and Richard Childress, instead of finding a veteran to finish out the season and buy time until he could decide on a permanent driver, turned to Harvick, his 25-year-old, second-year Busch Series driver.

Not only did he have to start racing a white No. 29 car that just the last week had been the iconic black No. 3, he was keeping his full-time Busch Series ride.

So all he did was win his third Cup start in a you-remember-where-you-were-when-it-happened moment, finish in the top 10 in Cup points and take the Busch Series title ... with reminders of what was lost and whose car he was driving present every week. (How Dale Jr., who, after all, lost his father, managed is beyond my feeble comprehension.)

Harvick couldn't replace Dale Earnhardt -- an impossibility if there ever was one -- but he and Dale Jr. (remember the trip back to Daytona that season?) at least gave his fans something to celebrate.

John Oliver and I ... (not really) best buds

Mrs. Last Honest and I went to see John Oliver tonight in Boston. It was a brilliant show, and he told a joke that just laid waste to Patriots fans, which I'm cool with. As a sign of how good he was, it was far from the only joke that mocked Bostonians, and instead of cringing in horror or getting angry, because they were that kind of jokes, people laughed.

I had known either from a story or an interview that Oliver was a Liverpool fan, so it wasn't a surprise when he talked about going to his first game when he was a child, and then he moved on to visiting the Liverpool locker room at Yankee Stadium this summer, in a story that also involved fellow Liverpool fan Daniel Craig. (I won't spoil the story here, plus I could never be nearly that funny, but John Oliver, Yankee Stadium, James Bond and Liverpool is a whole lot of awesome in one place.)

My wife and I were sitting in the balcony, and as he was telling this ultimately fairly harrowing Liverpool story, I wasn't just laughing, but wishing I had a chance to talk to him not as successful comedian and riotous TV show host (him, obviously) and complete nobody (me, obviously) but as Liverpool fan to Liverpool fan.

Because as different as our lives are, we have that in common.

A Last Honest college basketball preview

I've stayed away from the blog for way too long, but the start of college basketball season is enough to make me blow off the dust.

I love college basketball, especially with the new format where the selection committee chooses the men's Final Four teams. Yes, the tournament was great, especially with games all day and night the first weekend, but football rules, and so why not decide the champion the same way football does? Also, since the champion can be decided in just one weekend, that's more time to concentrate on what really matters -- spring football practice and NFL draft previews. (Every minute Dick Vitale gets on ESPN is one less that Mel Kiper Jr. gets, after all.)

For me, the big question isn't just what four teams the committee picks (Vitale, of course, will have 27 teams in the Final Four), but which team will get the automatic ACC bid. As a Syracuse fan, I obviously hope it's the Orange, but they always seem to find a way to mess up, and it looks like Duke is being tipped as the team to beat in the league this year.

But maybe the ACC will get two. Why not? After all, the league has Duke, Syracuse, North Carolina, Louisville and Virginia, among others, but there are no easy outs in the conference. You try going to any of those arenas and win. In any other league, losing to one of the lesser teams is a huge upset; in the ACC, it's just a testament as to the awesomeness of the league.

What other league can say that? Maybe the Big 10, especially now that they've imported Maryland from the ACC. Perhaps you can pencil the league in for a Final Four spot, but I wouldn't use Seth Davis' Sharpie ... just in case.

I know Kentucky's the top-ranked team in the preseason, they went to the final last year and the Wildcats' end-of-the-bench walk-on is probably a low first-round NBA pick, but other than Florida and Kentucky, the league hasn't been any great shakes lately. Probably the best thing for an SEC resume is a close loss to an ACC team. (There is no truth, however, to the started-by-me rumor that, to keep ratings up, ESPN plans to replay the entire football season on the SEC Network in lieu of basketball, complete with alternate ending in the unlikely event that a team from some other  conference is allowed in the college football playoff and dares to actually win the thing.)

What about UConn? After all, they won the national title last year! Yeah, but did they really deserve it? All they did was win a bunch of games at the end of the year. Big deal! If they were the team in New England worth having and had the sterling academics of a school like North Carolina, the Huskies would be in the ACC and not the American.

At least the American and maybe the Big Ersatz are on the fringes of the conferences good enough to send a team to the Final Four if everything goes right. Those other conferences should feel happy that their champions will be allowed in the NIT, which will continue. After all, the ACC teams not picked for the Final Four need something to do.

(In case you're wondering about the women, will anyone beat UConn? There is the question of this season.)

Let the games begin!