Baseball

• “It became clear to me that the phenomenon of subconcussive hits must be endemic to the game. When an offensive lineman hits a defensive lineman, the force of that collision has a stunning effect that alters brain chemistry. No one talks about the damage that occurs play by play, game by game. If a player starts in high school, continues in college, and then practices and plays sixteen games a season in a long NFL career, with an average of 70 offensive snaps a game, it is possible he will leave football with 10,000 subconcussive hits. None of those hits might knock him out, or even be recorded as a concussion, but the cumulative impact must be staggering. More frightening is the fact that this danger exists in any sport that has collisions: hockey, baseball, field hockey, boxing, MMA, cycling, even youth soccer.”  The Agent: My 40-Year Career Making Deals and Changing the Game (Steinberg, Leigh; Arkush, Michael)–page 203
• “I was watching at home on September 8, the night McGwire hit number 62. It was magical. I had goosebumps. Then, when he went into the stands and hugged Roger Maris’s family, I cried along with the rest of America. Can you believe it happened against the Cubs, with Sammy watching? When they showed Sammy clapping in right field, and then hugging Mark near the dugout, I fell in love with baseball all over again. Only in baseball, a sport whose history is well known and cherished, a sport that moves slowly enough for all fans to appreciate the moment, a sport whose fans are so connected to the game’s past, could a scenario like this pack such an emotional wallop.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location 76-79
• “I have come to understand how steroid use has spread to the high school and college level. I have reflected on the destructive impact steroids have had on baseball’s precious history, its records, and the very integrity of the sport. And I believe in my heart that I would have chosen not to use steroids. But I also believe I understand what drove those who did. The Steroid Era in baseball—roughly, 1990–2005—was fueled by a motive as old as the game itself: the search for a competitive edge.”Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location 95-99
• “If you’re willing to accept that baseball needs its history, then you need to know about the elements that make today’s game different from the game of thirty years ago. How else can you reasonably compare Bonds to Aaron, or Clemens to Koufax, or A-Rod to Schmidt? You need to know about major leaps in bat technology, smaller ballparks, smaller strike zones, hotter balls, much better conditioning, weaker pitching—and bigger, much bigger, payoffs for the long ball. Drugs aside, these factors on their own have collectively had a huge, transformative effect on baseball’s precious history. That is, on baseball’s soul.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location 117-122
•  “I was all-conference that year, and all-American the following two seasons. All of a sudden I was on a lot of scouts’ lists. I went off to college as an utter unknown; I left as a projected first-round pick. Not too shabby for a walk-on.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location 155-157
• “You’ve got to be good to play in the big leagues, but you’ve also got to be lucky. Not getting drafted by the Orioles. Hitting a home run to win the first game I ever played in a Phillies uniform. Having Granny Hamner as a champion in the Phillies organization. Being spared a fourth knee operation at the eleventh hour. Right time, right place. God’s plan.”Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  271-274
• “Just fifteen players in history have hit four homers in a game, and I’m proud to be in the group.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location 663-664
• “I was simply too afraid to fail, and that affected my ability to succeed under pressure.”  Clearing the Bases(Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location 769-770
• “The odd thing wasn’t the four Ks; I’d done that before, and would do it again. The odd thing is, and I guarantee it’s unique in baseball history, those four Ks took only twelve pitches. Good morning, good afternoon, good night—in each at-bat. If I swung, I missed. If I took, it was a strike. I challenge anyone to strike out four times on twelve pitches.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location 829-831
• “In 1985, I moved to first base to make room for a scrappy prospect named Rick Schu. I loved it. At first, you’re in on almost every play. You can talk trash with the opposing players, umps, and coaches.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location 860-862
• “It started in 1988. Something every veteran ballplayer eventually experiences. The beginning of the end. What used to be easy begins to become hard. Range in the field. Aggressiveness on the bases. And, most important, bat speed. They fade away, right before your eyes. Nagging injuries take longer to heal. The travel, the autographing, the day-to-day responsibilities you used to take for granted become burdensome. You start thinking the unthinkable: life without baseball.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location 896-899
• “I started to feel like I was getting in the way. I wasn’t contributing, and although I knew manager Nick Leyva was in my corner, I also knew he had to be taking heat about keeping me in the four-hole. The focus of the team during that period was basically me—and my home run total. This was uncomfortable, and the losing only made the situation worse. I started looking for real signs, and I also prayed for direction, as this was a life decision that would affect a lot of people. My hitting slump continued. I went 2 for 21 on the road trip, which along with the losing was a sign in itself. Then, during the Sunday getaway game, came the epiphany. The Giants had men on first and second, and Robby Thompson hit a double-play ground ball right at me. It went through my legs and into left to load the bases. Another sign, this one that I was losing it defensively. It was almost like I didn’t want to be in the game, like I was afraid of the ball. In my prime, I would have taken a broken nose rather than let that ball go through me. The final sign came on the next pitch, a Will Clark grand slam. As he rounded the bases and ran in front of me at third base, I made my decision: This was my last game. Just recalling it puts a lump in my throat. I dreaded the announcement, the press conference, the cameras in my face, the interviews, a media circus, all that would go with it, but at the same time, and most of all, I felt relief. It was time. The weight would be off my shoulders. I saw a Phillies team free to rebuild, to move on without me as the ball and chain.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location 953-957
• “That made my last base hit that bunt single way back in L.A. My first hit in my first full year in the majors, 1973, was also a bunt single. Bookend bunt singles, sixteen years apart, with 548 homers stacked in the middle.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  970-972
• “I had scripted a small farewell speech for the press conference, one I now see was pretty pathetic. The opening line, “Twenty years ago I left Dayton, Ohio, with two bad knees…” Well, it just flat stunk. What I was trying to say was that when I departed from home twenty years ago, the odds of me standing before a national TV audience explaining why I couldn’t play another game—I was done at 2,404—were off the charts. I had no chance of doing what I did, but it happened.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  988-992
• “I say that with mixed feelings, as I always wished that I could have enjoyed being Mike Schmidt more than I did. I never really allowed myself to have fun on the field. Actually, the real joy started then, when I began to see who I was, finally understand what I meant to my teammates, the Phillies organization, and my fans. The blinders were removed. For the first time, I could see and feel everyone around me. If only I could have had that experience while in uniform…”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1002-1005
• “The remainder of the 1989 season was easy enough to handle. We traveled with the kids, enjoyed being normal, and didn’t miss baseball in any way, shape, or form. That might be a little strong. Sure, I tuned in to the games now and then to watch my old buddies, and I watched a few innings of the postseason. But to say I was a fan would be a stretch.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1014-1016
• “I was at a luncheon celebrating the release of my Road to 500 videos, an event attended by representatives of the Philadelphia sports media. Following the speeches, Stan Hochman, a writer for the Philadelphia Daily News, cornered me, and we got into a general discussion about the Phillies organization, past and present. I told Sam I thought the organization wasn’t as attentive to details as it once had been, and that certain things—the AstroTurf, the dugouts, the clubhouses—weren’t being maintained as immaculately as in the past. I told Stan that we actually had a family of stray cats roaming under the stands after hours and that the dugout runway to the clubhouse smelled like cat piss. Needless to say, I said this without thinking, as I should have, that he was taking it all down, and certainly without meaning to disrespect the people responsible for stadium maintenance. The next day, Stan’s Daily News article reported—accurately, I’m afraid—what I had said. That afternoon when I arrived at the clubhouse, I found a sweeper, disinfectant, and other household cleaning articles in my locker, plus a bouquet of flowers. The worst part, of course, was that I had unintentionally offended several close friends, especially clubhouse man Kenny Bush and stadium operations director Mike DeMuzio. I should have been smart enough to know that (a) the stadium was managed by the City of Philadelphia, and (b) certain friends might be hurt by seeing my words in print. I drove another nail into my coffin when I was quoted in a Philadelphia publication following my retirement as saying, “The Phillies are my team.” I meant simply that I had given my life to the Phillies—which I had. To this day, I cannot understand how anybody could think otherwise. But some in the front office evidently did. (P.S.: The dugout runway did smell like cat piss.)”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1035-1049
• “But just as I thought baseball and I had parted ways, a really cool opportunity came along in 1992: I was asked to be a part of an ownership group pursuing the newly awarded expansion franchise in South Florida. This would mean going from a broken-down, somewhat bitter old ballplayer to part-owner of a brand-new big league ball club at the age of forty-two. It took me about ten seconds to say yes. For almost a year, I traveled back and forth from Philadelphia to South Florida, meeting and greeting politicians and community leaders, and helping develop our group’s formal presentation to Major League Baseball’s expansion committee. I visited Joe Robbie Stadium in Miami with our group to offer my opinion on the proposed baseball layout and tour the location of our future offices. It was exhilarating because it represented a whole new page in my life. I was getting a small ownership piece, and I was going to be GM of our new ball club. I was back, baby! No more worries about what I was going to do with the rest of my professional life. I’d use every ounce of energy, just like when I played, only this time to build a club from scratch. Heck, we’d go beat the Phillies! There was no downside. I already wanted to move to Florida in the worst way. Now I had a perfect reason. Bring on the coat and tie!”Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1078-1088
• “For the better part of my twenty years of professional baseball, I was labeled as a player who “overthought” everything. I was called cocky…aloof…introspective…introverted…even, by some of the media guys, Mr. Cool. “If Schmitty would only stop thinking so much,” people close to the team often said, “he might actually enjoy the game.” There’s a lot of truth to that. My obsessive-compulsive-impulsive nature might have held me back: I really didn’t enjoy the game as much as most other players. I made too much out of all the issues that confronted me, from the o-fers to the smell in the dugout.”  Clearing the Bases(Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1107-1112
• “Seems I always wanted to be something other than what I was. I think it’s called insecurity. If anyone should have been secure, I should have been. After all, I had a long, successful career that took me to the Hall of Fame. But I wasn’t what I projected on the outside—a cool, cocky guy who was in control, who accepted the spotlight, and who was happy to bear the responsibilities of stardom. Not so. Not nearly so. Inside the clubhouse, I was comfortable with leadership; on the field, I preferred blending in. I played a “quiet” game. Intense and super-competitive, but quiet. I played with blinders on, like a racehorse, without looking to the right or left. I tried to lead the league in everything and stay under the radar at the same time. That’s hard to do, but I knew it was the best fit for my personality, even though it isolated me from fans. I wish I could have had the whole package—like, say, Reggie Jackson. Reggie thrived on being the star attraction. He wasn’t afraid to bring attention to himself following a home run, or play to the crowd during a game. He was hated in visiting parks; I was cheered in visiting parks. The only place I occasionally felt hated was in Philadelphia during a bad slump.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1115-1124
• “From the time I was a kid, through this morning when I woke up, I’ve wanted—no, needed—to be number one. I’m hard-wired to want to be the best, to win, and to think anything less is not worth pursuing. Oh, sure, I loved to play ball, but I needed to be the best, needed to win all my battles. That’s how I was programmed and that’s how all major league players are programmed. If they weren’t driven in that way, they wouldn’t be there. Once there, it only gets worse. I won the National League home run title eight times. Who the hell finished second? Other than his agent, who cares?”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1147-1151
• “Players are compared in order to establish their value. Player A hits 50 home runs per year and makes $15 million. Player B looks at Player A and wonders if Player A has an edge, something—maybe big, maybe little—that Player B doesn’t have, but might get. A certain bat, a special training drill, a particularly knowledgeable coach, a potent dietary supplement…or maybe a performance-enhancing drug? As long as society rewards people for winning, for being better than the competition, rather than on sweat and effort, much less on some intangible relating to the greater good of humanity, then competitors will look for every edge they can. And they’re all going to agree on one thing: The playing field had better damn well be level.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1157-1162
• “Few players in my era prepared and practiced with my intensity. I was so driven to be the best player that I actually deprived myself of enjoying my success. I was obsessed with preparation. I was convinced that if I dedicated more time, focus, and sheer hard work to the game than my opponents did, I would eventually end up on top. And I did.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1206-1209
• “Perhaps this is a good place to pose an obvious but easily overlooked question: Do steroids guarantee success? More specifically, can steroids turn a poor hitter into a great one? Absolutely not! There is no correlation between the ability to hit a baseball and the addition of forty pounds of lean muscle mass. If you can’t hit a curve at 180 pounds, you’re not going to be able to hit it at 220. A great hitter at 180 will still be a great hitter at 220, but no greater in terms of his ability to put his bat on the ball. What’s different is the increase in bat speed and leverage—and hence, in power—that accompanies the new muscle mass. And power is the ticket to the pot of gold. The home run is king.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1353-1359
• “Okay, okay—I know it’s not the same thing. But I would be flabbergasted if any records set during the Steroid Era would ever be stricken from the record books or qualified in any way. Numbers don’t lie. People, yes, but not numbers.”Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1385-1387
• “As for baseball’s history, my suggestion is to recognize and honor those who shattered the most hallowed record in sports, the individual season home run mark. No asterisks. No annotations. Simply salute McGwire’s 70 and Bonds’s 73 as products of strength, timing, talent, and a mind-staggering work ethic—because all those qualities were abundantly present when they accomplished their prodigious feats. But in honoring individual achievement, be mindful of the era. In his book Juicing the Game, Howard Bryant quotes Jeff Horrigan, a Boston Herald reporter: “There were no rules. Players are like children. They push everything as far as they can until someone stops them. Everyone did whatever they wanted…I blame the era, I don’t blame the man.”Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1400-1406
• “The size of the baseball was standardized back in the 1860s. It was to weigh between 5 and 5.25 ounces, with a circumference between 9 and 9.25 inches. It was manufactured by winding yarn around a small core of cork, rubber, or similar material, then encasing the sphere in horsehide stained white with slightly raised red stitches.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1769-1771
• “The strike zone is defined in the rules as the area over home plate between the hollow beneath the kneecap and the midpoint between the belt and shoulders. Home plate is 17 inches wide and 12 inches deep. For a batter who is six feet tall and assumes a “normal” semi crouched batting stance, the vertical dimension of the strike zone is approximately 36 inches. Multiply 36 x 17 x 12 and you have a strike “box” of 7,344 cubic inches. A ball passing through this zone (as the strike box is customarily known) is a strike.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location  1873-1876
• “Today’s kids feel tremendous pressure to develop as athletes and play on winning teams. Many will put years of tee-ball, Little League, high school, and college games under their belt, with parents yelling and screaming like life depended on whether you win or lose. Parents fight for positions for their kids on traveling teams and spend thousands of dollars on private coaching, equipment, tournament fees, and airfare. No one pretends it’s about fun for the better players; it’s about preparing them for the next level. Many parents of talented kids see their offspring’s athletic prowess as their own ticket to success. Look at those ballplayers on television making millions. Why not my son? He can play. If I can just get him to focus, to work harder, to spend more time on his drills. Sure, not all parents fall into this category, but today there is a definite tendency to push kids very hard, very early. Look, my parents took me to Little League games, they worked in the concession stand, and they sponsored teams. But they never saw me as a kid destined for stardom, much less their ticket to a life on Easy Street. They wanted me to grow up, go to college, be well-rounded, be what I wanted to be. They didn’t push me. Baseball for me was never a hyper-competitive, pressure-cooker deal as it so often is for so many kids today.”  Clearing the Bases (Schmidt, Mike; Waggoner, Glen) Kindle Location 309-318