Minggu, 14 Agustus 2011

Pirates manager Hurdle is guided by history

By Bob Cohn, PITTSBURGH TRIBUNE-REVIEW
http://www.pittsburghlive.com/x/pittsburghtrib/sports/?_s_icmp=nav_sports
Sunday, August 14, 2011


While the Pirates were finding different ways to lose, and lose often, manager Clint Hurdle rocked steady to the beat of the same message. His message.

"How you get through (adversity) as an organization and a team is what can define you actually and make you better in the long run," he said last Sunday after a 10th consecutive loss.

This has been a prevailing theme of Hurdle's. And who better to spread it than a brush-cut, slogan-spouting testament to the long run? "There's not much that's been thrown at me that's gonna catch me off guard," he said.

Certainly not a 10-game losing streak, distasteful as it was. Hurdle has dealt with larger issues.

"It's a game," he often says, win or lose.

As the Rockies' manager in 2007, Hurdle guided his club to the World Series a year after it finished 10 games under .500. In his first season with the Pirates, he has overseen a big improvement from last year's 105-loss disaster and kept the team competitive longer than what seemed reasonable.

But before trying to reinvent the Pirates, Hurdle had to reinvent himself.

"I've gone through an obstacle course and come out the other side bigger, stronger and better," he said. "I've learned and lived, on and off the field.

"Usually behind leadership you hope to have good judgment," Hurdle said, sitting at his desk inside PNC Park. "And good judgment's needed in times of adversity. How do you get good judgment? Through experience. And how do you get the experience? Through bad judgment."

Hurdle would know. A recovering alcoholic, he helped sabotage his promising career on the field and lived less than responsibly off it. In many ways, life began at 40.

"There were challenges that were presented to me," said Hurdle, 54, "and some I manufactured on my own."

The journey

Terry Bross, who pitched for Hurdle on three minor league clubs and in the Florida Instructional League, said, "The thing about Clint is because of the journey he's taken, he keeps everything in perspective. I never saw him get too high or too low. He's shouldered a lot in his life. And he does a very good job of sharing it."

While managing the Mets' Jackson (Miss.) affiliate in 1990, Hurdle noticed that Bross pitched better when he was angry. So Hurdle told Bross to rile himself up by stalking around the mound and trying to look intimidating. It wasn't hard. A former St. John's basketball player, Bross stood 6-foot-9.

Hurdle also suggested Bross grow a droopy Fu Manchu mustache, creating a taller version of Al Hrabosky, the colorful reliever and psyche-out artist known as "The Mad Hungarian" and Hurdle's ex-teammate. This would violate the Mets' minor league facial hair policy, but Hurdle got a pass.

Performing the full Hrabosky, Bross set a club saves record and was called up the next year. Although his major league career lasted just 10 games (he also pitched in Japan), he credits Hurdle with helping him get a taste of the big time.

"He's one of the most influential people I've ever been around and one of the best motivators," Bross said. "No matter what you thought you were going through, he always made you think you're better than you are."

Things can change

Twice divorced, Hurdle met Karla Yearick, an accountant from Muncy, Pa., while managing Williamsport for the Mets in 1991. They were married eight years later. Today they have two children: Christian, who is 6, and Madison, who celebrated her ninth birthday at a party last Sunday at PNC Park. Hurdle also has a daughter, Ashley, 26, from a previous marriage.

Maddie, as the family calls Madison, was born with a genetic disorder, Prader-Willi syndrome. Symptoms can vary, but PWS generally causes a chronic feeling of hunger, learning issues, and social and motor deficits. It affects 1 in 12,000-15,000 people.

The family's struggles with the disease have been well-chronicled, and the Hurdles are deeply involved with the national Prader-Willi Association. Clint is a spokesperson. In 2005, he missed several games while managing the Rockies after complications put Maddie in the hospital and things looked scary. He calls Maddie "my angel."

He is supposed to brood about his playing career or bust up the furniture over a losing streak?

"Right now is the time I think I can handle some adversity," he said.

An outfielder and first baseman, Hurdle rose and fell almost at once. He joined the Royals fulltime in 1978 pictured on the cover of Sports Illustrated with the words, "This Year's Phenom." He ended his career as the Mets' bullpen catcher in 1987, a bust to many, even though he played well at times and helped the Royals reach the 1980 World Series.

Reflecting on one particularly rocky time that included rumors he was gay, Hurdle several years ago wryly noted to reporters, "I saw with the snap of finger, things can change. In a period of four weeks I was hurt, separated, divorced and then supposedly a homosexual. It was amazing."

Defining moments

The reinvention of Clint Hurdle has occurred in stages, a telling moment here, some bad judgment there, the occasional epiphany, advice both heeded and ignored. About when he was 30, he said, coming off his second divorce, he took a walk with his dad, Big Clint.

"One of the all-time best walks," Hurdle said, as if ranking them. "He said, 'Life's not fair, boy. You need to get this. You need to listen to me. You don't need to talk. This isn't the time for your questions. Life's not fair. What you do in situations you're handed is gonna dictate how you're gonna live your life and how you're gonna respect your life and what you make of your life."

Hurdle took the message to heart, but the real transformation happened a few years later when he met Karla. "I have reference points for growth," he said. "But she is one of the defining moments of my life."

She made him wait a few years after he proposed.

"I think he had a lot more things to figure out about himself," Karla Hurdle said. "I told him he would never be able to make me happy until he made himself happy."

Hurdle said he told Karla not long ago, "I know how much God loves me by the fact that he brought you into my life."

If Karla is one "defining moment," the other is Maddie. Hurdle's sister, Bobbi Jo, once told a reporter that Maddie took Clint "to a place where he'd never been." He was asked where that place was.

"It's given me the understanding of what unconditional love is all about," he said while in his PNC Park office. "It was a term I thought I had a grasp on. I thought I had a pretty good feeling about it. I didn't."

Karla Hurdle said, "You don't raise your hand to be picked for this; you kind of get elected by God. I don't think we would have gotten to this place in our relationship had we not been given Maddie as this gift.

"When you have someone with special needs, you have to remove yourself from the picture sometimes. They come first. We've accepted this. We know we've been given this awesome platform in baseball, and we can help bring awareness to the syndrome. When you do that you kind of give up a selfish piece of yourself."

Reaching out

Hurdle volunteers that he is still involved with Alcoholics Anonymous, preaches the benefits of therapy and, yes, expresses how much he loves his wife. Such subjects usually go unbroached in baseball. Hurdle doesn't care.

"You've got a broken bone, you go see a bone doctor," he said. "You've got a broken head, you go see a head doctor. You've got a broken heart, you might want to find somebody you can share that with.

"Most people go through things that don't work out, and they only look at how it affected them. I was able to take another step through counseling. All the damage I caused to other people. I never had that side of my life. It was all about me. The sun rose and set on the crack of my (rear) every day."

A large, robust man, Hurdle uses his voice like a musical instrument, changing keys and chords, punching some words hard, drawing out others. He resonates. He can intimidate and enlighten in the same sentence. "He's a very dominant person when he walks into a room," said his former teammate, Jamie Quirk. Hurdle also is fond of slogans that proffer wisdom and advice, like "Multitasking makes me multimediocre," and "Delay is not denial."

Whatever helps.

"I went through dealing with addiction," he said. "I went through two failed marriages and another marriage that has substance and roots, and understanding the collateral damage that I could have caused to others through my drinking and bad relationships.

"I've reached out and gotten some help and gotten some things right. Because I want to. I wanted to be better. I felt my family deserved better, my mom and dad, my sisters, my teammates. Even late in my career. And especially as a coach and a manager."

Just craziness

With the Royals, Hurdle shared a house with veterans George Brett and Quirk. That is, until Brett, who owned the house, kicked out Hurdle. The place came to be known as Animal House.

Hurdle drank heavily, ignoring his family's pleas to stop. During the 1981 strike, he got a job tending bar.

"It was just craziness," said Quirk, now a Houston Astros coach. "Clint was starting to get platooned and knew a lefty was going the next day, so his hours became a little longer at night and George had to go out and play. Not that he went to bed early, either."

Quirk and Hurdle went their separate ways after Hurdle was traded from Kansas City to Cincinnati in late 1981. When Hurdle became Rockies manager in 2002, Quirk called to congratulate his former teammate. The next thing Quirk knew, Hurdle hired him as a coach.

"If you had asked me when we were 25 years old, do you think Clint Hurdle would ever manage in the big leagues, I would absolutely say no," Quirk said. "It would have never entered my mind.

"He was just happy-go-lucky."

Drinking, injuries and attitude helped derail Hurdle's playing career. "He just didn't take care of himself," Quirk said. "And there was a lot of pressure on him."

When Quirk interviewed for the job, "Right away, I could see he was a different guy," he said. "The more I worked with him, the more I could see how intelligent he is."

A life experience

Hurdle said he became a Christian when he was 17, "but I used Jesus as an ATM card for 23 years. I'd go get some Jesus when I needed some Jesus. And there were plenty of times I didn't need it."

Nowadays, Hurdle said he asks God every day to be the best husband, father, friend and manager he can be.

People still send Hurdle the Sports Illustrated and ask him to autograph the cover. He complies.

"It does not bother me," he said. "It's a great reference, or should I say a North Star. Who I used to be. It's a life experience."

More life experiences: The Mets organization fired Hurdle after a shakeup in 1993, even though he was considered a promising young manager. The Rockies fired Hurdle in 2009 less than two years after he led them to their first and only World Series.

It's just a game, Hurdle often says. But don't tell him how important it is to other people, not to mention himself. He is a baseball lifer who plunges headfirst into the job.

Still, at some point you have to get out and towel off. Hurdle likes to read. About 20 books rest on his office desk. In one pile, a Vince Lombardi inspirational tome sits atop Keith Richards' autobiography. Not a surprise; his real passion is music, all types. "I'm all over the joint," he said. He is converting his 10,000 CDs to digital, an ongoing project. He has four iPods.

But family comes first. The Hurdles are moving into their new house in Hampton, where Karla's five-minute rule still applies. Hurdle gets to vent about the game for no longer than that. "Maddie doesn't want to hear about missed cutoff men or three-run homers," he said.

"Kid time," Hurdle said, is always first thing in the morning. Maddie gets up first, and they have breakfast. Then Christian stumbles down "like a college kid."

After a lopsided loss during the streak, Hurdle and Maddie talked about the pierogi race at the stadium and swimming. It wasn't until the next day that he got up, gave Karla a hug and said, "We got slaughtered last night."

Karla laughed. "Yes you did," she said.

There was another game that night.

Photo: Justin Merriman | Tribune-Review

Sabtu, 13 Agustus 2011

A count your blessings start

Saturday, August 13, 2011
http://www.post-gazette.com/


LANDOVER, Md. -- For those of you who walked away from February's Super Bowl muttering something about how if you never saw Keyaron Fox (pictured above) again it would be too soon, well, too soon arrived on the first bus.

Disguised as a Washington Redskin in a maroon shirt with a 51 on it, Fox can't hide anywhere in the wounded memory of a special teams faux pas that might have sent the Steelers tumbling backward down the Stairway to 7, depending on how far you want to stretch credulity.

Fox's totally unnecessary unnecessary roughness penalty (maybe that's why they call it that) on a kickoff return sentenced Ben Roethlisberger's offense to start at its 13 rather than the 28 with 2:02 left on the Super Bowl XLV clock in Dallas. Five plays later, the Packers celebrated a six-point victory.

How all that escaped mention in the August issue of Men's Journal is known only to James Harrison, his rant coordinator, and the editors. Roethlisberger got ripped; Rashard Mendenhall, too, but Fox somehow escaped scrutiny for that dark night.

Apparently, the Super Bowl audience included several members of the Redskins coaching staff, which, after signing him as a free agent, shrewdly kept Fox off special teams for the inaugural exhibition game. So the first time you actually saw Keyaron since Feb. 6 was at 8:32 p.m. Friday, when the Redskins sent him in as a stuntman for veteran linebacker London Fletcher.

At Fox's first appearance of 2011 and. unlike after his last appearance in a Steelers uniform, Pittsburgh scored. Isaac Redman danced 22 yards through the gizzards of the Washington defense to tie the score, 7-7, long after just about every Steelers starter had departed, most of them unscathed.

Lest you have forgotten, here is a little football refresher: The object of these exhibitions is almost purely to be the team that escapes with most of your crucial components unscathed.

The high risk, little if any reward nature of August football was illustrated early in the second quarter when linebacker Lawrence Timmons and safety Ryan Mundy arrived simultaneously between the 8 and the 3 on the shirt of Redskins tight end Fred Davis.

They broke up Rex Grossman's pass most assuredly, but Mundy crumpled to the grass and Timmons rolled over and over like a bear shot with a tranquilizer gun. Both left under their own power, but some damage had already had been done.

Cornerback Ike Taylor apparently broke his thumb, and it wasn't clear at deadline whether that would keep him off the field for long, or at all, for that matter, and it won't impact his ability to catch the ball very much, as catching the ball never was among his abilities.

Backup quarterback Byron Leftwich repeatedly escaped injury, most notably when 306-pound defensive tackle Stephen Bowen flattened him 10 yards deep in the Steelers backfield, having slipped through the responsibility area of second-year offensive lineman Chris Scott.

Leftwich hung around long enough to complete six of 10 passes, including a 29-yarder to Antonio Brown and appeared to enjoy cavorting on a D.C. area lawn much as he did as a high school quarterback at Washington's H.D. Woodson High School during the Clinton administration.

Scott was playing right guard in that particular second-quarter configuration of the offensive line, and there were three sets of interchangeable blockers in the first half alone. For a team that used five different offensive-line combinations on the way to Super Bowl and then released both starting tackles (Max Starks and Flozell Adams), that helped to show how unsettled the front wall will remain at least until starting left guard Chris Kemoeatu's knee settles into something the resembles health.

By the time the third quarter started to leak away, a fourth combination consisted of rarely used Tony Hills at left tackle, rookie Keith Williams at left guard, former Pitt grinder John Malecki at center, the inexperienced Scott at right guard, and the never used Kyle Jolly at right tackle. In a fifth version, second-round draft pick Marcus Gilbert came in at left tackle, bumping Hills all the way to right guard.

Of course, it's not as bleak as all that. Pro Bowl but not Super Bowl center Maurkice Pouncey started, Super Bowl center Doug Legursky started at left guard, and veterans Jonathan Scott and Willie Colon opened at tackle.

"It feels good after resting," Pouncey said about getting back on stage. "But I've got to get in the groove of playing against other guys. We'll get ready for it. I'm a little rusty, but we'll pick it up next week."

Coach Mike Tomlin did well to get them to the sideline almost as fast as Roethlisberger, who stopped by the huddle for a cup of coffee, but didn't take more than a slurp before bumping his hand and thumping his hip. Neither was considered serious. So, after their first halfway serious appearance since the Super Bowl, the Steelers will return to Latrobe counting their blessings:

No one left on a cart.

And it was good to see Keyaron Fox again, especially in another uniform.

Gene Collier: gcollier@post-gazette.com. More articles by this author

Read more: http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/11225/1167155-150-0.stm#ixzz1UuD38KHu

Jumat, 12 Agustus 2011

Beating Brewers would be cool

By Dejan Kovacevic, PITTSBURGH TRIBUNE-REVIEW
http://www.pittsburghlive.com/x/pittsburghtrib/sports/?_s_icmp=nav_sports
Friday, August 12, 2011

MILWAUKEE — There's no Eiffel Tower, Golden Gate Bridge or Statue of Liberty. No, the monument of note in this city's center is a bronze statue of "The Fonz," commemorating the iconic sitcom "Happy Days" that was set here. The hair is greased back, the leather jacket loose, both thumbs up in a permanent state of cool.

The Brewers have some of that, too, considering they're one of baseball's hottest teams.

Nyjer Morgan, the former Pirates center fielder who uses the alias "Tony Plush" for no good reason, told me Thursday that he's "cooler than a polar bear's toenail." Prince Fielder, the megaslugging first baseman, accepted my thanks for an interview at the All-Star Game last month by replying, "Cool, baby." Even mustachioed mascot Bernie Brewer, with his 12,432 Twitter followers, is a little cool.

The Pirates?

Eh.

They begin a three-game series Friday night at Miller Park, and I'm sure they would love to douse first-place Milwaukee on the heels of taking two of three in San Francisco from the defending World Series champions.

But, wow, this could have been so much more.

"Aw, man, are you kidding?" Morgan said. "Buccos and Brew Crew with the whole baseball world looking on? It's just kind of a shame what happened over there."

No kidding. If it seems like only a couple of weeks have passed since the Pirates were looking down on Milwaukee in the Central Division, rather than 10 1/2 games upward, that's because, hey, it was! Then the Pirates plunged further and faster out of first place than any team in history and thus arrive in Milwaukee yet again in the role of patsy.

Or is that Potsie?

For those needing a refresher:

» The Pirates have lost 33 of their past 36 at Miller Park, dating to the start of 2007. That includes a 22-game losing streak that was the longest between any teams in baseball since 1969.

» In those 36 games, Pirates pitchers have a 6.61 ERA and have allowed 59 home runs.

» That run would be even worse if not for Ryan Doumit belting ninth-inning home runs on back-to-back days off all-time saves leader Trevor Hoffman last season. What were the odds?

» Overall in the past five years, the Pirates are 17-51 against the Brewers, including 0-5 this season.

» The 20-0 loss to the Brewers on April 22, 2010, at PNC Park was the worst in the Pirates' century-plus of existence, and it was part of a four-game run in which Milwaukee outscored them, 53-4.

Whatever you do, don't call this a rivalry. A rivalry takes two.

And maybe that underscores what the Pirates realistically could accomplish this weekend.

Already, Clint Hurdle and his players have blown through obstacles that hadn't been approached in 18 years. They were above .500 for 39 days. They were in first place for a week. They had three All-Stars. They packed people into PNC Park, and they drew enough national attention that poor Fox is now stuck airing the matinee here Saturday.

Time was, the only national press the Pirates could get in Milwaukee was for clubbing human sausages.

This is still different.

This is still a chance to check another item off the Pirates' list, maybe one of the most imposing they face. Let's remember how the Pirates of the 1980s didn't find their stride until they started beating the mouthy New York Mets. Or how the Penguins needed to end that epic 42-game, 15-year drought in Philadelphia. Or how the Steelers' dynasty took off after reversing a 9-32 history with the Cleveland Browns.

Few things are more therapeutic for a perpetual loser than to vanquish a nemesis, especially one that's disliked as much as the Brewers are — hello, Ryan Braun — by many in the Pirates' clubhouse.

Look at it emotionally, courtesy of Doumit: "Yeah, it would be nice to do well against that team. That's an understatement."

Or analytically, courtesy of general manager Neal Huntington: "It's tough to be one of those very good teams if there's anybody taking it to you. If you're 10 games under against one team, you're going to have a hard time being 10 games over .500 overall. I want to see it on the flip side, where we're taking it to somebody instead of them taking it to us."

Yeah, these Pirates would be a game over .500 if they were 5-0 against the Brewers.

Maybe someone can thump that jukebox back to life this weekend

Kamis, 11 Agustus 2011

Ravens determined to finally solve their Pittsburgh problem

By Don Banks
Inside the NFL
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/
August 10, 2011

OWINGS MILLS, Md. -- You wouldn't think you could show up at Baltimore's team complex, notebook in hand, and find a bunch of folks eager to talk about the "P'' word, but I'm happy to report there's no running from the truth going on here at Ravens training camp. Baltimore knows it must confront and conquer its Pittsburgh problem. And soon.

When the NFL's 2011 schedule came out in April, there were the Ravens and Steelers matched up once again in Week 1, an immediate renewal of what many consider the league's fiercest rivalry going. So Baltimore's season will begin the same way last year's ended, facing hated Pittsburgh, the team that it can't seem to beat when it matters most. The Ravens are fully aware that the only thing standing between them and where they want to go is that team in black and gold.

"This is all or nothing this year,'' said Ravens outside linebacker Terrell Suggs after a Tuesday afternoon practice. "When this journey first started, a lot of us were young men. I'm still a young man. I'm only 28. But I'm in my ninth year, so I feel like a window of opportunity is closing. There have been plenty of years that we let championship teams walk up outta here because of that team to the northwest of us. They've been the reason for that. So if we don't get over this hump this year, I don't know what else to say.''

Suggs is rarely, if ever, at a loss for words, so you know he's serious when it comes to the frustration level in the Baltimore locker room. The Ravens in the three-year John Harbaugh coaching era are a sterling 32-16 (.667), and the only team in the NFL to win at least one playoff game in each of the past three seasons. They're both accomplished and respected throughout the league, and they're known as one of the league's most resilient and resourceful franchises, with a quality coaching staff and a superb front office.

But the Ravens haven't figured out how to win their division yet and really go places in the playoffs, because they can't get past Pittsburgh. They're just 2-6 in the Harbaugh era against the Steelers, with two of the past three seasons ending with painful postseason losses at Heinz Field (in the 2008 AFC title game, and in the 2010 AFC divisional round). And they were only in the position of needing to again go the wild card route in the playoffs last season due to a season-turning Week 13 loss at home to Pittsburgh, when the Steelers rallied for a 13-10 win on the strength of Troy Polamalu's strip sack of Joe Flacco in the game's final minutes. Both teams finished 12-4, but Pittsburgh won the division via tiebreaker.

That play by Polamalu not only changed the arc of the Ravens' season, it very likely helped get Baltimore offensive line coach John Matsko fired in January. When Polamalu came clean into the backfield and forced Flacco to fumble, highlighting an obvious missed blocking assignment, Steelers linebacker LaMarr Woodley scooped up the loose ball and returned it to the Ravens 9, setting up Pittsburgh's winning touchdown. Seemingly that's how consequential every play in the Ravens-Steelers blood feud has become.

"They've won the games that matter, and you have to respect them for it,'' said Ravens running back Ray Rice, entering his fourth NFL season. "They're a great organization. They play hard, and they're everything people say they are. We're toe and toe and there with them, but obviously we've got to win the big games to get acknowledged with them. It's one of those situations where they know how to win. You have to give it to them. They know how to win. I think we know how to win as well, just not against them.''

If anything, the Ravens' 31-24 divisional round loss at Pittsburgh was even more inexplicable, with Baltimore building a commanding 21-7 halftime lead and silencing the hostile Heinz Field crowd, but then disintegrating beneath a steady stream of turnovers and dropped passes as Pittsburgh stormed back. It is plenty noted in the Ravens locker room that both years they've lost to the Steelers in the playoffs, Pittsburgh has gone on to represent the AFC in the Super Bowl (after the 2008 and 2010 seasons).

"All of them hurt,'' said Suggs, of the losses to the Steelers. "They all leave a bitter taste in your mouth. They've done it to us a few times now. And the thing is, in some of those games we've had 'em. We pretty much beat ourselves. If you go back and look at some of those last seven or eight games, at some point in the game you thought, Oh my God, Baltimore's going to win this game.

"It's the way we're losing to them. If we lose and flat out get beat, we get beat. But to give up plays and have them come back on us, it just stings even more. Our season was decided on a couple plays last year. They made the plays and we've hurt ourselves.''

For longtime Ravens general manager Ozzie Newsome, the mistakes made by Baltimore in the playoff loss had plenty to do with how Pittsburgh imposes its will on an opponent as a game goes on. For more than 30 years now, first as a Hall of Fame Browns tight end, and now as the respected front office boss of the Ravens, Newsome has been watching teams self-destruct against the Steelers.

"There was something about that 21-7 lead that I wasn't comfortable with,'' Newsome said. "There was something about it. There are times when you get a lead and you think you're one play away from it being a blowout. But I just didn't feel that way that day, because I know how they play and how they feed off one big play.

"We made mistakes and we don't normally do that. But they cause a lot of that to happen. We gave them some things, but they were forcing us to do some of those things. That's how good they are. They have a resolve about themselves, and if you're not willing to play them for four quarters, then you can lose the game. You can't play for just one half.''

In some ways, it has come to this: The annual showdowns with Pittsburgh are the only games on the Ravens' schedule that really matter. Newsome even acknowledged it somewhat when I asked him if he puts his roster together every year with the thought of how to beat the Steelers in the front of his mind. He doesn't do that with AFC North rivals Cincinnati and Cleveland.

"Always Pittsburgh,'' Newsome said. "When I talk to most of the players at the [scouting] combine, I talk to them about 'How are you going to react when we go to Pittsburgh and play at Heinz Field?' I want to get a reaction, and the ones that are timid, I tell them I have a tough time thinking you could go to Heinz Field and help me win a football game. So yeah, it's there.''

It's there all right. The dominance of the Steelers is a topic that's never far from the brains of the Ravens and their fans, and some players know the battles with Pittsburgh have become at least partly mental. To pretend the Steelers aren't in the Ravens' heads at this point, after all the recent history, would be ludicrous.

"I'm sure there is some of that,'' Ravens quarterback Joe Flacco told me. "I don't know if I like admitting that, but sports is so mental. No matter what you say, a lot of it comes down to the mental side of it. These guys have beat us. When it comes down to it, they've figured out a way to win the game. And as much we don't want to admit that, it probably has a lot to do with the mental side of it.

"They've continued to push through. Things have not gone their way, but they've still fought through and gotten it done. We've bounced back, too, but we just haven't done it throughout the full 60 minutes. That's something that wins these games, and while both really are good teams, that mental aspect is the extra edge you get.''

The margin between the Steelers and Ravens remains razor slight. No game has been decided by more than nine points in the past three years, and six of their past eight meetings have been decided by four or fewer. Baltimore has yet to beat Steelers quarterback Ben Roethlisberger in the Flacco/Harbaugh era, winning at home in 2009 when Dennis Dixon started for an injured Big Ben, and winning at Pittsburgh in Week 4 of last season, when Roethlisberger was still suspended and Charlie Batch started for the Steelers.

Despite three strong seasons to begin his NFL career, Flacco will likely never get his due as one of the game's elite quarterbacks until he and his Ravens get over their Pittsburgh problem and start to regularly beat the Steelers. Newsome and others in the organization point out that once upon a time the Pistons owned Michael Jordan and the Bulls, but then the worm finally turned and a string of NBA titles ensued for Chicago.

"That's the hurdle we've got to clear, and that's the history we're going to have to overcome,'' Rice said. "Maybe when we beat them, we won't just beat them. A win is a win. But if we make a statement, and beat them in a way that they know they were really beaten, I think that leaves a taste.''

Week 1 in Baltimore's M&T Bank Stadium, the Ravens will once again start pushing that rock back up that hill, trying to get past those same familiar Steelers and back into the AFC playoff field. Hopefully as a higher seed and in a position of strength this time. In Week 9, the two rivals will meet again in Pittsburgh, on NBC's Sunday Night Football. I think I like Baltimore's chances to finally flip the script on the Steelers this year, and Flacco to me is the key for the Ravens putting together a run of their own in this lopsided series.

"I agree, and I think we're building a team around here that's going to be good for a while,'' Flacco said, echoing the conventional wisdom on Baltimore's roster. "When we finally jell and get over that hump, I think we're going to be able to take it to the next level and be a team that's around for a while and win some Super Bowls.''

But it's not that long haul that Suggs and some other Ravens veterans are focused on like a laser. Linebacker Ray Lewis recently told CBSSports.com that "I feel like now we have enough pieces in place to make a good run at the Super Bowl," and that he'll retire if the Ravens do indeed win the big one. He, Suggs and Ed Reed want to beat the Steelers right now, and start rewriting a story line that has grown bitter and impossibly tired in Baltimore: Good Ravens team loses to a better Steelers team, and watches Pittsburgh move on in the playoffs.

"It's like a rerun,'' Suggs said. "Everybody knows how this story ends, with us and the Steelers. It's about time we changed it, and give people something new. Right now, it's kind of like we pride ourselves on being a bully, but they're the ones that keep knocking us out of the playoffs. So they're the bully. One day you just got to say '[screw] it' and punch the bully totally in his mouth. Then they won't bully you any more.''

See. They're not sugar-coating the truth in Baltimore these days. The Ravens have some work to do this season, and once again, it figures to both start and end with the task of getting past Pittsburgh.

Out of Left Field

By Dan Epstein
http://www.bighairplasticgrass.com/
August 10, 2011


While doing the research for Big Hair & Plastic Grass, I combed through hundreds of books and periodicals from the era, but one book somehow eluded me — Bob Adelman and Susan Hall's Out Of Left Field: Willie Stargell and the Pittsburgh Pirates. Long out of print, I recently found a used hardcover copy of the 1976 first edition via Amazon; and while there isn't much in there that would have appreciably changed the content of my book, it is a really fascinating read, and one I highly recommend to fans of the era, if you can find it.

Adelman and Hall had the sort of access to Stargell and the Pirates that you would never imagine today, especially considering that they were working on an "unauthorized" book. They followed the team for the entire '73 season, a tumultuous and frustrating campaign that saw the Bucs struggling to adjust to the sudden loss of their leader, Roberto Clemente, and to the equally sudden meltdown of former ace Steve Blass. Manager Bill Virdon was eventually fired with a month left to go in the season, but all new/old manager Danny Murtaugh could coax out of the team was a .500 September and a disappointing third-place finish behind the Mets and the Cardinals.

Out of Left Field paints a surprisingly intimate portrait of this lost season, with many of the players (Stargell, Richie Zisk, Manny Sanguillen, Richie Hebner, Al Oliver, Dock Ellis) offering surprisingly frank assessments of their lives and their team that go well beyond the usual clichés and platitudes. While Adelman and Hall offer little in the way of historical context, and many of their photos are frustratingly un-captioned — and if my lack of SABR-style number-crunching in BH&PG pissed you off, you're really gonna hate this book — they do a great job of getting out of the way and let the players tell their story.

The book includes groupie tales and other snapshots of life on the road, as well as an ongoing discussion of racism, both in the game and within the context of the team. Most interesting to me is the assertion from several players that racism played a role in the team's attempted move of Sanguillen — a highly respected catcher — to right field in the wake of Clemente's death. The black and Latin players interviewed, for the most part, seem to think that the move was motivated by the front office's desire to add more white players to the lineup: therefore, instead of putting the speedy Gene Clines in right field, Pirates management put Sangy out there and brought (the white) Milt May in to catch, because white Pittsburgh fans aren't down with a mostly-minority lineup. Management, of course, denies that this is remotely the case... but eventually, Sangy's ineptitude in right (and his potent bat) will help him reclaim his rightful position behind the plate. Even so, Clines will lose the right field position to a young Polish slugger named Richie Zisk...

Of course, Bob Adelman's photos tell a story all their own. The book contains over a hundred beautiful black and white shots of the players on and off the field, and I've scanned a few of my favorites:


Here's pitcher Nelson Briles, who led the team's starters that year with 14 victories and a 2.85 ERA — and who talks in the book about pursuing a full-time entertainment career once his playing days are over — working on a song in the clubhouse.


Here's Al Oliver and his wife, lookin' fly and preparing for a night on the town.


Here's Dock Ellis, lookin' cool as he heckles an umpire from the dugout.


Here's Pops himself, gettin' down with some funky friends during a party at his house.


And my personal favorite: A fantastic Dock-in-curlers shot that I'd never seen before...

Somewhat controversial in its day — "Passages about some team-mates might make Ball Four read like a nursery rhyme," commented the New York Times at the time — Out of Left Field isn't so shocking now, but it is a beautifully-observed time capsule from a complex era. It would be lovely to see it come back into print again.

Order Big Hair & Plastic Grass!

Rabu, 10 Agustus 2011

Another Look: Lanny Frattare

By Bob Barrickman
Beaver County Times
http://www.timesonline.com/sports/
August 9, 2011

Pirates play-by-play man Lanny Frattare (right) shares the booth in 2003 with color commentator and former Pirates pitcher Steve Blass.(Tribune-Review file)

Three years after stepping aside as the voice of the Pittsburgh Pirates, Lanny Frattare is ready to begin his second year calling high school sports for the MSA Sports Network.

"I just love broadcasting high school sports," Frattare, 63, said.

Frattare recalled a conversation he had two years ago with Don Rebel, the operations manager for MSA Sports, an internet outlet that primarily broadcasts sports in the WPIAL.

"Don asked me if I'd be interested in working for MSA. I said, yes," Frattare said. "He asked me the same question months later because I wasn't sure if he thought I was serious. I told Don I really was and I started doing games last year. When I broadcasted a (WPIAL football) playoff game last November, it was the first playoff game of any kind that I did since Sid Bream touched home plate."

That was in 1992 when Frattare saw Bream score the winning run for the Atlanta Braves against the Pirates in Game 7 of the NLCS. Shortly after Frattare left the Pirates booth, he became the assistant professor of communications at Waynesburg University. He teaches four courses in sports announcing and public speaking and also serves as faculty advisor for the campus radio station.

A native of Rochester, N.Y., Frattare broadcasted games for the Pirates AAA affiliate in Charleston, W. Va., in the early 1970's. When the legendary Bob Prince and broadcast partner Nellie King were let go after the 1975 season, Frattare and Milo Hamilton (pictured below) were hired to replace them calling Pirates broadcasts.

The Bucs won the World Series in 1979 but since the Pirates didn't control the local broadcast rights at the time, Frattare and Hamilton were shut out of calling the Series that year. Hamilton left after '79 and a couple years later, Frattare, having called the basketball game in 1985 on ESPN when Indiana coach Bobby Knight threw a chair across the court, assumed the lead role on Pirate broadcasts.

Frattare announced more than 5,000 Pirate games in 33 years, both being highest in the history of team broadcasters. There were two games in 1990 that stood out above all for Frattare.

"When Doug Drabek came within one out of a perfect game against the Phillies was probably the best call of a game I ever did," he said. "The other game was when the Pirates clinched the NL East title in St. Louis. I was so happy for (manager) Jim Leyland."

With the local broadcast rights changed, Frattare came within an out of calling his first World Series. But, the Bucs couldn't hold a 2-0 lead in the bottom of the ninth inning in Game 7 as Bream's run gave Atlanta a 3-2 victory.

"I wasn't so disappointed for myself as I was for Jim Leyland," said Frattare, twice divorced and now living in Collier Township. He has a son, David, 37 and a daughter, Megan, 29. Frattare's catch phrase was "No doubt about it" following a Pirate win. Frattare didn't get to say that phrase too often in his final 16 years.

"I should have left the booth three years before I did," he said. "I lost my zeal and enthusiasm and I wasn't doing a good job. I would never use the play of the team as a cop out."

Frattare said it was solely his decision to leave the booth after discussions with Pirate president Frank Coonelly. He hasn't been to a Pirate game since he left the booth.

"I don't watch or listen," he said. "I want the ball club to do well, but my father once told me that you have to know when it's time to move on. I want to care about something else."


Related:

Lanny Frattare's voice has become synonymous with Pirates baseball -
http://www.pittsburghlive.com/x/pittsburghtrib/focus/s_523760.html

The Education of Lanny Frattare -
http://www.pghsports.com/PSR/node/284

Rookie Heyward finding his way with Steelers

By WILL GRAVES, AP Sports Writer
http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/
August 8, 2011

Pittsburgh Steelers first round draft choice Cameron Heyward(notes), a defensive lineman from Ohio State, stretches during NFL football training camp Saturday, July 30, 2011, in Latrobe, Pa. (AP)

LATROBE, Pa. (AP)—Ziggy Hood(notes) heard the name, knew the pedigree and wondered exactly what the Pittsburgh Steelers were getting into when they chose defensive lineman Cameron Heyward(notes) with the 31st pick in the NFL draft.

A first-round pick from Ohio State whose father Craig is a Steel City legend following his career at Pitt? That could lead to a combustible mix of ego and privilege, right?

“It’s the recipe for it,” Hood said.

Just not with Heyward.

The rookie doesn’t really do ego. He doesn’t do privilege either. Instead, you’ll find him doing the things that rookies—even first-round picks—are supposed to do during a first training camp. If he’s not carrying the pads of a veteran teammate off the field following practice then he’s picking up the tab for the defensive line’s late-night snacks.

“He’s a rookie, and he acts like a rookie,” said defensive tackle Casey Hampton(notes). “That’s a major thing. You kind of probably wouldn’t think that from his background but obviously his father and his mama did a great job of keeping him grounded.”

Heyward didn’t really have a choice. His father, Craig, mother Charlotte and older brothers Craig Jr. and Corey made sure Heyward knew his place.

It proved to be good preparation for life in the NFL. While confident in his abilities, Heyward doesn’t carry himself with a sense of entitlement. Good thing, because that wouldn’t go over well on a line littered with Pro Bowlers in a city where work ethic is the only currency that matters.

“He came in here, has put his hand in the dirt and was ready to work,”said defensive end Brett Keisel(notes).

Playing in defensive coordinator Dick LeBeau’s intricate 3-4 defense is tough for a newcomer. Hood struggled with it. So did Keisel, Chris Hoke(notes) andAaron Smith(notes).

Yet Heyward has hung in there. Hood believes the 6-foot-5, 288-pound Heyward is farther along than Hood was as a rookie two years ago despite not having the luxury of going through mini-camp and Organized Team Activities due to the NFL lockout.

Heyward swears there’s no secret to his relatively quick adaptation. He stayed in shape waiting for the lockout to end and has immersed himself in the weight and video rooms trying to get up to speed.

“He’s not believing his own hype, that’s the main thing,” Hood said.“He’s a first rounder. He knows it. Everybody knows it but he’s not into that. He’s a young guy coming here trying to learn. He’s hanging around us older guys, we’re trying to show him correct ways on how to do things.”

It helps to be as athletic as Heyward. Where his father—who starred at Pitt in the 1980s before carving out an 11-year NFL career playing for five teams—was short (5-11) and thick (260 pounds), Heyward is nimble and light on his feet for his size.

While he’s hardly small, Heyward just laughs when asked if it’s as big as his father’s, who was dubbed “Ironhead” because of his head’s massive size and his penchant for lowering it into a defender’s chest.

Still, his teammates have been impressed with what’s going on between Heyward’s ears. His intelligence is one of the reasons the Steelers grabbed him at the end of the first round as one of the building blocks for the future.

“He’s got all the skills,” Hoke said. “He’s big, he’s tall. He’s got those long arms like you need in a 3-4 defensive end. He has talent. It’s just a matter of getting comfortable with the schemes.”

Heyward isn’t quite there yet. That’s fine by him. While eager to contribute he has no visions of playing on the first-team this year, not while playing behind the likes of Keisel and Smith, who have a combined 19 years and two Pro Bowls between them.

“I’m not going to step on anybody’s toes,” Heyward said. “I’ve got a lot to learn. I’m a young guy and I don’t have any room to talk.”

But plenty of room to listen. Most days you can find Heyward heading to the locker room nodding quietly as his older teammates break down what just happened in practice.

Though he’s reluctant to talk about the future, he’s well aware of what he and Hood represent. On a defense littered with 30-somethings, Heyward and Hood represent the next generation.

Hoke called the duo the gatekeepers to a legacy that stretches back to the Steel Curtain defense of the 1970s. Hoke saw the two youngsters chatting intently during a meeting the other day and told them what lay ahead.

“I said `You two are going to be the Brett Keisel and the Aaron Smith’s here in about five, six years,”’ Hoke said. “Ten years from now they’ll still be here and they’ll be the old vets teaching the young guys coming in.”

Heyward knows it. So does Hood.

“When it’s time for (the veterans) to sit back and enjoy their families, me and Cam got to step in and be able to play hard and be able to do what they did as if they haven’t left,” Hood said.

Just not yet. Heyward understands his job is to soak up as much knowledge as he can and be ready when his time comes.

“My expectations is (we’re) the best defensive line (in the NFL),” he said. “I just get to be a complimentary player. It’s an honor to play with those guys.”