DAILY DOSE: "In the Wink of A Young Girl's Eye"

PITCHERS AND CATCHERS: PLEASE REPORT TO BRADENTON, FLORIDA FOR THE START OF SPRING TRAINING!

The day after the worst day in February (the headstone reading “RIP NHL” on ESPN.com sums that feeling up nicely), we’ve come to the BEST day in February. The official start of baseball season! Since Fantasy Leagues are starting up already (which is borderline ridiculous. Who in their right mind would draft ANYONE with six weeks before Opening Day?), I thought I’d ask yinz if there’s interest out there to start one of those really simple fantasy leagues? We could do a non-draft one, like the free ESPN one. It runs more like buying stocks than fantasy baseball? Everyone’s invited. Perhaps I’ll link to it next week, if there’s enough interest.

So yes, it’s baseball time again. Well, almost. It’s more like, “It’s windsprint time again.” But I’ll take it. Just watching Pittsburgh Sports Tonight (it’s SportsCenter, without annoying cathphrases, and focusing entirely on PGH and PSU sports. And it’s awesome.) will be SO much fun. Seeing all the boys back in black and gold, Ollie, Bay (who needs a nickname), Tike, Jack, and of course, Rob, will help bring a little bit of spring into my life. That is, until I realize Rob changed his number to the super-lame #3. A number SO lame, my brother used to wear it.

Okay, so #3’s not THAT lame, but it’s not half as cool as his previously iron-nosed #59. He used to wear Jack Ham’s number, for Chrissakes! Baggy pants aside, he plays like a linebacker, too. Super-tough and hardnosed and ready to get dirty. #59 fit him perfectly. Now he’s wearing Babe Ruth and A-Rod’s number. Bullshit.

Which brings me to my point (finally). There are definitely baseball numbers that are better than others. I know baseball’s not necessarily the sport of choice for you Kingdomites, but I’ve got a feeling that y’all know what I’m getting at. So what are the great baseball numbers, I humbly ask you. In no particular order, cool numbers to wear are:

5: probably the best of the one-digit numbers. Since you basically call players by their number while on the diamond, just getting to call a guy “Five” sounds cool. I wore this for a year in Pony League, when we didn’t have a 13, and I was firmly entrenched in my Jeff Bagwell phase. It also has a personal connotation for me, because Steve Beyer and Jeff Fischer both wore this number, and they’re two of the three grittiest guys I ever played with.

9: Nine’s a pretty good number, and probably the only other acceptable 1-digit. I’m willing to bend on 7, but 1, 2, and 8 should be avoided at all times. Also, I don’t think that anyone in the history of the game has actually worn the number 4.

11: Eleven’s solid, due to symmetrical reasons. But I think it’s only good for pitchers. And maybe catchers, because it would work well with the chest guard straps. Also, if you wear 11, you can be called “Stix.” Which is as solid of a nickname as it gets.

13: Okay, you KNEW it had to be on here, right? Personally I think it’s the best number in the universe. My buddy Gavin was also a thirteen, and that totally makes sense to me. If you wear a 13, you’re a rare breed. That’s why it’s sort of an affront that A-Rod wears it now. Sure he’s good and all, but he’s wearing 13 because he couldn’t wear 3 (and for the record, I think that the Mack of All Trades is wearing 3 because he can’t wear 13) but he’s wearing it out of reverence for Dan Marino. The problem is, you don’t choose 13. 13 chooses you. There’s a certain mindset behind being a one-three that I could tell you about, but a) you’re probably not interested in, b) I don’t want to digress anymore. Thirteen’s a great number though. Looks good on the uni, and sounds good, too. “Now batting, number thirteen….” It’s one of those numbers that makes a statement, and that statement is “I’m a thirteen.”

17: Good pitcher’s number. Don’t know why, it just is. “One-Seven” or “One-Sev” sounds good from the Outfield. Also, I wore 17 when we won the 1992 Yough Little League Championship. So that might have something to do with it.

21: One of my favorite things about baseball is the fact that every Dominican wears 21 in memory of Roberto Clemente. It’s AMAZING to me how revered he is. A kid I used to play ball with at D-Son, Dario, was from the DR, and he would’ve killed someone to get 21 off of them. Kind of like Robert DeNiro in “the Fan.”

Sluggers' Numbers: It’s an undeniable fact: If you wear 23, 24, 25, 26, 29, or 33, 35, you’re a home run hitter. Or at least you’d better be. I honestly believe these numbers have special powers. I wore 24 and 25 back in consecutive years when I was 10 and 11, and hit two inside-the park homeruns with them. Added to that, I think I hit a double about every other at-bat, and had an OBP somewhere around .800 for the two-year span. You may think that means I peaked at 11. I know it was the numbers.

34: Power pitchers. Big tall strong guys that will knock you over wear 34. There’s a reason Shaq picked this number when he was in LA. It just kind of looks powerful.

You rarely come up with numbers much higher than that, that actually work. And 59 was one of them. I truly believe Rob’s identity as a player will change now, and he’s not going to be the same. These are the things I think about at night. The lesson is, I need a girlfriend.

Post-up and let me know what I forgot, or share some opinions on numbers. Marc, I know you adore 22, and it works for hockey, where consecutive double-digits have magical powers (66, 99, 77), but I don’t see it with baseball. Sorry to let you down. It’d be fun to know what numbers y’all wore in Little League/softball/whatever. I can tell you if they were good or bad, or you were good or bad, based on the number.

For the record, I remember every number I’ve ever worn:

1985: 9
1986: 36
1988: 2
1989: 13
1990: 24
1991: 25
1992: 17
1993: 13
1994: 5, 31 (All-Star (notice it’s 13 backwards))
1995: 36 (HS), 13 (Pony), 1
1996: 24 (HS), 13 (Colt) 13 (All-Star)
1997: 13 (HS), 13 (Colt) 13 (All-Star)
1998: 13 (HS), 13 (Legion)
1999: 17 (Dickinson), 13 (Legion)
2000: 13
2001: 13
2002: 13
2004: 13

And that, friends, is the most worthless information I’ve ever posted. Really, I was just showing off. I know you’re impressed, it’s okay. For the record, my best seasons were probably ’89, ’90, ’92, ’94 —’97 (summer league), ’97 HS, ’02 Dickinson. My worst were hands down ’04 (although that barely counts, being that we never had a single practice) and ’98 High School. Ugh. This sidebar is brought to you by today’s Song of the Day, the Official Theme Song of J-Broms, “Glory Days,” by Bruce Springsteen.

Also, a quick list of BAD numbers:

1: I’ve had very good friends on teams that wore 1. And two of them were flat out #1-type personalities. Basically, the kind of person who gives himself number one, is probably the kind of person you want on your team—so long as he’s playing CF or SS. It’s only good in such limited use, that I can’t give it the general nod. I’ve played with plenty of guys that wore 1, but couldn’t back it up, but thought they could. This is very bad for a team dynamic.

2: Two is strictly reserved for backup infielders and plucky shortstops. Jack Wilson did some pretty special things with it last year, but wearing number 2 basically says “I don’t think I’m number 1. You should throw fastballs right by me, because I’ll meekly stand there.” Watch Jack go from 200 hits to 160 this year.

8: I’ve never known a single good player who wore 8. Who picks eight?

29: the most powerless number on the roster. Giving someone number 29 is a kiss of death. I once paid a kid 20 dollars to switch me numbers, not so much because I wanted his 13, but because I knew what came of those who wore 29. The lesson: I hit in the .300s that year, he hit somewhere around his IQ. And he wasn’t very smart.

69: To paraphrase Gavin, “If you wear 69, and you’re not a lineman, it just proves that you’re an asshole.” Bronson Arroyo wore 69 as a Pirate. Now he has a World Series ring. Life is so unfair.

I think that’ll do. Chime in and let me know how you feel about numerology.

Also, stay tuned to this space. As spring training progresses, I’m going to start doing my baseball Pre-Season special spectacular. I’m decidedly really good at predicting baseball. For starters, “The Mets won’t be THAT good this year.” Let’s call them “The 2004 Philadelphia Phillies.” You can’t just get by with ONLY offense in the NL. Though Pedro should be effective in Shea, the Mets are counting on KRISSY BENSON to be their number 2. In New York? The guy couldn’t take the pressure in Pittsburgh! He should’ve gone home to Atlanta, but his slut-wife wants the spotlight. Trust me, the Krissy Benson New York era will not end well.

And here’s your Link of the Day. Guy on Page 2 did a little Jose Canseco fact-checking, which sums up REALLY well why this story should just go away, and we should just start worrying about important things like, “Who will give up more first-inning runs in April this year: Ryan BLOWgelsong or Josh Fogg?” I mean, Canseco gets his entire 2000 World Series at bat WRONG. I still remember how at bats went when I was 14! This is just proof that he’s an asshole. He probably used to wear 69.

Until next time, I remain,

-thirteen-