GaryMrMets
06-04-2004, 02:07 AM
http://www.philly.com/mld/dailynews/sports/8824796.htm
Posted on Thu, Jun. 03, 2004
Paul Hagen | THE CASE FOR BASEBALL
SURE, IF Smarty Jones wins the Belmont Stakes
on Saturday and completes the last leg of horse racing's Triple Crown, it will be a stupendous achievement. Civic pride will soar, comparisons to the greatest equines in history will be made and accolades will flow like Niagara Falls. And it will all be well deserved.
To pretend that this is remotely close to being as difficult as a player leading his league in home runs, batting average and runs batted in - baseball's Triple Crown - is just plain silly, though.
The debate, as they say in the sport of kings, is a walkover.
Think about it. To claim a spot in his sport's pantheon, Smarty Jones has to be better than a couple of dozen other horses for a total of just more than 6 minutes on 3 well-spaced days.
To win baseball's Triple Crown, a hitter must be at the top of his game for 6 grinding months, performing nearly every day, competing against hundreds of the best in his profession.
I mean, yeah, it's been a long time since a horse swept the three crown jewel races. Every year, though, the Kentucky Derby is no sooner finished than people start speculating on the winner's chances of taking the trifecta. Every few years that horse also wins the Preakness and then the discussion begins in earnest.
How often do we even get to think about a ballplayer having an opportunity to finish first in all three categories?
And there are good reasons for that.
For one thing, bashing home runs and hitting for a high average tend to be two contradictory skills. One is for musclemen who hold the bat at the end and swing for the fences. Visualize Mark McGwire. One is for little guys with great bat control.
Visualize Tony Gwynn.
Even the great Willie Mays has talked about how, when manager Leo Durocher asked him to hit for a higher average to help the team, his home-run production tumbled. And how both knew it was going to happen.
If power vs. batting average is a trade-off for one of the greatest players ever, there's a pretty good chance trying to do both would pose a problem for just about anybody.
After Barry Bonds and Albert Pujols, it's hard to think of players who could even contemplate going for the Triple Crown. And if other teams pitch around them enough, even they probably don't have much of a chance.
Which brings up another point. Granted, there's strategy in running a horse race. When to lay back. When to go to the whip. When to move to the rail. In the end, though, it's all pretty much the same thing: Running faster than the other horses over a measured distance. The horse, like a golfer, is in many ways competing against himself.
If he's the best horse and he simply runs to his potential, the likelihood is that he'll win.
The hitter is competing against the starting pitcher, who has been prepped by a thick scouting report. And fresh arms to come in later in the game. And, quite possibly, a nasty closer who throws 95 mph fastballs that paint the corners at the knees. And he faces defensive alignments that have been designed especially for him.
Just for fun, though, let's suppose that a hitter is talented enough and lucky enough to have a shot at the Triple Crown going into the final couple of weeks of the season. Newspapers across the country would run daily updates on his chances. He would be a focal point on "SportsCenter." Reporters would want to talk to him before and after each game, seeking fresh insights and tidbits.
And he would have to do it facing the possibility of traveling to a new city every few days, maybe switching time zones, playing day games after night games. And he would be trying to capture an elusive prize at the point of the season when all players are physically and mentally fried.
That creates a lot of pressure, even for the most easygoing
professional.
Smarty, on the other hoof, is blissfully unaware of the expectations - and millions of dollars in wagers - that will be riding on him. He has been pampered and coddled. There will be a lot of stress on the owner, the trainer, the jockey. As far as the horse is concerned, though, it's just another gallop in the park.
The only conceivable advantage that a baseball player has is that he doesn't have to be perfect every day. He can take a few 0-fers and still have a shot.
To win the Triple Crown, a horse has almost no margin for error. If he gets a bad break out of the gate, has a minor injury or gets boxed in, the chance at immortality can evaporate before he reaches the clubhouse turn.
Again, though, the horse doesn't have to sustain that level of excellence for an extended time. He just has to get the job done in three concentrated bursts after having had at least
2 weeks to prepare for those few scintillating moments.
Horse racing is a sprint. A baseball season is a marathon.
And look at it this way: By Saturday evening, we may see another Triple Crown winner in horse racing.
Would anybody want to put down a $2 wager that we'll ever see another in baseball?
Posted on Thu, Jun. 03, 2004
Paul Hagen | THE CASE FOR BASEBALL
SURE, IF Smarty Jones wins the Belmont Stakes
on Saturday and completes the last leg of horse racing's Triple Crown, it will be a stupendous achievement. Civic pride will soar, comparisons to the greatest equines in history will be made and accolades will flow like Niagara Falls. And it will all be well deserved.
To pretend that this is remotely close to being as difficult as a player leading his league in home runs, batting average and runs batted in - baseball's Triple Crown - is just plain silly, though.
The debate, as they say in the sport of kings, is a walkover.
Think about it. To claim a spot in his sport's pantheon, Smarty Jones has to be better than a couple of dozen other horses for a total of just more than 6 minutes on 3 well-spaced days.
To win baseball's Triple Crown, a hitter must be at the top of his game for 6 grinding months, performing nearly every day, competing against hundreds of the best in his profession.
I mean, yeah, it's been a long time since a horse swept the three crown jewel races. Every year, though, the Kentucky Derby is no sooner finished than people start speculating on the winner's chances of taking the trifecta. Every few years that horse also wins the Preakness and then the discussion begins in earnest.
How often do we even get to think about a ballplayer having an opportunity to finish first in all three categories?
And there are good reasons for that.
For one thing, bashing home runs and hitting for a high average tend to be two contradictory skills. One is for musclemen who hold the bat at the end and swing for the fences. Visualize Mark McGwire. One is for little guys with great bat control.
Visualize Tony Gwynn.
Even the great Willie Mays has talked about how, when manager Leo Durocher asked him to hit for a higher average to help the team, his home-run production tumbled. And how both knew it was going to happen.
If power vs. batting average is a trade-off for one of the greatest players ever, there's a pretty good chance trying to do both would pose a problem for just about anybody.
After Barry Bonds and Albert Pujols, it's hard to think of players who could even contemplate going for the Triple Crown. And if other teams pitch around them enough, even they probably don't have much of a chance.
Which brings up another point. Granted, there's strategy in running a horse race. When to lay back. When to go to the whip. When to move to the rail. In the end, though, it's all pretty much the same thing: Running faster than the other horses over a measured distance. The horse, like a golfer, is in many ways competing against himself.
If he's the best horse and he simply runs to his potential, the likelihood is that he'll win.
The hitter is competing against the starting pitcher, who has been prepped by a thick scouting report. And fresh arms to come in later in the game. And, quite possibly, a nasty closer who throws 95 mph fastballs that paint the corners at the knees. And he faces defensive alignments that have been designed especially for him.
Just for fun, though, let's suppose that a hitter is talented enough and lucky enough to have a shot at the Triple Crown going into the final couple of weeks of the season. Newspapers across the country would run daily updates on his chances. He would be a focal point on "SportsCenter." Reporters would want to talk to him before and after each game, seeking fresh insights and tidbits.
And he would have to do it facing the possibility of traveling to a new city every few days, maybe switching time zones, playing day games after night games. And he would be trying to capture an elusive prize at the point of the season when all players are physically and mentally fried.
That creates a lot of pressure, even for the most easygoing
professional.
Smarty, on the other hoof, is blissfully unaware of the expectations - and millions of dollars in wagers - that will be riding on him. He has been pampered and coddled. There will be a lot of stress on the owner, the trainer, the jockey. As far as the horse is concerned, though, it's just another gallop in the park.
The only conceivable advantage that a baseball player has is that he doesn't have to be perfect every day. He can take a few 0-fers and still have a shot.
To win the Triple Crown, a horse has almost no margin for error. If he gets a bad break out of the gate, has a minor injury or gets boxed in, the chance at immortality can evaporate before he reaches the clubhouse turn.
Again, though, the horse doesn't have to sustain that level of excellence for an extended time. He just has to get the job done in three concentrated bursts after having had at least
2 weeks to prepare for those few scintillating moments.
Horse racing is a sprint. A baseball season is a marathon.
And look at it this way: By Saturday evening, we may see another Triple Crown winner in horse racing.
Would anybody want to put down a $2 wager that we'll ever see another in baseball?