On a recent baseball legend

The visiting Atlanta Braves are in town to play the San Francisco Giants, and they’ve brought along one of the few players who’s been playing—and playing well—since I was just a toddler.

Larry “Chipper” Jones is sure to be a first ballot hall of famer. He’s just 300 hits shy of 3,000, and now leads the RBI list for a third basemen.

I absolutely loved and hated watching Chipper as a younger kid. He was exciting, young, popular, and free of controversy. Just like Griffey, Jones was one of the good kids in baseball. Likable, a good teammate, always there for the fans, consistently a great player, and not in any way tied to the steroid era. Hate, because the Braves played in the West division against my giants until ’94.

The Giants paid a short tribute to Jones before the start of their four game series this weekend, which likely could be Jones’ last trip to AT&T park as a ball player. He’s got to be taking it all in, in this, his last season. Every park’s got to feel like a victory lap, topping a career like his. He gets one more chance to interact with these fans—who maybe used to despise him, considering how good the Braves were (division winners for 14 years in a row!).

But now these fans cheer his name. He’s not there yet, but “legend” is going to be an easy title to bestow in five years when the Baseball Writers of America vote him in. Especially with that nickname, “Chipper.” He even sounds like a baseball player.

During that pre-game tribute, Jones sat stone-faced in the dugout. Baseball players don’t smile before games, unless they’re on the DL or a starting pitcher with the night off. Jones is no different. He stood and watched the short (and probably familiar) footage of him recording his record-breaking RBI. And he jogged up the dugout steps to say hello to the fans honoring him.

And at the very end of that, the stony face broke and Chipper gave a little smile. Maybe it was for the fans, but I think not. He’s recognized this as his victory lap, and he’s finally taking it all in—one last time.

I’ve changed my mind. If the Giants don’t make it to the World Series this year, I hope it’s the Braves with the pennant. It’s the only fitting end for one of baseball’s all-time greats.

SF Giants uniforms, part 2: Alternate road jerseys!

Image courtesy of jerseygear.com

As long as I can remember (and my memory of specific Giants’ jerseys isn’t all that great), the San Francisco Giants have worn a simple gray road jersey, with just ‘San Francisco’ spread across the front in condensed, graphic lettering. Which is great. It’s a nice, classic, clean look, and something that’s worked for them for a number of years. But check it out:

Image courtesy of shop.mlb.com/

(How cool does that look? Okay, sort of cool.)

But I always welcome new things, and new ideas, and I have to say, I’m pretty excited about what the Giants are doing this season with their road jerseys. Not only are they putting a retro spin on their main road jerseys, by adding piping down the middle, they’re also introducing an alternate jersey that they’ve worn in the past, most notably in the 1980 season:

Image courtesy of shop.mlb.com/

The alternate jersey utilizes a simple ‘SF’ monogram over the left breast, the same piping seen in the new regular road jersey, and similar striping around the sleeves. It also, curiously enough, loses the collar striping that we’ve seen over the years, and I think that’s a good thing. It’s a lot cleaner this way and not as distracting.

One thing I think is a little distracting, however, is the vertical piping. It’s really a nice look on the new alternate jerseys, but on the original road unis? Kind of an odd look, if you ask me. Runs into the type too much.

What do you all think?

SF Giants’ uniforms, part 1: GIA NTS

My dad and my girlfriend are as big of San Francisco Giants fans as I am. Maybe even bigger fans. But if there’s one problem they have with the Giants, it’s with their uniforms. Let me explain.

My dad, an illustrator, and my girlfriend, an up-and-coming hotshot designer, pay very close attention to typography (as do I). This happens everywhere. Television. The mall. Packages. Advertisements. Baseball games. So when it comes to watching our beloved Giants, my dad and my girlfriend notice one big thing:

Freddy Sanchez - San Francisco Giants (Image: Zuma Press)

‘GIA  NTS’

Oh, the kerning. The kerning! While I acknowledge that this kerning issue exists, I think it’s irrelevant. I know what you’re thinking. “Some weird typography thing, and this designer guy says it’s irreleveant? Some kind of designer. Sheesh.” I’ll explain, after some back story.

During the baseball season, I must hear something about the uniform gap every week. “It looks like a second grader sewed these numbers on,” my dad will say. “Why don’t they go back to the old uniforms? They didn’t used to look like that.”

He’s right, of course. The Giants’ home uniforms used to employ the block/chiseled serif front without the gap.

Chris Graythen/Getty Images (from bleacherreport.com)

(I want to add that it’s actually pretty odd the Giants moved away from this. Why?)

Take a look at this older production shot of former shortstop Rich Aurilia, circa ‘when he had graying facial hair’. The ‘A’ and the ‘N’ physically touch! Actually, physically touch! The ‘A’ splits the gap, and is (presumably) printed on both sides of the uniform, creating a gapless look. It looks good. And tight. Except …

This is baseball. Baseball isn’t necessarily about the looks. Baseball teams don’t need flashy uniforms, or Nike’s jersey ingenuity. Baseball teams need traditional uniforms. Classic looks. That’s why the league has moved away from the weird powder blue looks made popular (infamous?) by the Phillies. Away from the pullovers, and away from the myriad ‘alternate’ looks. Back to classic.

How’s this relate to the Giants’ kerning problems? I don’t think the kerning looks great, but I also think it would be strange to have the edge of the ‘A’ printed again, like on Aurilia’s jersey. But that’s my point: It doesn’t matter!

It doesn’t matter how the kerning is on the uniform. That’s the last thing I’m watching when I’m watching a game. Baseball is a game about getting dirty, playing with your heart, and hustling. They’re still my team, good kerning or bad.

So, ‘GIANTS’ or ‘GIA  NTS’? I’ll take ’em either way.

There’s New Grass on the Field

That’s a wrap! With Tom Brady’s failed hail mary last night, the football season is over, and America’s real pastime can get started.

You may argue with me there. You may say that those pigskin hurtlers in helmets and pads are the true representation of America through sports. You may tell me that football, in all it’s red, white and blue wrapping paper, patriotic music, and games promoted like they’re epic battles between two great armies actually has an edge over America’s first successful professional sport. And that’s okay. You can argue that way. But you’d be wrong.

Baseball is our national pastime because it’s so ingrained in our culture. It’s such a part of the country and its people. Baseball inspires prose like we see above. Walt Whitman spoke of the sport. Hell, even Lewis and Clark taught an early version of the game to Indians, on land that had just been purchased for the US by Thomas freakin’ Jefferson. (No word on whether that’s his real middle name or not). How much more American can you get than Jefferson and Lewis & Clark?

The President is often invited to throw the first pitch out at many a ball game across the country. Does the NFL invite the commander-in-chief over to kick the ball downfield at the start of a contest? After the “Star-Spangled Banner” and “America the Beautiful” comes America’s third-most American song: “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” The base ballgame.

Baseball is America’s sport because it grew up with the country. When times are tough, baseball is there to inspire confidence again. When kids need a hero, they look to Babe Ruth, or Willie Mays, or Ted Williams, or Ken Griffey, Jr. After the September 11th attacks, baseball took center stage. While the Diamondbacks ruined what would have been a truly American triumph for the Yankees (a sentence I will never again utter), the sentiment stands.

Tradition Begins Anew

Four long months of nothing but player negotiations and trades are nearly over. Soon, we’ll have real baseball to talk about. You can almost hear the pop of the baseball hitting the padded leather of a mitt, breaking the silence that has lasted since Cardinal Allen Craig caught the last out of the World Series way back in October.

Soon, pitchers and catchers will report to spring training (mere days!). Soon, we’ll have the smell of freshly cut grass, still wet from the morning dew. Soon, the sound of mitts slapping, bats popping, and crowds cheering will fill the air. Soon, the spring sun will warm the players’ faces and the fans’ hearts, as another season of our great sport starts up again. Spring training is upon us.

(For the first time, I’m lucky enough to head down to Scottsdale and watch the Giants play this March! It’s something I’ve always dreamed of attending, and I’m lucky enough that my girlfriend and her family have invited me along). 

So what’s that mean? For a Giants fan like myself, it means Tim Lincecum and Buster Posey (and the rest of the pitching and catching staffs) will be reporting to Arizona in just 12 days. It feels like it’s been a long winter. I’m rabid. I can’t get enough baseball news. I read the entire report on Josh Hamilton’s relapse with alcohol because he’s a baseball player.

I can’t wait to hear the classic voice of Jon Miller and young’n Dave Flemming, San Francisco’s radio guys, as well as the classic Kruk and Kuip duo on the radio. Even better, I can’t wait to be in Arizona, watching my team play. It’s going to be renewing, refreshing, and exciting. Even better than that, I can’t wait to sit my butt down at AT&T park and watch them compete.

Nothing, however, compares to the feeling of playing the game yourself. I signed up for a softball class this semester to get some action in. I miss, more than anything else, playing the game. Sliding on the cleats and the glove, pulling on a hat, and tossing a ball around. We start games on Wednesday!

America’s pastime is here. I’m ready to play, coach.