Sunday, March 31, 2013

Two Rolls, Three-Way Tie

Two grand slams have created a three-way tie in the East Division of my 1981 APBA baseball replay with only two games left to play for each team.

Two slams; two swings; it’s all knotted up.

I began this replay in December 2011, rolling three to five games a day. Now, at Game No. 2071 on Oct. 2, 1981, I’ve got the closest pennant race I’ve ever played.

For those of you new to the game, or to this blog, APBA is a statistical-based game that recreates baseball seasons. Baseball players for that particular season are given a card with numbers on it. Game players roll dice, match the rolls with the numbers on the cards and then compare them with play results. It generally takes 15-20 minutes to play a game.

I’ve played APBA for nearly 36 years. However, I only got into the baseball game 15 years ago. But since 1998, I’ve rolled at least one baseball game nearly every day (unless I was sick or on some news assignment). This season is the tightest pennant race I’ve seen.

New York, Baltimore and Detroit are all sitting atop the American League East with 95-65 records. Early on, it appeared the Yankees would run away with the division, but Detroit and Baltimore stormed back.

Today, I rolled two games before leaving town on assignment. Both featured game-turning grand slams.

In the first contest, Baltimore hosted New York. The Yanks took a 4-1 lead in the third, but Orioles’ third baseman Doug DeCinces hit his first grand slam of the season in the bottom of the third and the Birds ended up winning, 8-4.

In the next game, Milwaukee led 4-0 after two innings against Detroit, but Brewers’ pitcher Jim Slaton gave up a single to Lou Whitaker and then walked two in the third to load the bases. Steve Kemp then hit his slam. For APBA fans, Kemp’s home run was somewhat backwards. I rolled a “33” for Kemp’s double-column card. It resulted in a “0,” meaning I needed to roll the dice again for his hit. The dice tumbled around on the second toss, ending on the “66,” APBA’s  signature roll for home runs.

Dan Petry then shut down the Brewers and the Tigers ended up taking the game, 9-4.

Two simple dice rolls, well, three actually when factoring in Kemp’s second one. Two outcomes that really make this game interesting.

I’m hitting the road soon today, heading to Little Rock to cover a conference on school shootings. I’m sure while at this meeting I’ll relive my coverage of the 1998 Westside Middle School shooting where four children and a teacher were killed. It won’t be fun.

But I know when I return home, I’ll have more games to play and I’ll know that as the season draws to a close, each roll could really mean something big. Two of them already have.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

I Don't Hate The Red Sox Anymore

A funny thing happened while I replayed the 1981 ABPA baseball season. I found myself rooting for the Boston Red Sox, which goes against the very grain of my existence, I had thought.

I’ve always been a Yankees fan, since nearly birth. I know, I know. “Evil Empire” and all, but I come by the fandom with righteous reasons. 

First, my father instilled the Yankees in me when I was a youngster. He grew up in New Jersey just across the river from New York and would watch and root for DiMaggio, Berra, Mantle and Maris. With a teacher like that, how could I not favor the Yanks?

And, when I moved to Arkansas as a teenager from northern Minnesota, my following the Yankees set me apart from the rest of my classmates, many who tormented me because I was from the north. They called me “Yankee,” with the same vile invective that they reserved for racial slurs. Rather than be offended, I turned it into them calling me by one of my favorite teams.

Despite being a Bronx Bomber, I didn’t hate the Red Sox for years, though. In fact, I rooted for them in the 1975 World Series against Cincinnati. When I was really young, I sent off Corn Flakes box tops and got patches for five teams. I remember getting Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Kansas City, Detroit and ... Boston.

But then 2004 happened and I learned how to hate like a real fan. 

The Yanks took their 3-0 lead against Boston in the American League Championship series that year, but the Red Sox battled back and won the next four. They then won the World Series against Colorado.

Two years later, they swept the Cardinals which, because of my proximity to them, became the National League team I followed.

So, my dislike of the Sox came naturally.

But when I replayed 1977’s baseball season with the APBA game a few years ago, the Red Sox defeated Cincinnati in the World Series and I found myself not broken hearted at that. Now, as my 1981 season comes to an end, Boston is out of the pennant race, but I find myself rooting for them to fare well.

How can you not really like the 1981 Red Sox with players such as Fred Lynn, Carl Yastrzemski, Dennis Eckersley, Tony Perez and Rich Gedman. 

When you do a replay, rolling dice for each game scheduled for that particular season, teams take on personalities, much like they do in real life. The APBA game is statically based. You roll dice, match up results with numbers on player’s cards, compare those numbers to game results and, voila, the game is played. 

You find yourself rooting for teams and players based on how they fare during the season. Quirks come out, and the Red Sox had some fun quirks to watch as I replayed 1981. Dave Stapleton hit home runs in the APBA game above his real totals for the season. In 1981, Stapleton hit 10 home runs for the real Red Sox. In my game, he has 22 homers. Pitcher Frank Tanana, despite receiving a “D” for his pitching grade in the game (grades factor in the determination of plays at times), won games and he struck out a lot of batters.

I don’t know how this will translate into the real season this year. Will my mild interest in the Red Sox carry over to the actual games? I doubt I’ll root for the Sox over the Yankees, but at least the APBA game helped absolve some of the hatred I had for that team.

Now, if the game can remove my dislike for the Cubs, it’ll really be doing something.


Sunday, March 17, 2013

The Sound of the South

It’s spring and with it comes the annual sound of baseballs popping in gloves, the cracks of the bats and the ballpark vendors hawking expensive beer and meat byproduct hot dogs.

But here in the south another sound vies for our attention as the trees begin budding and the temperatures climb. It’s the sound of the wailing tornado sirens. Not that I’m rooting for them, but we should hear their cries this spring in Arkansas. 

We had an off year last year with only a few twisters. Meteorologists blame it on the drought; the dry conditions kept storm systems from strengthening over the state and producing the tornadoes. We had only 17 reported in the Natural State in 2012.

This year, though, the drought has improved and forecasters expect at least 50 tornadoes. And with the increase in storms, it means I’ll be heading out more to the various towns that get hit by the winds. One of my duties at the newspaper where I work is to cover weather.

I’ve seen a lot of tornado damage in my years here. In 2008, I drove through a storm cell that produced the longest on-the-ground twister in the state’s history. When I punched through the system, my car was covered in splotched mud and straw.

Once I had the rubber stripping along my car door frame blown off during a storm.  After that, whenever I drove over 50 mph, the wind would blow across the gap and make a whistling noise.

I’ve driven over the remains of a house scattered across a road and dodged downed trees. In 2007, I had to drive through a bumpy cotton field to get to a town that was decimated by a twister because the roads were closed with debris.

And once I covered a tornado in a small eastern Arkansas town that killed two people. Officials set up an area for storm victims in a school gymnasium and posted a large sign “No Media.” While I was there, a second tornado formed and bore down on the school. Police rushed everyone into the gymnasium for shelter, creating a dilemma. As a reporter, do I heed the sign and stay outside, or do I take cover? I took cover.

In 1999, the sirens blared near our home and my wife and I scrambled into a closet under the staircase. She got important papers and photographs to preserve and took them with her; I grabbed my 1998 APBA baseball season set. Priorities, you know.

This year, as we prepare for the storm system here in the south, I’m ready. I have all my APBA seasons already stored in a walk-in closet that, if I were inclined to, I would hunker down during tornado warnings. 

I’ve said here before that in APBA, I never have rain outs. Every team plays its full slate of games in all the replays I’ve done. But, as the winds begin howling and the sirens go off, there may be a few games delayed while I seek shelter and then track down where the damage occurred so I can report on it.


Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Replay Update, Sept. 24, 1981

Ten days are left in the 1981 baseball season I’m replaying with APBA and the American League East continues to be knotted. I find that, although this is not real, I think about the games while away from the cards and dice as if they were.

It’s quite a race, and it makes me stay up late at night rolling games to see how this turns out.

I’ve reached Sept. 25, 1981. I’m replaying every game scheduled that season and am ignoring the baseball strike that wreaked havoc on the actual season and converted the national past time into a goofy, minor league-like farce with its split playoff system.

I wanted to correct that and wanted to see what happened if each team played its full 162 games. Like I said here before, there’s no player strikes, lockouts or rainouts in APBA.

For those of you unfamiliar with the game, APBA is an amazing stat-based game that uses cards and dice. For the more high-tech players, the game does come in a computer format, but I’ve shied away, both because I am a traditionalist and I’m a computer idiot. (We've just changed computer systems at the newspaper where I work. The adjustment has been a bit rough and one of our techs actually told me that my inability to understand the newfangled stuff gave them job security).

Each player’s season is represented on a card. Players roll dice to determine play outcomes, corresponding the roll with numbers on the cards. It generally takes about 15-20 minutes to play a game. A full season replay, in my case, has taken about 17 months.

It seems like a long time, but when you have a pennant race like the one ensuing in my replay, it’s worth it.

Here are the four teams in the American League East Division as of games ending on Sept. 24, 1981.

Baltimore 91-62
Detroit 90-63
New York 90-63
Milwaukee    87-66

The Orioles will play three at Yankee Stadium and Milwaukee heads to Detroit for a three-game series. 

The National League is wrapped up. Montreal currently has record of 106-46 and is an amazing team to play. They lead Philadelphia by 14 games. Los Angeles, with its four 21-game winners in Fernando Valenzuela, Burt Hooton, Jerry Reuss and Bob Welch, lead Houston by 10 games with 10 to go. The Dodgers will play the Astros in Houston for three games and more than likely will wrap up the West during that series.

Kansas City leads California by 4.5 games with nine games remaining in the Royals’ season.

So, it’s late, but I plan to play a few games before bedtime tonight, advancing this great season. I’ll head to work a bit bleary-eyed tomorrow, but it’ll be worth it. And if it appears I’m zoning out, I’m not catching a nap, but thinking of the games I’ve yet to play and how this will all play out.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

The End Is Near

I’ve been playing the games of the 1981 baseball replay game with more fervor lately, rolling up to six games a day. It’s because the end is near; I’m closing in on the conclusion of the season.

Those who roll the dice with the APBA game can attest that replaying a season game by game is a task that takes months or, in some cases, even years. Each game may take 15-20 minutes to play and that time must fit in with work, sleep and the other aspects of life. You may be married and have kids and friends and that takes time. You try and squeeze a few games in when it’s convenient; it’s tough to complete a season. Since I have no other life than work, and I hate sleeping, I can play more games daily than most.

I began the 1981 season in December 2011 and tonight I’ve reached Game No. 1,958. There are 158 games remaining to play and that is what drives me. I hope to finish the year by mid April and I figure that if I maintain my pace of six games a day  I can complete the season by April 1, when the actual baseball season opens.

There is the burnout factor replayers go through when doing a full season and I’ve hit it a few times. It’s hard to get motivated to play those meaningless games late in the season. Those San Diego-Atlanta clashes of the 1981 season don’t really make you want to grab the dice to see how the contest turns out.

But as the finish line nears and the marathon of replaying a season draws nigh, it’s enough to roll a few extra games each day. I’ve got a good pennant race ensuing in the American League East Division which is an additional draw.

So, with 158 games left, I set these higher daily goals to move along the game. When I’m finished with this season, I’ll immediately turn to doing 1942 and, because there were fewer teams in baseball then and they played 154 rather than 162 games, that season will go more quickly.

It’s not that I want to finish the season out of boredom or some felt tedium in playing game after game after game in 1981. In fact, there is a sadness in completing a season. When the games are done, the players’ cards are returned to their envelopes and the box holding those envelopes returns to the shelf where they probably will remain for the rest of my life. I have enough seasons left to play that I can never duplicate a year for as long as I live. The season will become a memory; the characteristics of that particular year will be shelved; the life that I experienced while playing the game will pass on.

But the next replay beckons and I’ll go through the same roller coaster routine of playing it out. The first few hundred games will fly by because of the newness of the season and players I’m dealing with. It’ll slow down in the midsummer of whatever year I’m playing, much like it does in real baseball. 

But as that season wraps up, I’m sure the games will pick up again and I’ll roll them with the maniacal glee I’m experiencing now.