2015: Year of the Heart

In less than 18 hours, I'll be in St. Louis at the train station across from the Scottrade Center picking up my Illinois girl and bringing her back here for a week. I've been doing the countdown for seeing her for the past few days, constantly checking the clock and acting like an over-anxious kid before Christmas.

The countdown shifted suddenly today when we learned the train would not make it all the way into Arkansas because of flooding on the Mississippi River. It would only go as far as St. Louis. Oddly, and ironically as it were, when I discovered this tidbit of information, I was writing a story for the newspaper where I work about flooding and how the swollen Mississippi River was delaying crests along the Arkansas River.

Instead of picking her up in a town about 30 miles from here at 3:30 a.m. (depending upon Amtrak's promptness), I will now be in St. Louis at 7 p.m. It gives me eight more hours with her than had the train made its full journey and for that I am glad.

It's been that kind of year lately with unexpected changes and as 2015 draws to a close, I reflect upon the events of this year, the top stories of my life and whatever theme I can come up with that encapsulates the way this run went.

I do it every year. It's probably a news thing; each year the Associated Press sends out ballots to editors to select the top stories of the year. The state wire service does the same thing and, although us reporters don't vote, we do consider the year's legislative actions, the sensational trials, the horrific crimes, the deadly storms and all the other news when debating about the impacting stories of the year.

My personal year, my tour of 2015, has a simple theme. It's “Heart.”

I opened the year with a heavy heart. On Jan. 24, my cat, May, had to be put to sleep after she suffered scores of seizures. I had that cat for seven and a half years and, although I didn't consider myself a cat person at first, I bonded with that pet more than I've done with most humans I've known. It was yet another loss that I seemed to be getting quite experienced with. I deal with abandonment and sadness a lot; it broke my heart losing her.

Later in the year, a friend of mine had a series of medical issues that was somewhat nerve-wracking. Another friend became seriously involved with a woman and I became his consultant during their two-step dance of love, regret, reconciliation and angst. Then, my editor at the newspaper, the best person I've ever worked with, quit and moved off. The heart took a beating with all the changes.

But life soldiered on and in the late summer, my heart woke again. I began talking with my Illinois girl on Aug. 23, and in September I drove the 554 miles to see her for the first time. Everything changed after that. Not to get all mushy here (People can see in the bio on the right side of this post about me being a romantic dreamer), but this girl has made my heart beat again.

The APBA game realm, for which this blog is named, has seen some changes as well. I began a replay of the 1991 baseball season in August but, because of my own changes in life, the pace of the games has slowed. That, in itself, is a change from the norm. But the heart is still there when I do play the occasional contest or two on some days.

So, 2015 began with a broken heart and is closing with a mended one. I will be with my Illinois girl on New Year's Eve and she will be the first person I speak with in 2016. That's a good sign for the upcoming year.

How will this relationship play out in 2016? I have no idea. I am sure there will be many unforeseen changes ahead for the upcoming year, but at least it's beginning with a good heart.

Christmas night 2015: 38 years later

Thirty-eight years ago tonight — at about this exact time — I began the APBA journey that I'm still on. Like many of us sports replay game-playing aficionados, we probably became acquainted with the APBA games on Christmas Day as kids.

I was 17 when I unwrapped the large box containing the APBA football game. It was the last gift my parents handed me from under the Christmas tree. It was the “headliner” gift of the holiday and it was well received. I had played electric football and baseball before, along with simple games that involved dice and spinners as a youngster.

But this game was different. The APBA games were far more complex; they utilized cards with real players' names on them and those cards replicated those players' actual statistics for the season. We could select our lineups, play the games and watch them as they unfolded before us. It was, in a sense, a step into being a grown up while still playing a game.

So, I opened the football game for the 1976 season and looked over the cards. There were Fran Tarkenton, Chuck Foreman, Gene Washington for the Minnesota Vikings, which, because I lived in Minnesota for a while, became the team I followed. Terry Bradshaw, Roger Staubach, Kenny Stabler, O.J. Simpson and others were also carded. I was holding in my hands the heroes of my day.

I stayed up late that Dec. 25, 1977, reading the instructions for the football game, rolling dice, checking charts, learning the game. I selected the New York Giants and the Washington Redskins to play. It was complex and it took hours to figure out. I wanted to play the Vikings, but I needed to first learn the flow of the game. Obviously, I wanted to replay the previous Super Bowl in which Oakland beat the Vikings. I had to set things right.

I have never been one to sleep much; when I was 16, I worked at a bar and restaurant deep into the nights, so I was fine with figuring out the football game during the late hour. My parents slept while I tossed the dice that Christmas night and referred to the cards. I knew I'd be playing it the next day, and the day following. Even then, I understood the lure of this game and the long journey it would take me on.

I am sure so many people embarked on similar journeys on Christmas nights. And I hope more are doing so this night, 38 years later. And that they will play the game for at least 38 years like I have so far. It's one of the mainstays in the life I've run through.

Today, like I've done five times in the 10 years since my wife passed away, I worked Christmas Day at the newspaper where I am employed. Today, I wrote a story about an arson fire at Bill Clinton's birthplace home in Hope, Ark. In the past, I've scribed stories about homicides, a plane crash, snow storms and other mayhem on the holiday. The Christmas night APBA games were always was a respite for the long day. While others spent time with their families on the evening, I came home, left the harshness of the news outside and rolled a few games.

Tonight, later, I'll roll a game between Pittsburgh and Montreal in my 1991 APBA baseball replay and then another game between Detroit and Toronto. I'm still playing the game 38 years later, the longest thing I've consistently done. I've tabled the football game and didn't get into baseball until 1998 when I bought the game — for my own Christmas present that year.

The games keep rolling. They've done so ever since that night in 1977.

Life Happens

I'm not one to necessarily quote musicians much, but Beatles songwriter John Lennon is credited with a saying that is apropos, somewhat, of the APBA replays we all do. Lennon said, “Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans.”

The Fab Four guitarist could easily have been talking about doing these long-running APBA baseball replays that take months or even years to play out. Your own life happens while you're rolling a season that can go on for quite some time. 

Even the most enthusiastic replayer will spend nearly a year recreating one of the earlier baseball seasons that feature the eight-team American and National leagues. Later seasons — post 1968 that include two divisions for each league incorporates more teams and, thus, more games. So, it takes much longer to play those seasons. Hence, life has more of a chance of changing during a replay.

I've seen that in many of my previous replays, and it'll happen again as I am in the early stages of the 1991 APBA baseball season I recently began. We roll the games for seasons that have already happened; we know the real outcome of whatever season we're recreating, and we know the schedule of games, playing them one by one.

But then, life steps in with its unpredictable changes. To create a visual, metaphorical image of this, think of a linear procession of the games we play and the wavy lines of life, much like a seismograph that records earthquakes, or a criminal trying to bluff his way through a lie detector test. The games provide the baseline, life creates the waves.

Cases in point: I got married while replaying the 1992-93 NHL season that APBA released. Later, my wife's health deteriorated due to kidney failure as I did the 1957 season. I bought the house I'm living in now and moved while replaying the 1987 baseball season. And in the solitude after her passing, as I tried to adapt to a new lifestyle alone, I rolled the 1932 baseball season. The games go on as predicted, but the life side is always changing. Things are resolved over the length of a replay.

So, yes, life happens. Unforeseen things, changes, alterations. I covered a school shooting and its subsequent lengthy court proceedings in 1998 for the newspaper where I work that changed me all the while replaying the 1990-91 NBA season. I lost a lot of weight as I tossed the dice for the 1942 baseball season.

Even now, as I have just begun the 1991 season, things changed yet again for me and the wavy lines of my own life are moving yet again.

I began this replay on Aug. 16. One week to a day later, on the evening of Aug. 23, I called a girl I was interested in and talked to her for three hours. A month later, I drove 554 miles to see her and set change, I hope, in motion.

I am playing the games in this replay a bit slower than usual. For once, my own life has taken precedence over the daily routine of rollin' the games. I'll see how my relationship with my Illinois girl will grow during this 1991 replay.  The replay will take months, but life has time and will move along with it. This relationship I've embarked upon will be more defined and, I pray, a hopeful future will be ahead, by the time I roll the last game of the season. I'm doing a refinancing of my home as well and it, too, will be resolved well before this 1991 season ends.

So, we roll these games working a straight line in the season, knocking each game out one by one in that linear procession, while life comes at us with its wavy lines.

1991 First Update: April 22, 1991

Yes, the 1991 APBA baseball season is underway. I've not forgotten it. However, it's been a much slower process this time around, what with changes in my personal life. I began rolling this season on Aug. 16. A week later, I made a phone call to a girl that changed things in my world. Since then, I've been to visit her twice; the games have been placed on hold for at least 12 days during those trips. And, I'm dealing with strep throat now, so I haven't felt much like rolling the games lately, either.

That said, I still find a bit of time to roll a few games and now, four months later, I've reached April 22, 1991.

I mainly embarked on 1991 to replay the Minnesota Twins' World Series year. Also, after more than three years of replays (1942 and 1950) with no East or West divisions, it's a nice change to return to divisional play.

So, with only a few weeks of the actual season replayed, it's hard to get a feel for much. Montreal is really bad so far. They've found ways to lose each of their 13 games. Only 4 were by one run and none was in extra innings. In each replay I've done, I've found one team that defies statistics and either achieves well above expectations or simply plays below them. It looks like the Expos are the doomed team in this replay. Their next six games are against Pittsburgh and St. Louis, which are first and second now in the National League East. They still are a ways from beating the worst start in a baseball season. The 1988 Baltimore Orioles opened their season losing their first 21 games.

Here are the standings as of April 21, 1991

AMERICAN LEAGUE

EAST      W   L    GB

Toronto     8    5    -

Boston       6    5     1

Detroit       5   6      2

Milwaukee 5   7    2.5

Baltimore   4   6    2.5

New York   4   7    3

Cleveland   3   7    3.5

WEST       W   L   GB

Minnesota    9   3      -

Kansas City 8   3     .5

Seattle         8   4     1

Texas          6    3    1.5

Chicago      5    5     3

California   5    8    4.5

Oakland      3   10   6.5

NATIONAL LEAGUE

EAST          W    L    GB

Pittsburgh    10    3      -

St. Louis       9    4     1

New York     8    5     2

Phil'phia       7    6     3

Chicago        5    8     5

Montreal       0   13  10

WEST        W    L   GB

Atlanta        7     3     -

Los Angeles  7   5    1

Cincinnati     6   5    1.5

Houston        6    6    2

San Diego     5    8   3.5

S.Francisco   4    8    4

It's still early to get a feel for the leaders as well. Danny Tartabull of the Kansas City Royals and Kelly Gruber of Toronto lead the American League with five home runs apiece. Howard Johnson, who led the New York Mets in the actual 1991 season, has clubbed eight home runs so far and leads in this replay as well.

So, the progress may be slow this time, but the games will be played eventually.  

The Homeless Philosopher

DALEY PLAZA, CHICAGO — I pulled out my wallet to give money to the homeless guy who accosted us the other day while we were in the southeast corner of the plaza. He approached us quickly and began babbling about needing train fare to visit some family for the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday.

I was intrigued. I wanted to hear his story; as a newspaper guy, I spend most of my days asking questions of people, gleaning tidbits of information and observations from them to compile stories. This was an opportunity to get a behind-the-scenes look at the man's plight and how he got into his situation; a front row seat to one of society's issues.

So I took out the wallet.

And that was a really stupid move akin to opening a can of tuna fish in a cat shelter, or throwing one chunk of steak into the lion's den, or telling a horde of Black Friday shoppers that whoever can get to the huge flat screen television first can buy it at 80 percent off cost.

I had returned to the area last week to visit the Illinois girl who has changed my world. We decided to take the Metra commuter train into the city and spend the day walking around the Loop. She, since having lived there for years, acted the normal urban person. Me, on the other hand, gawked and pointed at buildings and came across like some southern hayseed. A rube ripe for the takings.

We had difficulty finding the Plaza. A street map app on my phone kept misleading us in different directions and by the time we ended up there, we were a bit worn out. Also, we couldn't actually get into the plaza because vendors were setting up for a large event there and instead, we had to sit on the perimeter. And that's where the man found us.

I handed the guy $10. But that wasn't enough. The train ticket, he said, cost something like $14.95. My Illinois girl gave him $1, thinking it was a $10 bill, in an effort to get rid of him. He became adamant, wanting more money. She gave him a $10 of her own.

“I don't have any family,” he said, welling up fake tears and beginning to whine. He needed the money. Needed it desperately. I didn't think at the time to question his contradiction. No family? Just moments ago he said he needed a ticket to visit family.

Instead, I reasoned with him. “I don't have any family, either,” I said.

“You got a wife,” he pointed.

“Not yet,” I countered.

“Well, you got love,” he replied.

And, by gosh, blurting out of the mouth of an obvious guy with some mental issues came forth an observation I couldn't contest. I paused, almost stunned by the beauty of it.

But then he snapped me back into reality. He offered to trade places with me and made an exaggerated high-stepping motion, like he was becoming me, taking over my role. In my mind I wanted to tell him to be careful what he wished for. He wanted to be me? With a career in newspaper — one of the worst financial forms of employment — and a home mortgage with Wells Fargo? I was tempted to make the switch with him merely for economic reasons.

But then it got weird.

He made kissing faces and said he would marry my Illinois girl. He stepped toward her, but never got too close and I got between them, acting as buffer for her safety and to deflect any marriage proposals. I mean, I've known her for only a few months and never got that aggressive. If this homeless guy who probably lives in an Amana refrigerator box somewhere by the Chicago River could sweep her off her feet and away from me, I may have to change my strategies.

We left quickly; he remained in the Plaza, talking about having love and all.

The Chicago Coalition of the Homeless estimates there are close to 90,000 people living in the streets of Chicago. It's hard to get an accurate count because of the transient nature of the homeless. But of those 90,000 or so, we came across the philosopher who espouses love, all the while pleading for cash.

So, was it worth it? Maybe. We saw something different, got an insight into homelessness and received a memory. Although I kicked myself for putting my Illinois girl into any harm's way by being stupid and country.

Later, as we sat in the Ogilvie Transportation Center and waited for our train out, a young guy approached us and asked for $10 to “stay in a hostel.” I started to say something, but my Illinois girl, who opted to stay with me rather than fall for the Plaza guy's advances, quickly took over and told him we had already been hit up on by another guy and we didn't have the cash.

This time, I knew to keep my mouth shut and forego getting any story.

At the Grayslake, Ill., APBA Tournament

When Doug Schuyler throws his APBA dice, his right elbow points out and he looks like he's soon a candidate for Tommy John surgery, what with the torque.

Don Smith blows a duck call during highlights in his own games.

Joel Pike was mired in a 15-inning game and Kevin Burghardt milled about, watching the contests of the Chicago Retro World Series APBA Tournament held Nov. 14 in Grayslake, Ill.

I know all this because I was there. For the first time ever, I actually saw, in person, others who are obsessed with the baseball game with which we all recreate seasons. I made the nine-hour trip from my home to north of Chicago — not specifically for the tournament, mind you, but to make a second visit of a girl who lives nearby and who has changed my world.

I took her with me to the Grayslake Historical Society and Museum to give her a crash course into the game and the mania that ensues. What better way to introduce her to the game than exposing her to a room full of intense guys rolling dice, marking score sheets and watching others play.

When we walked into the museum, two workers greeted us at the door. I told them we were there for the baseball tournament and a man pointed us around a bend toward a room. “I'm surprised you haven't heard them,” a woman said.

At one point, Doug, with that elbow-breaking roll, tossed a walk-off home run for Darryl Strawberry. Loud cheers ensued. My own obsession for the game game seemed pale by comparison.

We were late, and it was difficult to meet and talk with the guys. I've never played an APBA game with anyone else before; the logistics of who rolls the dice, the rules for two, etc., were not familiar with me. It was not a place to learn. Instead, I walked around and recognized a few of the players from pictures I had seen on the APBA Facebook page.

I was glad to meet Rich Zawadzki. I called him at his Jackson, Mich., church a few months ago out of the blue just to talk to him. The other guys were great as well. There's a bonding with this game and although we come from different areas, cultures, lives, we do share the commonality of the game.

It was good seeing Joel as well. By far, he is the most creative person, I think, in our group. Check out his Facebook posts to see what I'm talking about.

The games rolled on. We didn't stay too long. Like I said, it's hard to interfere with guys heavily mired into the strategy of their games. You don't interrupt people praying, eating or rolling APBA dice. It's common courtesy. We left early; we had other stops to make before nightfall and we planned to venture into Chicago the following day.

There are upcoming tournaments in the area. Thomas Nelshoppen has one in the Champaign, Ill., area in April and Doug has another in Grayslake in July. I won't play in them — I can never commit to anything like that far ahead because of the fickle nature of my news job and its schedules. But I do know that I have added motivation to make it back up there to visit my Illinois girl. And I don't think the mania she saw that Saturday scared her away … yet.

Three Books for the Off-Season

Baseball is over and the wait for the next season begins, but that doesn't mean we have to stop thinking about the game. Along with the APBA replays that we can carry on through the off-season (and in some cases a few off-seasons for a long replay), there are plenty of books to read to maintain our fixes.

I delved into three this year that provided looks at the business behind baseball. It's fun reading about players during the actual season, especially those who may starred in the past and during an old replay we are engaged in. But there are other parts of the game that bear study as well.

So, I offer three books that may help carry us through the downtime between that last World Series out and the first pitch of the 2016 season. These were published earlier this year; obviously, there will be plenty more published in the near future including the expected myriad of books on the Kansas City Royals' success, retiring players and new looks at historical events — such as the latest look at the 1919 Chicago White Sox's World Series scandal.

Here are three books I read this summer:

Big Data Baseball, Travis Sawchik

Who would have thought a book about math and statistics would be so entertaining? Granted, there is the baseball element that's always good, but reading about math and probabilities and ratios is not a high selling point for some books.

 But Travis Sawchik does an amazing job of incorporating the mathematical principals used by the 2013 Pittsburgh Pirates to turn their team around and end a 20-year losing season streak into a dramatic story. He writes of how manager Clint Hurdle got his players to accept the changes.

A lot of the book focuses on defensive shifts made popular when the Cleveland Indians are (wrongly) first credited for moving fielders to one side of second base to deal with Ted Williams. He also writes of pitch-framing by catchers and the changing pitcher's motions for different release points of the ball. Hurdle even debated about going with a four-man rotation rather than a five-man one.

Baseball fans all remember 2013 and how the Pirates began hot and held on. In the past, Pittsburgh teams, if they were decent in the spring, usually faltered by August and resumed their position well behind St. Louis in the Central.

There will be comparisons with Sawchik's book to Moneyball. I felt the writing in Big Data was far more engaging. While Lewis' book was good on stats and written, well, Sawchik is a fan from Pittsburgh, and his heart comes through in this. His writing about Pittsburgh clinching its first winning season and then its playoff birth are very good and entertaining.

The Game, Jon Pessah

How can you write a gripping narrative about the business of baseball? Jon Pessah knows how. This book, which covers Bud Selig's career as interim commissioner and commissioner from 1992 to 2010, is a must-read for any baseball fan. It chronicles in full detail the negotiations of the 1994 strike — Selig's first real crisis — labor issues, television contracts, exorbitant salaries, George Steinbrenner's life, talks of contractions, Milwaukee's stadium heist and steroids.

At first glance, this book seems only suited for the real baseball fan. But Mr. Pessah writes in such a compelling, drawing-in way, that the 580-plus pages of copy is not deterring at all and in fact is written with drama, pacing and flow that a good novel has.

He doesn't exalt Selig in The Game, nor does he slam him too much. In the end, he argues that Selig should have a place in the Hall of Fame which, despite my personal feelings of his tenure, totally agree.

Mr. Pessah offers a lot of behind-the-scenes looks at the negotiations during the 1994 strike. Donald Fehr, in my opinion, comes across as a turd. Also, Rob Manfred is foreshadowed as the new commissioner. There is also the blind eye toward steroid use and how the belief of the 1998 home run race between Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire brought fans back to the game. However, their records were tarnished by later admissions of PEDs. Mr. Pessah also delves into Selig's dilemma of if he should attend Barry Bond's games as he neared breaking Henry Aaron's career home run record. Selig eventually attended a few games in San Diego, but fortunately for him, Bonds did not hit the coveted homer there. And fortunately for Selig, Pessah notes, the commissioner returned east for Hall of Fame inductions and was not able to attend Bonds' games in San Francisco where he hit the record.

All that to say, The Game has a lot of information that enhances what we remember during his tenure as commissioner. A companion book that may be interesting to read before this is Marvin Miller's A Whole Different Ballgame to set sort of a precedent to the salaries and times that Selig oversaw.

Mr. Pessah hits this one out of the park with his fine reporting on a subject that many would not be able to so deftly write about.

The Best Team Money Can Buy, Molly Knight

Put aside Molly Knight's huge crush on Los Angeles Dodgers' pitcher Clayton Kershaw for a bit while you read this, and you'll see the bigger picture on how the team became an annual playoff contender. Knight spent the 2013 season with the team and provides the behind-the-scenes looks that baseball fans crave.

She writes of the personalities of that team. Zach Greinke and his anxieties and medications, Yasiel Puig and his ups and downs during the season, Kershaw's contract workings, Shawn Kemp and Andre Ethier both tangling for outfield positions and the Dodgers' 42-8 run that took them from last in the National League West to first place.

I got to go to Game 2 of the 2013 NLCS when the Dodgers played in St. Louis. Puig struck out four times and the Cardinals' fans razzed him. I saw him angrily slam his bat down and head to the dugout, but I didn't realize until reading Knight's recount of it that Puig broke down into tears of frustration and shame. It's little nuggets like that that carry this book along.

Knight also uncovers the insanity that was the Frank McCourt ownership of the Dodgers at the beginning of the book and the divorce settlement that wracked the team. It reads as a soap opera that's really hard to believe.

Sullen players, egos, big bankrolls, playoff baseball. It's all in this book. Whether you like the Dodgers or not, Knight's book is an interesting read to see how a team is formed.

These are just three books. There are plenty of others out there as well.. Hopefully, they'll help carry you through the winter months and into spring before the next season starts.