ST. LOUIS — Baseball’s expanded use of replay and the increasing (exponentially) use of defensive shifts have had ripple effects on the game’s offense, the game’s officiating, and, yes, even the game’s scorebook shorthand. In a blog today at StlToday.com, I made some suggestions for how to score shifts and what notation can be used for replays, whether they’re overturned or not.
The following short story was drawn, inked, and colored by Jim Mosley based on my scribbles and script. It originally appeared in Home Brew, a collection of comic book tales published in 2014 and based on St. Louis to mark the city’s 250th birthday. The book can still be purchased here. The entire six-page story has been reprinted here with the blessing of Handsome Jim on what would have been Babe Ruth’s 120th birthday.
— Derrick Goold
<1> Continue reading
WASHINGTON — As I plunged into Cardinals history for a book several years ago, one of the minor stories that always felt like it had major possibilities was the legend spun by pitcher Flint Rhem. A righty with the Cardinals, Rhem went missing for several days in September 1930 while the team was in New York, set to play a key series against the Brooklyn Dodgers. He returned to the team with this fantastic tale of kidnapping, thugs, and forced binging. It was all fiction, of course. Longtime Post-Dispatch columnist and Cardinals chronicler Bob Broeg wrote that Rhem had all the talent in the world but would drink himself out of the game. He certainly drank himself into this story. Still, it was fertile ground for writing. The gaps in memories are always fun to fill, and here were two days — two whole days — carved out of Cardinals history that were blank. What did Rhem do during his “kidnapping”? What could have Rhem done during his “kidnapping”? Maybe he really was ambushed by thugs and forced to chug grain alcohol for two days. Maybe there was a gambling element, because isn’t there always? Maybe he raced around New York saving cats from trees, apprehending robbers, and doing so much good that no one would believe him anyway. Or, as I thought when the opportunity to came to write this story, maybe he saved baseball.
Many months ago, I was asking at the comic shop about a local St. Louis group, Ink and Drink Comics, and the anthologies they had produced in recent years — sci-fi, romance, horror, wild west. A lapsed cartoonist with a comic sweet tooth, I always wanted to try my hand at writing a comic book story. It would be a Continue reading
JUPITER, Fla. — For the first time in 16 years, Hall of Fame shortstop Ozzie Smith returned to the fields of Roger Dean Stadium in a St. Louis Cardinals uniform, and it took him less than four hours and all of seven words to capture what keeps so many of us coming back year after year after year to spring training and the game that captivates us.
He took a deep sniff and told a few of us, “It is nice breathing good baseball air.”
JUPITER, Fla. — During my senior year at Mizzou, I finally got to take a class I’d been eying since entering the School of Journalism. I don’t recall the number — it was somewhere in the 300s — but I do remember the unofficial title we had for it: our immersion project.
An exercise in long-form journalism, the semester’s assignment was to plant yourself inside a story, wallow in it for more than a month, and then emerge with a deep, penetrating and, in some cases, personal story about the experience. In short, the idea was to immerse yourself in the story. Today, we might call this embedding. Students would work at shelters. They would ride along with a high school team for a season. They’d go through a round of cancer treatments with the family of a patient. I spent my semester entrenched in the Kenny Hulshof campaign for Congress, and by the end I was able to chronicle from behind closed doors how a Republican won Missouri’s ninth district for the first time in more than Continue reading
JUPITER, Fla. — This afternoon, on the eve of report day for St. Louis Cardinals pitchers and catchers, the clubbies continued setting up the clubhouse by hanging jerseys at each locker … with, um, care.
I snapped a picture of the corner awaiting position players when they arrive:
The unopened bags, the anticipation of spring training’s opening, the jerseys hung ever so carefully — why that phrase kept clinking around in my skull all afternoon and the obvious result was — what else? — a poem, starring the local nine and even some of the journalists who cover the club. Here goes.
‘Twas the Night Before Spring Training
‘Twas the night before spring training, when all through the clubhouse
Not a reliever was warming, not even a Motte
The jerseys were hung by their lockers with care,
in hopes that the Cardinals soon would be there.
The baseballs are nestled, all rubbed up with mud,
eager for that whack that smears the signature from Bud.
And Hummel at his keyboard, and I on the blog,
had just sent our stories to beat a deadline slog.
When out on Field 1, there arose such a clatter Continue reading
TOWER GROVE — In 1994, late in the last stand of 16-bit consoles, a Super Nintendo baseball game gained the endorsement of All-Star center fielder Ken Griffey Jr. and approval of Major League Baseball, but it could not land the licensing rights from the Major League Baseball Players Association and could not use real games.
For that, we are forever grateful.
A lack of authentic names forced a stroke of genius.
“Ken Griffey Jr. Presents Major League Baseball” brought some of the most creative lineups ever to gamers. Oh, if only they were real! Unable to have Cal Ripken Jr. as the starting shortstop for the Baltimore Orioles, Junior’s game instead had Baltimore native (and colorful film director) John Waters playing shortstop. The Colorado Rockies were loaded with famous movie monster actors, putting, as the game says, B. Legosi in center field and L. Chaney at first. Griffey is playing center for the Seattle Mariners — hey, he endorsed the game — but instead of Jay Buhner, Edgar Martinez and Tin Martinez around him in the lineup are the names of Nintendo employees. The Kansas City Royals are former presidents. The New York Mets and Los Angeles Dodgers are punk bands from those areas, putting the city’s Joey Ramone against the coast’s Lux Interior. The Oakland Athletics have a lineup of authors such as M. Twain, L. Tolstoy and, filling in at first base fore Mark McGwire, is a bearded chap named Continue reading