Despite the loss, this was a game Cleveland needed
October 3, 2013Dear Browns, I have a favor to ask…..
October 3, 2013While the genesis and timing of the actual decision are still unknown, there was a point leading up to Wednesday night’s American League Wild Card game where I decided that I was going to watch in solitude. Not alone, in a closet, with some tin foil antennae attached to a 16-inch television while I consume beef jerky and water, but free from the thousand-or-so individuals who populate my Twitter feed at any given time1. Though the beef jerky itself sounds delightful, I wanted to be free from the noise—the pitch-by-pitch analysis and valueless play-by-play and electronic onomatopoeias, the “I told you sos” peddled as “truths” and the potential for glass-half-empty garbage that would otherwise take away from the fact that the baseball team I root for had somehow put together a 90-plus win season and was still playing the game I love into the month of October.
I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t curious what others were saying. I’d also be lying if I said that the fact that many of the opinions I valued—the cavalcade of WFNY writers who were inside of Progressive Field, thus likely having trouble tweeting due to depleted cell signal—didn’t help make this decision that much easier. I could hear the crowd, I could see the towels. I knew how electric the atmosphere was; the 5.1 surround sound helped propel the waves into my living room. The last thing I needed was to see some local troll or national pundit spew something negative. As easy as it would be to ignore, why invite any ounce of potential negativity into my experience? My thoughts on baseball in the Information Age are well-documented by this point. If the night-by-night noise was excruciating enough, a minute-by-minute account of what was unfolding would have put me over the top.
Danny Salazar’s arm was something to behold. The flailing bats of the Tampa Bay Rays early in the contest were hapless at best. The kid is easily one of the biggest feel-good stories of the year…
The first hit, a double off of the bat of Ryan Raburn—my Goon Squad doppelganger—produced a sizable fist pump. What a resurrection for this guy. The worst everyday player in the game a season ago was providing value almost every night he stepped on to the field—a huge win for Chris Antonetti and company…
Then it was first-pitch home run off of the bat of Delmon Young was undeniably a gut punch. Not only was it a moon shot, it was a moon shot from a player who was essentially a Free Agent just a month earlier. He was a player who the Indians could have picked up, perhaps instead of Jason Kubel (remember him?) if only so that another team could not land him and deploy his postseason-hero ways against them…
This roller coaster would continue on through the course of the game, from the stranded base-runners to the solid production from Yan Gomes and Lonnie Chisenhall; Jason Kipnis and Asdrubal Cabrera swinging at balls to Justin Masterson’s filthy good sinker. I’m a superstitious kid at heart, so when I fetched myself another Oktoberfest from the fridge, I found myself standing at what could best be described as a placekicker’s distance from the television—a few feet back, a few feet to the left. Shortly thereafter, the Indians had runners on second and third with one out. Obviously, my positioning on the Earth’s surface led to this occurrence. Unfortunately, I didn’t account for rotation speed and the ducks were left on the pond, a zero continued to hang in the Tribe’s run column. I would saunter back to the couch, head hung like a Bluth and simply continued watching.
What did the folks on Twitter think? Eh, probably something about Asdrubal Cabrera and hindsight trades that may or may not have even been entertained by another franchise’s front office; potentially something asinine about Jason Kipnis that completely ignored the facts that: He’s an All-Star at a shallow position, is still 26-years old and was a player who, somehow, led the Indians in stolen bases and runs batted in—two otherwise antithetical statistics when it comes to players and their skill set, and is a player who is ranked right next to the nation’s top prospect when it comes to trade value. Who needs that? Usually me, admittedly, but not on this night, not for this game, not for this team.
This winter will undeniably be a long one. In seasons past, I can be found glued to the television set, watching every pitch of the postseason. Every ebb, every flow; every one-out-to-go collapse, every where-did-this-guy-come-from moment. (The 2011 playoffs will forever be remembered given the way that Roy Halladay and Chris Carpenter battled in that epic Game 5; the way that the Rangers, just an out away in multiple instances, were introduced—along with the rest of the world—to David Freese.) But not this season. I think I’m done with baseball for the year. Prior years were there because I love the game and because I dreamt of my team getting to play under those lights. Now they have. And now I want to see what they can do in the coming months to ensure that 2013—despite odds, despite statistical inferences and records against teams of a certain caliber—was not an aberration.
I will tune in tonight as my city is, once again, represented in front of a national audience as the Browns host the Buffalo Bills. I’ll check in on Twitter from time to time, avoiding the play-by-play but gazing at the opinions of those individuals whom I value while doing my best to ignore those who want to spout nonsense and vitriol. Let’s be honest: It’s a midseason game for a rebuilding team who has caught some national attention for executed trades and those that are still rumored; the analysis is important and my fantasy teams rely on some of the statistical outcomes. However, I long for the day that the Browns make the postseason and it’s all reduced to noise. I long for the day that all of my teams return to the playoffs and we get to enjoy the successes for what they are, ignoring all of the outsiders who want to influence otherwise.
The 2013 Indians showed us all what it’s like to finally discuss a winner, not just in an instant reaction, ranting and raving kind of way, but in a more macro, “Hey, this is what a winning season is like” kind of way.
One look at Twitter the morning after, and I’m glad to know that I didn’t miss much, if anything at all. The loss still stings, but just a bit. The worst part is that the Information Age requires immediacy. March of 2014 can’t get here fast enough.
WFNY™
— Scott @ WFNY (@WFNYScott) October 3, 2013
- Before anyone wants to cast this as some sort of sign of dependency, Twitter is simply the nature of the beast when it comes to this Internet world we trade in. Not experiencing one of the biggest games of the last several years with those who I interact with on a daily basis is, well, kind of weird. [↩]
54 Comments
I did the same thing and I don’t regret it. A brief scan of twitter was basically “they don’t belong here” (which is crap), second guessing about starting Salazar over Masterson, and a lot of local fans getting in fights with trolls from Detroit painting the entire fanbase with a massive brush after that guy threw his beer at DeJesus.
Twitter was actually great after the game. Lot of heartbreak, obviously, but a lot of people appreciating how well the team did this year. Better than just about all our expectations.
Way to go Scott free urself of the Tweety! Although I must disagree beef jerky is turrible! I also disagree March take your time well at least until December and January when Cleveland is supposed to be in a deep freeze. On second thought save that jerky.
Being on WFNY’s live blog while I watched was great. No nincompoops and the humor eased the pain. Some of you people are seriously funny.
Thanks gain, Andrew.
I don’t think I’ll ever understand how or why this medium, with all its tedious banality, is so darn important to people. Get a life!
Hell, back in my day we painted on cave walls. And we LIKED IT.
It’s good for news and stories but just like everything else it’s been hijacked, misused and ruined by our fellow homo sapiens. Speaking of which I just got an alert about a shooting in Washington on Capitol Hill. Ironic.
Whenever I see some techno-junkie hunched over his SmartPhone it strikes me that this person is incapable of enjoying, or even experiencing, the moment. These addicts pay no attention to where they are and who they’re with because they’d apparently rather be somewhere else with somebody else. It’s pretty sad.
This x1000.
my stance on twitter is known enough.
regardless, I really don’t think I could handle watching such a high pressure game with that much outside influence. heck, I turned the game from TV to radio because I couldn’t stand watching Cleveland fans wave towels. then, after we blew our 2nd golden opportunity to score, I took my act on the road and went grocery shopping while listening to most of the rest of the game on my phone (as I was going to pace anyways, so I might as well get something done while pacing).
Then again, I’m weird.
Oh you see that all over nowadays especially at sporting events that’s part of the reason First Energy needed to improve it’s WiFi.
It used to bother me but it’s become so prevalent nowadays nothing you can do. Once again it’s technology being overused or misused or hijacked by people.
Ur just old which reminds me no rants about the football team? 😉
Enjoyed this post (really), but, come on, someone has to point out the comic irony (why, thank you, I will! – and for the record, since Craig has already made me feel like Hitler today, what I’m about to say is intended to be all in fun. Fun, I tell you. It’s fun, da**it.):
You add a footnote that says, “Before anyone wants to cast this as dependency . . .” and then go on in the body of the article to say, “Who needs that? Usually me, admittedly.” Um, yeah, I’d call that “dependency.”
And the whole notion that it’s not dependence but “the nature of the beast” or the product of living in the “Information Age,” is frankly tantamount to an alcoholic saying “Everyone gets drunk on the weekend!” or a crack addict wondering “How can I party if I don’t have it?” Lots of us living in the Information Age have never jonesed for a hit of Twitter.
Not to mention (but I will!), the very presence of a “Twitter-free” article is basically the prelude to an admission that, “Hi. I’m Scott, and I’ve been clean for 1 week.”
Scott, get thee to a 12 step program before we have to convene an intervention, here.
I’m sorry, what was that? I was checking something SWEET my ex-girlfriend’s little sister (she’s adopted!) posted on Facebook about pandas, and pooping, and something something.
Speaking of which, the Browns were ridiculed last year when they announced a plan to hand out white towels.
Back before 1995, I used to watch October baseball and think, “Man, it must be fun have your team in the playoffs.” Then we started making the playoffs and it wasn’t fun at all. The tension was excruciating. There was nothing enjoyable about it. I used to smoke back then, and I must have gone through a whole pack during that Mussina game that we won late.
Still, it beats the alternative.
That reminds me they took down the Panda Cam at the National Zoo because of this “government shutdown.” &^%$#!@*%$#@!^*%$#@!
“Then again, I’m weird,” admittance is the first step!
I don’t think it was white towels I think it was white flags or something of that sort. Being that football team “raising the white flag” was just a natural. If it was indeed towels, well, “throwing in the towel” would have been fitting as well.
D**n right we did. And we didn’t need to click on something to LIKE IT, either.
Perry Mason strikes again!
I love to poke don’t u?
I have full embraced it. Heck, I even live in Austin.
Heh. You and I watch/listen/absorb playoff baseball in very similar manners.
I did not watch/listen to the 9th. I actually went to bed not knowing, like a little kid thinking that maybe his goldfish would magically be alive again tomorrow morning.
Playoff baseball, for a fan, is by far the WORST thing to have to suffer through/enjoy.
BOO! Keep Austin 180 miles from here!
I love the tension. Though it’ll never be as high (taut?) as my son playing in the LL city tournament, it’s still enough to drive me crazy for a little while.
Certainly, you are aware that what we do here at WFNY is free to consume by our readers. Given that we do not charge—if anything, we spend money on our readers—we are forced to leverage our referral sources (Twitter, Facebook, Google, etc). Whether you want to attempt to peg Twitter as being analogous to alcoholism is your prerogative. As a proprietor of this website, it’s a cost-free way to grow our readership and, in turn, survive. Being an active participant in a medium that aids in survival is no different than any business-owner leveraging their referral partners, be they clients or mere supply chain efficiencies.
Your comment and subsequent condescension is case in point as to why the footnote was necessary.
I don’t think I could have gone to sleep though. I’d be going through every conceivable (and inconceivable) possibility in my head while trying to fall asleep 🙂
AW SNAP!
it’s slowly creeping it’s borders outward. Buda/Kyle/Bastrop are pretty much part of Austin proper now. We will keep expanding!
Well weirdos are people too!
Not to be one of those despondent, negative fans, but it’s not like I went to bed not knowing. In my bones, I knew.
Man, Garry Owen really getting it from all sides.
He’s rationalizing, Garry, which means he’s pretty far gone. We may have lost him for good. But we can still try to save others.
yo Garry, Scott apparently has rejected your “fun” disclaimer.
It was meant . . . in fun. fun. that’s all. truly. honest. it was a humorous observation intended, in part, as sattire (notwithstanding the studies that have shown internet addiction to be an honest-to-gosh real thing, that was the crux of the “alcohol” and “crack” comment).
I can see it wasn’t fun for you.
Sorry.
Now open: a local chapter of the He Man Garry Haters Club.
I’m starting to think that I should join that club.
Ha haaaa! You reached back to the cave wall for that one, Harv.
Between Austin and Dallas, it’s takes all an honest Houstonian can do to keep the state from going to hell.
funny, given that the summer weather in Houston might be the closest depiction to Hell on Earth 😉
This shall be my finest hour.
Oh yeah?! Well your reply comment to my comment and subsequent condescending condenscension to my false (non-existent, really) condescension is case in point as to why my comment to your footnote was necessary!
Seriously? Are we really doing this? I’m not your enemy, Scott. Al Qaida’s the enemy. Them and the Steelers. Them, the Steelers, and high blood pressure.
I’m so old I was the model for those paintings. Or maybe the artist. Barely remember the bran I ate for breakfast.
Those lead paint chips aren’t bran.
And most of the place kind of smells like sulfur (or some other nasty chemicals). Hey, we keep it real.
and you are …
Don’t you see that if you guys keep at it the Rays win?
… spending far too much time doing this when I should be “practicing law.”
Everyone can go home now. I concede my villainy and place my fate at the mercy of the collective.
For the sake of Steve Irwin, I humbly withdraw.
Resistance is futile!
Oh noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Oh. Yes.