R.I.P., Jerry Girard

If you grew up in the Greater New York area in the 1980s, you probably remember two things about Channel 11.

The first was this mini-TV show, really a long station promo, where kids would call in to play a live on-screen video game (kind of like Atari's Star Wars, or maybe it was Star Wars), where the kid would say "Pix!" to fire. (Since there was a lag, usually the kid wouldn't do so good. At least half the kids just repeatedly screamed "PIX PIX PIX PIX PIX" regardless of what was happening on the screen.)

The second thing was Jerry Girard, the wise-cracking sports anchor with a hair-do like a steel helmet. For most of his career -- from 1974 to 1995 -- there was no ESPN, WFAN or the Internet. If you wanted to find out what happened in sports, you either had to wait for the morning paper or tune in to the nightly news. Jerry Girard was the guy I always watched.

Girard was smart, funny and always different. He would do this thing on Monday nights when he would show the little-noticed plays from Sunday's games. Instead of showing the clip of Dave Meggett diving over the pile into the end zone -- which by Monday night everyone had already seen more than once -- Girard would show the play just before that one, where Chris Calloway made a huge catch for a key third down conversion. He had the insight to know which was the true key play and trusted his audience would care about that too.

He also was funny, and I don't mean like the asshats on Best Damn Sports Show or Fox football pre-game. This little clip of Girard has some of his wry humor. You would always hear the other people on the set cracking up as he dead-panned a classic line.

Girard died Sunday from cancer. He was 74, born in Chicago but raised in the Bronx, and was always a Yankee fan. (For some reason, a few of the obits say he was 75 and born in the Bronx, but I'm going by the "official" obit from Channel 11.) In one obit, he was quoted in a 1984 interview saying, "I made a pledge to myself when I first went on the air that I was going to be myself, sink or swim." He maintained that attitude right 'til the end, resigning in 1995 after more than 20 years rather than accepting a demotion as sports anchor. He hasn't been seen on TV since.

Rest in peace Jerry. Thanks for some great work.

The Beauty of Baseball. Part 1 An Overview

I have talked to people in my life, men and women, that don't like sports. They don't understand them. Once, when I was traveling overseas and a less temperate person I almost got into a fistfight with a Peace Corps volunteer who argued that sports in general degraded society as a whole. I know that doesn't say a lot for me as a person, but I am pretty sure, if you are a sports fan, you would have been on my side.

Sports polarizes society in a lot of ways. Even the most casual sports fan has heard the phrase performance enhancing drugs in relation to baseball. For the moment let's take that out of the mix and look at the beauty of baseball.

In many ways the baseball season is perfect. Spring training is a month long season of hope. Fresh faced youngsters take the field with dreams of defying the odds. Grizzled veterans arrive ready to fight for one last shot at glory. Wounded superstars test their surgically repaired limbs and hope a lifetime of work wasn't ruined by a surgeon's scalpel.

April opens the season and every coach, player and fan check the box scores daily. Who got off to a hot start? Who is surprisingly cold? Fandom is light in April. Every team is in the hunt for the World Series. Every rookie is the second coming of Joe DiMaggio and someone will hit 5 home runs the first week of the season prompting a joke on Sportscenter that particular player is on pace to break every statistical record in baseball.

May and June show the teams with a chance to win it all. Usually there is a surprise or two and every baseball writer in America wonders if the surprise team can keep it up for the whole season. (My bet is on the Milwaukee Brewers this year) A serious injury or two befall young pitchers and a slew of stories appear about the stress of pitching on young arms and what teams can do to protect their youngsters.

The beginning of July starts the trade rumors in earnest. Who is buying, going for the championship this year? (I say the Phillies) Who is selling, packing it in with the hopes of retooling their organization for the future? (Seattle, bank on it) We watch the All-Star game which invariably prompts a mindless debate on the fairness of the selection process and players that were left off the team are highlighted all over the press. July however, is just getting started.

You have not seen a media or fan frenzy until you really watch baseball as the trading deadline approaches. Speculation is rampant, who will be traded before the deadline? Who will stay with their team? Which player will demand a trade because his team doesn't care about winning? Which franchise will irritate its fan base by not making any deals? Every team will be burning up the phone lines exploring possibilities. Should they trade their future stars for a veteran that can help them now? Should they stand pat and hope their team has enough talent to go all the way? If you see a mid-season managerial firing, July is often the time. There is usually enough intrigue and posturing in baseball in July to make Machiavelli posthumously proud.

August is the calm after the storm of July and before the storm of September. The teams with the most endurance survive August, either leading their division or in contention. It isn't unusual to see a team completely implode in August as nagging injuries and under performance take center stage in the news. (Look for the Dodgers to embody this in 2007) August will bring out individual stars for the media to highlight. Will someone be on pace to break the home run record? (Doubtful) Will someone be hitting close to, or over, .400? (Robinson Cano)

The benign laziness of August becomes the frenzied race for the finish line. The main group of contenders are usually well entrenched and are battling each other for playoff position. The last couple of remaining playoff slots are being hotly contested every night. You will see Minnesota Twins, Chicago White Sox, Detroit Tigers, and Boston Red Sox staring out of their dugouts every night at the out of town scoreboard, gauging if at that moment, they are in or out of the playoffs.

The last two weeks of the season are breakneck. Every pitch matters. An ill timed error can break the collective heart of an entire city. A critical injury can leave a team with a gaping hole at a crucial position and there will be an opportunity for someone you never heard of to capture your imagination in one moment. (Kevin Kouzmanoff)

And then, ever so abruptly, the regular season ends.

But it isn't over.

The playoffs rain down on our senses and the intensity of September is exponentially magnified in October. Baseball fans are up late watching games until after midnight because there is so much riding on every pitch. Stories are written about courage and fortitude and each match up is broken down to statistical minutia so tediously intricate that you can't help but wonder about the private lives of the statisticians who invented them. You hear terms like VORP and OPS+ and only have a moment to wonder about them because Albert Pujols hits a ball farther than you have ever seen and Busch Stadium in St. Louis explodes on your television set as a city full of baseball fans rejoice as one.

Someone is crowned champion in mid-October as champagne showers down in their clubhouse. Stories are written about unexpected contributions from middle relievers and pinch hitters. We know about the heroes families and how they overcame adversity to make the major leagues. We rejoice with the victors and sympathize with the vanquished who left everything on the field. Together, as baseball fans, we are filled with its beauty.

The day after the World Series ends there is a bit of emptiness, but don't worry, only about 120 days until pitchers and catchers report for the next season.