The Champ is Here.

478 saves. In his 13 years in the MLB, Trevor Hoffman has acquired 478 saves - the most in the history of the MLB, tied with Lee Smith for the all time record. Today, on September 24th, the crowd came alive as #51 took to the mound. Everybody knew what was at stake as Hoffman attempted to take the all-time record, as well as carry the Padres to a 2-1 victory over the Pittsburgh Pirates.

Hoffman would lead off the 9th inning with a strike on the outside to Ryan Doumit, followed by a ball to the outside and a foul... BANG! A breaking change up that would freeze the best in the business sends Doumit to the showers with a K on his shoulders.

Next to the plate is Jose Bautista, who takes a ball, and then eats two strikes to make the count 1-2. Bautista fouls off the next pitch to regain his composure, then takes the next pitch for a ball; the count is 2-2. Hoffman decides to come inside, as he has for more than a decade in Major League Baseball, but Bautista ducks out of the way to make it a full count. Hoffman reaches back for a powerful fastball, but Bautista does his best to foul the ball back into the stands... Fed up with this battle, Hoffman winds up and guns a fastball past Bautista for his second K of the inning!

Enter Freddy Sanchez, one of the NL's best hitters this season, and a constant threat to get on base (.342 average as of this time). Sanchez goes for gold early, but whiffs at the Hoffman offering - falling behind early, 0-1. Hoffman cleans his hand on his pocket and prepares for his next pitch. Sanchez takes the fastball offering and grounds sharply to shortstop Geoff Blum! It should be a close play, but as if fate has intervened (or Sanchez is doing Hoffman a favor), Freddy Sanchez trips as he leaves the batter's box! Blum guns to first and the ballgame is over, history has been made.

The fans at PETCO park explode as Hell's Bells (Hoffman's theme for the past few years) begins pounding through the PA system. The Padre bench clears as the entire team surrounds Trevor Hoffman at the mound, celebrating their closer's 33rd save of the year, but more importantly, the 479th save of his career. Ladies and gentlemen... The new king of saves is here, and he is Trevor Hoffman!

As a proud Californian, I can not think of a better man to break the all-time save mark. Trevor Hoffman is a hell of a player, a great man and a wonderful influence to his team. On behalf of MLB fans around the world, I am proud to be the first to thank you and wish you well over the rest of the season. Congratulations, Trevor, I knew you had it in you!

With this win, the Padres move 2 games ahead of the Dodgers in the NL West race, and could be up 2.5 games by the end of the day.

Cheers,
Jack Jablin

When Big Papi Swings

Ortiz did it. He broke Foxx's record and he did it in style.

There are sports writers in Boston who think that such things should only count if the team is having a stellar year. I disagree. We needed Big Papi's big swing this year more than ever. It is a bright spot in a rather gray year overall for the Sox and for Major League Baseball.

What David Ortiz accomplished this year is truly amazing. He did it without unknowingly consuming illegal substances from BALCO. He did it in spite of watching teammate after teammate fall to injury and disease. He did it without complaint even knowing that the odds of making it to the post season are slim to none right now. He went out and did what it is he does and for someone like me, that's the way it should be because that's what baseball truly about.

So as the leaves fall from the trees and the cold winds blow, I have a warm spot that will glow all the way until mid-February - to the day pitchers and catchers report in and I eagerly await the glow of summer to take over once again.

Bi-polar Fandom

I have been a Sox fan since before 1967, that means I've been in this for the long haul. In many ways, it feels like a marriage - you know: richer and poorer, in sickness and in health until death us do part.

But it didn't really hit me of how much of a fan I truly am until very recently when I found myself calculating what the Sox needed to do in order to win the division. It was that manic sort of, "If they take the series in New York and put together a decent streak with these new kids pitching then...."

Lord in heaven only a truly commitable fan thinks that way.

Truth is that there is a big piece of me hoping we don't make it to the off season. I really do need a break from the roller coaster ride that has become the Sox since the new ownership came in. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love that they are committed to a top-notch team. But sometimes we all need a rest and I think I'm now at a point where I'm OK with a fall to focus on apple picking and running longer distances in the crisp air as colorful leaves float down around me.

Oh who am I kidding - I want to see these guys come back strong and put the ney-sayers and pink hat fans in their place so I can turn and say, "I told you so." But if they don't, I'll be ready with my old chant: just wait until next year.

Praying for Jon Lester's mom

Yesterday the sky over Fenway was a physical manifestation of the mood that hung over the park since Friday's night announcement about Jon Lester is now facing a battle with large cell anaplastic lymphoma. Players, staff and fans are all at a point where you want to ask, "What's next?"

For about a week now, I've been trying to write about this only to start crying and replaying the moments in which my Mr. Pi was going through the worst of his kidney stuff. It has dredged up the memories and feelings I thought I had long since dealt with and moved past - only to find out I haven't.

Like most people, I would take the "curse" of being number two over this season's "curse" of serious injuries and illness. I'd rather a broken heart in October than the pain of watching strong men fall one by one - each time a little harder than the one before.

From all accounts, Jon Lester is a good kid. For me, he is one of the kids that made me face the reality that I am now old enough that when I look at the field, the majority of the players are now babies and not babes. Right now all I want to do is sit quietly with his mother and let her cry and talk and do what it is that mothers do when they see what their babies are going through when facing serious medical issues.

I want to say, "It's not your fault." I want to say that because the first thing most parents do upon hearing the news is say, "This is because I ..." and insert your actions here. I didn't feed him enough fresh vegetables growing up... I let him play in the sun without sunscreen when he was little... I didn't stop him from drinking tap water... It can't be random to see your baby that sick and it must have been your fault because you were supposed to protect him from all the bad and scary things out there. It doesn't matter how old your baby may be.

People are praying for Jon Lester. People who will never meet him are praying that his goal of showing up at spring training good as new is a realistic one that we will all see. Right now, I'm not only praying that the Archangel Raphael, the spirit of healing, blesses him but I am also praying he blesses his parents who are beside themselves right now. Particularly I'm praying for his mom because I understand where she is right now.

Men are raised to be brave no matter what they're feeling inside and never let it show, women are not. We are trained to take all the emotions and energy the family is feeling and let it show as a form of catharsis while trying to keep things as normal as possible. It's a different role than men play in our society. I understand that role too well having been there myself.

I believe that Jon Lester will beat this and may he beat it back as strongly as Lance Armstrong. May he come back stronger and more determined. May he win an unprecedented 7 Cy Young's in a row (hopefully in a Boston uniform) and be a beacon of hope for others facing their personal difficulties - whatever they may be. But until that day, remember to pray for his parents, family and friends as well. Particular for his mother who will never be able to watch him do something profoundly normal without a tear in her again.

Because that's what moms do.

Baseball, Death and Are You a Bad Fan?

Yeah, it's kinda like that

On Tuesday, the 8th of August, I sat in row X of Kauffman Stadium - just yards from Kansas City's famous Arrowhead Stadium - with my best pals at my side and frosty dew in hand. I had come to see the Red Sox and Royals do battle in a series that may as well have been a "gimmie" for the BoSox, but there I was, front and center in Kansas City rooting for my team regardless of the task before them. I ignored the thousands of BoSox fans behind me, I stood strong as the mammoth typhoon known as "Red Sox nation" surged toward the overwhelmed Kansas Royalty. As far as I knew, I would at the very least get the chance to root for my team and watch Sox phenom Jonathon Lester perform, and while I believed that my Royals could overcome the odds, I had no idea what this game would mean in the long run.

No idea, at least, until the Boston Herald reported that Jon Lester was being tested for cancer. If this were true, Lester's career may tragically be cut short and this game may have been one of the very few that he ever got to start.

Of course, this article was merely a cheap way to hook readers and sell newspapers. I say this not only because of the fact that Jon Lester's enlarged Lymph Nodes could mean anything from a minor infection, to cancer or any number of things in between, but also because it surely caused undue stress to thousands of fans, supporters and baseball fans alike. Jon Lester's physical condition is certainly a serious one, but to make the leap into "let's give him a prayer, a coke and a smile" territory is questionable ethics on many levels. He may have been tested for cancer, but this kind of irresponsible reporting is as exaggerated as putting out a news flash reading "BIG GEORGE UNDERGOING TESTS FOR COLON CANCER!!!" every time that Steinbrenner has a colonoscopy.

Never the less, the 'news' does get one thinking about life, death and the big picture of baseball. Do you think somebody who dedicated their life to baseball would complain about their choices if all of those days on the field gave them skin cancer? Do you think that any fan who goes a lifetime without seeing his team win it all really sheds a tear on his death bed? Well, I may not be the oldest person on this site, I may not (hopefully) be near demise, but in my experience, it's the moments we've lived that are important, not the moments that never came to fruition. It's seeing your hero, meeting an icon, or merely having a deep love for your team that gives baseball a real purpose; why shouldn't it be the same way with life?

Of course, life isn't as simple as who you meet or what you witness. Life isn't something you can sum up, no matter how often writers like myself try to make words sound poetic or logical, life will always be neither. Life changes, it sideswipes you often and sometimes it hits you hard. Sometimes horrible things happen - like twenty two year old kids getting cancer before they can even define the word "prime" - sometimes things change for the better. However, if there is one thing that stays constant, it's the ability to rely on yourself. Your instincts will never betray you, so you shouldn't second guess yourself. You shouldn't believe in something or follow someone just because some external source tells you to, you should experience it as your own and find your own way... Which leads me to the question, Are You a Bad Fan?

August was a horrible month for bandwagon fans. The thousands of Chicago White Sox hats that have popped up since last October have mysteriously vanished into the vast sea of Dodger blue that has been laying dormant in the shadows. Now, with Yankee fans coming out of the woodwork, and people saying "oh yeah, I've always loved the Tigers", the question on tap seems to be, "which side are you on?" Are you a "pink hat fan", or are you part of ye olde faithful? The fact is, baseball is about team colors, it's about loyalty and supporting your team through the thickest patches of darkness; the fans are the ones I see wearing BoSox hats, despite their team losing 6 in a row and the "Boston Massacre". The real fans are the ones who stand and fight while their team is hurting, they are the ones who can look to next season and say "damn, this was a hell of a ride! I can't wait 'till next year!"

The hardest part about bandwagon fans is that they infiltrate our homes, our stadiums, our families and our friends. They are like spies, the James Bond's and Sydney Bristow's of the sporting world, and their mission is simple: search for and acquire recognition. They'll always be on the podium, and they'll never feel the heartbreak of defeat because they're sitting comfortably in the motherly arms of limitless success. For this, should we hate them? Perhaps, but remember, once you hate one gaggle of bandwagon fans, you have to be universally against fans like them, family or otherwise.

Yes, bandwagon fans are the plague of sports, but how do we know who is loyal and who is a fan for hire? Well, Check the Stats and I have developed a fool proof system to wade through the crowd and pluck the bandwagon fans from the shadows; we will reveal this system on this Monday's ODC. Until then, what say we stick to one team and just enjoy the ballgames for what they are: poetry in motion. Years from now, we may not remember who won on September first, but I would rather forget that mundane detail than wallow in retrospect, asking myself whether or not I was even a fan on this day.

Stand tall, support your team and above all else, punch any White Sox "fan" who doesn't know who Buck Weaver is.

Cheers,
Jack Jablin