42: A Review

Itching for a great new baseball movie for some time now (Trouble with the Curve certainly didn't do it for me), I was very excited to see 42 last week.  There's no point in providing the plot synopsis for the film: If you don't know Jackie Robinson's story you must have been living underneath a rock for the past 65 years, and that's what makes 42 such a bold and daunting project.  As spectacular as Robinson's tale is, virtually every American knows it by heart, putting pressure on this movie to add a new dimension or layer to one of sports history's greatest true stories.  While 42 did a nice job of covering Robinson's journey from Negro Leaguer to Hall of Famer, it failed to show me a side of the story that I hadn't already heard before.

On one hand, this can be seen as a good thing.  Unlike some other sports movies that over-dramatize the "facts" in order to create a more entertaining story, 42 looked pretty realistic.  Other than Harrison Ford's portrayal of Dodgers owner Branch Rickey (which at times was a bit over-the-top), I thought most of the other characters felt true to life.  On the other hand, however, the film definitely lacked the drama associated with other Rocky-esque sports films that I've come to know and love.  At times 42 screened more like an educational documentary than it does a sports movie, and while there's nothing wrong with that it's worth noting before you enter the theater and expect to be fired up by a movie that feels like Miracle.

We all know that, over time, Jackie Robinson was able to win over the majority of his racist critics and cement himself as one of the greatest and most beloved players in MLB history.  I'm not exactly sure how that transition was made, and 42 didn't really do much to explain it.  If the movie is correct, Robinson played hard enough to pretty easily and rapidly convince his teammates to abandon their deep-rooted racist beliefs and rally behind him.  The movie suggests that even opposing players and managers were quickly and naturally won over by Robinson's athleticism, professionalism and kindheartedness.  While I find the fact that the transition was so smooth hard to believe, it's better than having the film build to some super-cheesy, unrealistic climax. 

Overall, I give 42 a decent but unspectacular rating.  While I certainly enjoyed the film and recommend it to any baseball fan, it didn't truly win me over.  This might be another example of "the grass is always greener," where I'm happy that the movie was true to itself but simultaneously left wanting something a bit more exciting and made for Hollywood.  No matter how I look at it, though, I'm glad I spent the time and money seeing 42, and suggest you all do the same.    

Part of the Healing Process

After tragedy struck the Boston Marathon on Monday afternoon, I had no intention of blogging about it.  While Monday's bombing did occur during a major participatory and spectator sporting event, the sports-related angle seemed petty and insignificant.  As the week went on, however - culminating in an emotional series of events this afternoon at Fenway Park - it became increasingly evident that, even in trying times such as these, sports are far from an afterthought.  As many have noted this week, the events in Boston serve as yet another reminder of how important sports are to our society - as a distraction from the harsh realities of "real life," as a symbol of normalcy during otherwise unbelievable times, and even as a vital part of the post-tragedy healing process.

When the Boston Bruins returned to TD Garden for their game against the Buffalo Sabres earlier this week, I didn't originally think much of it - in fact, I didn't even think to check up on the game until the following morning, when video footage from the contest's national anthem was already all over TV and the internet.  Of course ESPN's SportsCenter carried the footage - the first sporting event in Boston post the bombings was undoubtedly a big story for the nation's largest sports network - but I was shocked to see video from the game on Good Morning America, The Today Show and virtually every other morning news outlet, too.

The trend continued during Friday night's manhunt in Watertown, which caused the postponement of that night's scheduled Red Sox and Bruins games.  I was incredibly surprised to hear the newscasters on both Fox News and CNN comment on what a shame it was that the sporting events were cancelled, since the entire community was looking forward to watching their local teams compete and having something to to take their minds off of the week's surreal events.  Much like the first Giants, Jets, Mets and Yankees games following 9/11, this weekend's Boston sporting events will serve as a reminder of the strength of the city of Boston and the closeness of its community.

Major national events like the Boston Marathon bombing help put life in perspective, and remind us that there's so much more to life than sports.  At the same time, however, it would be wrong to assume that sports have no place in the midst of tragedy.  As this week has shown us, the power of sports should not be underestimated, and no other form of entertainment can bring a city together in quite the same way.  

Through the Plexiglass

Even though I previously covered my experience at Raleigh, NC's PNC Arena (formerly known as the RBC Center), my second trip to the home of the Carolina Hurricanes was certainly unique enough to warrant its own post.  The first time around, I credited RBC for being a well-run, efficient hockey facility inhabited by a great fan base, especially considering that a) the Raleigh-Durham area doesn't have any other professional sports franchises and b) North Carolina isn't what comes to mind when you think about a hockey-loving state.  For my second trip, however, I got to do something that I've never done at an NHL game before - sit in the first row, right behind the glass.  More specifically, as the picture below will attest, I was sitting directly behind one of the nets with a goalie's-eye view.

If you thought the prospect of being an NHL goalie was terrifying before, you need to experience a hockey game from these seats.  The first thing you notice is the pure speed of everything - the puck, the players and even the referees are moving so quickly that losing focus for even a split-second can be catastrophic for a netminder.  The fact that there aren't 10+ goals scored by each team, each game seems incredible to me.  Even more amazing are plays like the save highlighted in the video below, which I had an absolutely perfect view of (if you look closely, you can see me right behind the net in a grey hooded sweatshirt, sitting next to my Dad in a dark green polo).   

I've had the opportunity to sit in the front row for MLB games and courtside for NBA games, but nothing can compare to the wow-factor associated with these rink-side seats directly behind the goal.  Even from other great seats, I've always felt like I was watching a game.  From these seats, however, I could feel an adrenaline rush normally reserved for someone playing in a game.  I found myself adopting a goaltender's mentality, scanning the ice for developing scoring chances and even positioning my own torso to mimic Hurricanes goalie Justin Peters.  When Peters shifted towards his right (like in the photo below, which gives you a great feel for my view), I couldn't help but do the same.

Now I know what an NHL goalie sees during a professional hockey game.

The other incredible thing about sitting right up against the glass was how loud everything was.  The sound of the puck smacking off of the glass on an errant shot consistently made me flinch - although I knew I was completely protected, I couldn't help it.  Every time the players crashed into the boards behind the goal (which happens more often than you might realize while watching the game from a different vantage point), you can hear and feel a thunderous boom that underscores the strength and speed of NHL athletes.  After sitting in these incredible seats at PNC Arena, I honestly think I have a new-found appreciation for the sport of hockey.  With the league (and the Islanders) heading into the playoffs later this month, my timing couldn't have been more perfect.  

Covering the Cards

I'm honestly not trying to be an asshole in this post, but I do want to start out with a caveat: If you're the type of sappy sports fan who wishes that every game ended like a made for TV movie, this post might not be for you.  If you love the way the Olympics cuts away from live event coverage to bring you a story about how some cross-country skier from Slovenia spent a year living in his car, you might want to go back to reading a Rick Reilly article. After all, what I'm about to do is, in most people's minds, worse than criticizing Mother Theresa, Gandhi and Sesame Street combined.  I'm going to criticize the media's coverage of injured Louisville basketball player Kevin Ware.

Kevin Ware's injury was undoubtedly one of the more gruesome things I've witnessed in 20+ years as a sports fan, and I cringe every time I think about the freak accident - not to mention the long path to recovery that awaits Ware as he works to return to high-level college basketball.  That being said, I feel that the coverage of Ware's injury - and of the Louisville team's response to it - has been overblown.  Players suffer significant injuries that require them to miss games all the time.  While Ware's injury was clearly more severe, traumatic and unusual that your typical high ankle sprain, broken wrist or concussion, does the severity of the incident make it any more worthy of extensive press coverage than any of these others?

CBS cut to a shot of Kevin Ware approximately once every 10 seconds (hyperbolic estimate).

The media has talked a lot about how Louisville's national championship victory in Ware's absence signifies that the Cardinals are a "team" in the truest sense of the word.  In reality, though, don't teams in both college and professional sports win in the face of injuries all the time?  There's no doubt that Louisville's ability to roll past Duke, Wichita State and Michigan without the services of a key bench player is impressive - I'm the first to acknowledge that role players are much more critical to a team's success than most star-obsessed fans give them credit for.  But Louisville is far from the first team to have players step up for a fallen colleague.  Granted, most of those fallen colleagues didn't have their bones sticking inches out of their skin - but the fact remains that Ware's injury is different from so many others only in terms of its gruesomeness, not in terms of its significance.

Do I believe that the Louisville players truly like and care about each other?  Sure.  Do I think that's the reason they were able to overcome Ware's injury and defeat Michigan in Atlanta last night?  Not really.  At the end of the day, the Cardinals were 2013's best college basketball team, and a potent combination of guard play (Peyton Siva and Russ Smith), clutch shooting (Luke Hancock) and an inside presence (Gorgui Deng) propelled them to victory.  While I feel for Kevin Ware and wish him the best in his attempt to recover from an injury that I can't even really imagine, to say that the team "won it for Kevin" is a bit much.  Unlike the athletes who have been removed from their sports to battle life-threatening illnesses like cancer and AIDS, Ware will surely recover fully and resume his athletic career.  In an attempt to write a compelling personal story, the media failed to provide enough coverage of the players who actually made the 2013 national championship happen for the Cards - the ones that actually played.

The DH Debate

Despite approaching its three year anniversary (April 23), Caught Looking has never offered its opinion on Major League Baseball's designated hitter. While the existence of the DH in the American League is debated each season during Interleague Play, the All Star Game and the World Series, this year should be particularly heated because it marks the 40th anniversary of the rule change. In honor of the occasion, ESPN recently did a series of pieces on the DH, from Tim Kurkjian's mindless interviewing of a random array of Major Leaguers to Christina Karl's uninspired opinion piece. Now, it's time for me to weigh in - after all, everybody else is doing it!

First, let's set the stage here: The DH debate is one of the most tightly argued in all of sports. While ESPN's SportsNation polls are in no means scientific, they do give us a decent understanding of how the general sports populace feels about a given issue. The recent DH poll, which as of this writing had a meaningful 24,333 responses, say 30% of people say they wanted the DH to remain an AL-only rule, 37% of people say they want the DH abolished altogether, and the remaining 33% say they'd want the DH adopted in the NL, too. Put simply, about a third of people want more DHing, a third want less, and a third want the same amount - not exactly the sort of definitive sentiment you want while assessing a sport-altering potential rule change. But while the total population is on the fence about the DH, it seems like virtually no individual person is split - everyone, myself included, has a strong opinion on the issue.

As a lifelong fan of the National League, it probably won't surprise you to hear that I'm a big anti-DH guy. In addition to being a Braves fan, I also consider myself a student of the game who valued baseball for its strategy - strategy that, in my opinion, is greatly dumbed-down in American League games. I like how Nationals manager Davey Johnson (who has managed in both leagues) put it in the Kurkjian article; talking about NL baseball, Johnson said "when the pitcher is in there, things are on an even keel. There is more strategy in the game; that's a part of baseball. There is more little ball, there are tougher decisions on pitching strategy. It involves your bench more." My favorite part of any NL game is the situation Ned Yost mentions in his quote - that moment when "you have two outs, a man on second, down by a run in the sixth inning, with your pitcher at the plate. Do you hit for him or not?" These are the moments that can make-or-break an MLB 2K13 game, let alone a MLB contest with playoff implications.

I understand that the DH provides a job for defensively-challenged, big-bat types and for aging stars who can no longer play the field. But is it the American League's job to institute a rule change that creates a role for guys that can't play the sport the way it was originally meant to be played? What's more, the majority of teams use the DH slot to rotate position players out of the field, giving them a de facto day off without removing their bat from the lineup. Come World Series time, this could theoretically be a significant advantage for a well-rested AL team over a bruised and battered NL one. As a baseball purist, I cast my SportsNation vote to get rid of the DH altogether. After 40 years of the DH debate, though, I can't say that I can add anything to the conversation that you haven't already heard before.

Come Interleague Play, this man will likely be Atlanta's starting DH.