American Author
While operating at my work-station, scanning statistics in an effort to materialize some cutting-edge content for whatever show I was helping out on, my manager called me over to his desk. Expecting the impending discussion to be an ordinary one, I wandered over in conventional fashion. Had I known what was about to be divulged, I would have added a bit more pep in my step.
2006: In 4th grade, my classmates and I were required to complete a writing assignment on a subject of our choice. With my Duke basketball fandom at an all-time high, my selection was obvious. As you’ll find in the image below, I opted to write about the best college basketball player I had ever seen, JJ Redick.
On Some Beautiful Summer Day in the Mid 2000s: Eyeing the family printer with enthusiasm, I watched as my crisp, requested sheet slid from out below. Published on the white piece of paper was an official bracket of the College World Series.
In the conversation for coolest trophy in sports, the bronze figurine of a stiff-arming, able-bodied football player is like no other. Though short in stature (13.5 inches tall), and light on its feet (about 25 pounds), the essence of the Heisman Trophy transcends its slight frame. While it’s a great debate, as the Stanley Cup, Vince Lombardi Trophy, and Commissioner’s Trophy are all beautiful entities, there’s just something about the Heisman that rises it above the pack. If I were to pinpoint its preeminence in comparison to the field, I would say that the sensed grit and overall toughness in the heart of the gridiron star is what puts it over the top.
Having grown up 30 minutes outside of the legendary, squeaky-seated, Fenway Park, I was more than spoiled with the access I had to baseball’s most fabled diamond. Over the years, while in attendance at the quirky, and ever-so-dated playing ground, I’ve been able to witness some incredible talent. As a baseball junkie, any time a historic player made his way to Boston, I would do whatever I could to make sure I reserved one of those comfortless chairs in the crowd.
Continue reading “Jeremy’s Journal: Baseball Royalty (6/26/2018)”
It was a frosty afternoon in Chestnut Hill, MA. With white flakes parachuting from the sky, and the temperate below freezing, Duke’s militant-minded head coach, the legendary Mike Krzyzewski, prepared his soldiers in black and blue for a December matchup against an in-conference opponent, Boston College.
Continue reading “Jeremy’s Journal: Unranked Boston College Upsets #1 Duke (12/9/17)”
“Hornsby is the first player on the field, the last one off,” said St. Louis Cardinals manager, Branch Rickey, when speaking on his star second basemen in an interview with sports editor, Billy Evans, at the top of the 1923 MLB season. Mind you, the man receiving praise for his impeccable work ethic, had just wrapped up a season where he won the National League Triple Crown, and set the league’s new single-season home run record . Along with leading the NL in batting average (.410), home runs (42), and RBI (152), Hornsby, for the third-straight year, ranked first in all of the following categories: hits, doubles, on-base percentage, slugging percentage, and total bases. Simply put, he was the face of the NL, and had Babe Ruth not existed, would have been the poster child for the best ballplayer of the 1920s.
When Babe Ruth destroyed his own single-season home run record by clubbing 54 longballs in 1920, eclipsing his previous-high of 29, which was set the year prior, The Sultan of Swat was truly in a league of his own. Runner-up to The Babe in homers that year was George Sisler, who hit just 19. 35 home runs less than Ruth. An unimageable stretch of separation between first and second. Because of this divergence, Ruth was perceived by all those around as a flat-out anomaly. A once-in-a-generation type of slugger whose physical strength was believed to be more aligned with divine entities than it was to mortal humans.
Despite its absence of a Major League ballclub, South Carolina, nicknamed the Palmetto State, has, since the inauguration of MLB, managed to field its fair share of professional ballplayers. Some, who stuck around The Show for just a cup of coffee, and others who went on to have Hall of Fame careers. Yet, when analyzing the state’s healthy mix of talent over the course of the last 130 odd years, one name in particular rises above the rest. In the history of the sport, no South Carolina-born batter has complied more triples than this big leaguer. When it comes to batting average, on-base percentage, and slugging percentage, amongst those from South Carolina with at least 1,000 plate appearances, this man ranks atop in all three major statistics. Putting his roots aside, in comparison with rest of the world, of the 20,000+ players who have stepped on a big-league field, he’s the only person in Major League Baseball history who, on three separate occasions, finished a year with at least 40 doubles, and 20 triples. A versatile hitter who could do it all, the ballplayer I’m referring to is, none other than, the legendary, Joe Jackson. A man often referred to by the public as “Shoeless Joe”.
“Most ballplayers are superstitious…I have no special sign. But I just knew that if luck had been against me in my losing games it was time for it to favor me.”