A Tale of Two Left Fielders: Melky “The Milk Man” Cabrera and Barry Bonds, Part 1

When he got his 51^st hit yesterday, left fielder Melky Cabrera became the second San Francisco Giants to break Willie Mays’ record for most hits in the month of May. Now, he ties Randy Winn’s 2005 record. Mays made his record in 1958.

I was skeptical when I first heard the Giants signed Cabrera, Angel Pagan, and Gregor Blanco. I’m a baseball fan, but I hadn’t heard of Angel Pagan or Gregor Blanco. I’d heard of a M---- Cabrera, but I got him confused with Miguel Cabrera. I thought they were the same person. Ok, it wasn’t quite thinking. Ideas floated around in my brain. Once Cabrera came to the Giants, I started paying more attention and got clear on the Other Cabrera.

After signing Carlos Beltran last season and him coming over and not being the hot hitter that we needed, yes, I was skeptical. However, I noticed from the beginning of the season, Cabrera was hot. I remember thinking: he better be. I was worried about Pagan and Blanco too. Pagan is hitting well right now, but he started off kind of slow. His 20-game hitting streak that followed Pablo Sandoval’s own was a welcome surprise.

I don’t know Melky Cabrera. I have only watched him play all or parts of most games this season and have watched one interview, but I like what I see as a player and person. Even before yesterday’s record-tying and, of course, along the way. He hits and gets on base. He steals. He catches balls. He doesn’t just catch. He runs them down. He dives.

In the interview I saw early in the season, the interviewer asked him how he had made his hits. Cabrera mentioned with the help of God and he was doing his best. The interviewer asked him a few questions and each time Cabrera gave credit to God. I like that he didn’t crow about himself. He has athletic ability and was born with it or developed it and most likely both, but he didn’t puff out his chest and bang it. He deflected the praise. I admit this is a personal taste. Some folks love to pump themselves up and love when other folks do it. Sure, it’s ok to do. I just liked the way Cabrera didn’t this time.

Melky Cabrera is on my mind not only because of passing Mays and tying Winn and deflecting praise. But, he seems to be doing all he can to do the best he can to help his team. Melky is on my mind also because of another left hander who was in the stands and radio and TV booths during a game on Monday, Memorial Day: Barry Bonds.

Next part will be an overview of the other left fielder, Barry Bonds. 

The Way a Man Whistles at a Woman, Part 1

Happy Jackie Robinson Day! On April 15, 1947, Major League Baseball took the first step toward integration. I tip my Giants cap to the Brooklyn Dodgers. I take off my cap to Mr. Robinson for venturing over and the Negro League for playing ball and surviving as long as it did regardless of what the racists did.

Brief update on the 2012 Giants: The Giants came back from that 17-8 loss on Wednesday to the Rockies to win the series and after last night they’re .500. Today, they might even sweep the Pirates. Barry Zito has looked good in his two starts. They’ve only played eight games but it looks like Brian Wilson will be out for the rest of the season. Hold onto your caps, folks!...Oomph, they just lost to the Pirates. According to Meatloaf, two out of three ain’t bad.

When I wrote the following essay in the fall of 2012, I didn’t know what I was going to do with it, if anything. I just felt I had to write it. I didn’t look at it again until last week. Now, I see it as the first posting of Life in the Bleachers. I just wrote it a year and a half early. Since it’s long and I’m overwhelmed with grading at the end of the semester, I’m breaking it into two, maybe three parts. I’ll have to write about Ozzie Guillen’s remarks about Fidel Castro, Tara VanDerveer’s disappearing comments about sexism in sports, Bobby Petrino’s lies of omission/commission, and more after the semester ends.

Part I

Some thoughts about sports and society inspired by "A crowd of 45,929 whistling at Tim Lincecum the way a man whistles at a woman."[1]

I’ve read about the Phillies’ fans whistling at Tim Lincecum in different articles by writers from The Philadelphia Inquirer, Yahoo Sports, NY Times, and the good ol’ SF Chronicle.

Not one writer has mentioned the homophobia or sexism behind the whistles. I’ve read enough sports articles and listened to enough sports radio programs to know why: homophobia and sexism are accepted in sports. Just as they are in the rest of society.

Lincecum’s a man (assumed to be heterosexual). The men (assumed to be heterosexual) in the stadium know he’s a man. The men in the stadium whistled. The photos show them laughing and smiling. I’m sure they winked and nudged each other too: I’m kidding. Kid-ding, bro!

Those men whistling at Lincecum are presumed to be so not gay that they can act gay (my emphasis) and whistle at him. Huh?

“The way a man whistles at a woman.”

You’ve heard it. Growing up, I did every time I passed Hunt’s Donuts. Whistles, Hey mami, Oye, mija. Hey baby. Girls, teenagers, women, grandmothers. Eight to eighty (ok, slight exaggeration) you knew what to expect.

Maybe you’ve whistled at a woman you didn’t know. Maybe you wanted to know her. Maybe you whistled at a man you wanted to meet. It must work. That’s why folks do it, right? Someone out there must like it or no one would do it, right?

For the longest time, I didn’t know it was wrong. Or, I didn’t think it was wrong. I’m sure there are some folks out there who think there is nothing wrong about it. I remember an interview I read with Patrick Swayze. He said he met his wife by slapping her ass. She was walking by. He liked what he saw. He slapped. She laughed. They met, married, and lived happily ever after. I’m glad they had their time together.

I can believe that happened and happens. I understand flirtation between two people doesn’t always appear “right” to outsiders. I know there’s something about chemistry.

I knew I didn’t like getting catcalled, but I didn’t know I could ask—I sure didn’t think I could demand—that the whistles or comments stop.

One day when I was a teenager, one of my uncles came back from a walk and told my mother, “Damn, I went to the store to buy a paper. I saw this pretty dame so I said, ‘Lookin’ good, baby.’ She told me to fuck off.” He was offended or just sounded like it. I was shocked.

Not at him. I knew he said things to women, honked his car horn at women, looked at women through binoculars from second story windows. I grew up around my mother’s five brothers and they all did those things. I don’t think they were the kind of men who slapped unknown women’s behinds or did more invasive stuff. But I’ve seen a lot of guys get real ugly real fast. I’ve seen it too many times. And whoever and wherever you are, you probably have too.

That woman told my uncle to get lost. I remember feeling bad for my uncle. I understood that she didn’t like or appreciate his comment, but he was a good man, a good uncle. I also remember being impressed with that unknown woman.

Tim Lincecum cut his hair four inches recently. On Monday, he faces the Phillies and another two-time Cy Young winner, Roy Halladay. I doubt anyone in the home crowd will hoot at Lincecum “like a man [does to] a woman.” Hopefully, no one will do it to Halladay either. If someone does, I hope someone else—anyone—calls the person out.

I believe baseball—and all sports—can be played competitively without demeaning the opposition. I believe we can live in society without demeaning women. I know we’ve made progress—today is Jackie Robinson Day and all the players on all the teams are wearing #42!—I also know we still have a long way to go. In the meantime, I’ll be in the bleachers grading papers.

In Part II, I’ll look at football again.

---

[1] http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/10/16/SPJJ1FTS5P.DTL

Play Ball!

Dedicated to my Relatives throughout the Land who are watching or listening to The Game with a Pepsi, (often these days a Coke), Bud (used to be Oly), or a glass of water. And Uncle Tony and the rest who have the Sky View.

The day many folks and I have been looking forward to has arrived! I won't be in the stands this evening at 5 pm Mountain time, but I've been online this morning scoping tickets for when I go home in June. Hmmm. Texas Rangers or Houston Astros? Of course, the Rangers for the 2010 World Series rematch! But, there's a world of difference in price between the two teams from the Lone Star state. Time to count the pennies and figure that all out later.

More importantly, here then is the projected Giants lineup for today according to The San Francisco Chronicle's online site:

1. Pagan CF
2. Cabrera RF
3. Sandoval 3B
4. Posey C
5. Huff LF
6. Belt 1B
7. Crawford SS
8. Theriot 2B
9. Lincecum P

Posey’s back! Back walking, suiting up, and playing. Huge. Last May, when he got injured—and how he got injured! Oh, that was rough Cousins crashing into him was debilitating to him physically and the rest of us emotionally, psychically. Doom and gloom!

Then Brandon Crawford showed up and in his first major league hit belted a grand slam! Maybe things were going to be ok. Things were ok but just ok.

Freddy Sanchez—how many doubles in that World Series game? 2? 3? 4?—slammed his shoulder in June. These injuries were after Pablo Sandoval’s wrist that knocked him out of the lineup until mid-June. The Giants didn’t repeat. They didn’t even win the National League West. 

Back to today and three new (to the Giants) guys: Angel Pagan, Melky Cabrera, and Ryan Theriot. Word is they’re fast guys. I watched part of a few Spring Training games—I’m not on summer vacation yet—and I saw one of them steal. Yes, I don’t know who it was and I couldn’t tell them apart today, but I will. It’s Opening Day. Give me a couple more games.

The game just started. Pagan made an out. Cabrera hit a double. That’s why they money guys brought him over. Panda hit a shot to deep right and Cabrera tagged up and went to third. Posey flied out. 

I wanted to post before the Dbacks hit and now their first batter got on base. Let’s go Gi-Ants!

Okay, I posted before the Diamondbacks scored, but Chris Young has just hit a homerun. 2-0, Arizona. I thought it'd be tacky if I didn't acknowledge the first homer of the season between these two teams. 

Thoughts of going to watch the Giants when they travel to Arizona just flashed through my mind again. I have to remember that I’m boycotting the state. I’m on a budget. I don’t just have a budget, but I’m sticking to it. Finally.

Lincecum just got his first out. A strikeout. Go Timmy! Tim! Lincecum! I gotta put on my Lincecum jersey that my cousins Joanna and Victor gave me last year after visiting. Now, the cap I bought with the San Francisco skyline. I hate to be materialistic…

 

Another Dback homer. Time to take off the cap, unbutton the jersey. I’ve been saved from my die-hard materialist ways. It’s gonna be a long game. Long season? 

Pitching Coach Dave Righetti has gone out to talk to Lincecum. He ends with a strikeout. Shake it off, Tim. Ok, I don’t want to do a play-by-play. Besides, I know I’ve already missed a few plays. Catch you later. I’m heading back to the bleachers.

Football, Sexual (And Other) Violence, and Homophobia - Part IV

Publicity around Esera Tuaolo didn’t end there. In June of 2010, Tuaolo was arrested for domestic assault. He was supposed to have a hearing in August of 2011. I didn’t find any stories on the internet about his hearing. At the time of his arrest, he said, “This is a private situation that has gotten blown out of proportion by the media.” Tuaolo's response reminds me of another story about another powerful person.

My hometown’s recently elected and newly sworn-in sheriff [when I first drafted this he was still sheriff], Ross Mirkarimi said the domestic violence case against him was “a private matter, a family matter." A matter between his wife, Eliana Lopez--who went to a neighbor and recorded a video of the bruise/bruises on her arm and sent text messages about the incident--and himself. 

Domestic violence advocates responded by fundraising for a billboard to be placed near the Hall of Justice, home of the sheriff's office, that says:

Domestic Violence is NEVER a private matter.

Ross Mirkarimi claimed he was innocent. His wife refused to testify against him. Right before his case went to trial, he pled guilty to one charge. (He later said he wasn't guilty and that he only pled to stop the turmoil.) Mayor Ed Lee asked him to resign. Mirkarimi refused, and the mayor suspended him without pay for misconduct. Mirkarimi has chosen to fight for his job. Lopez, his wife, has taken her / their son and gone to Venezuela to visit her ailing father. When she went to her neighbor's house, Lopez had told her that Mirkarimi wouldn't allow her to take her son home with her. 

In one of the blogs that I follow, And Yet, I'm Still Single, Andrea Serrano writes about her experience with Intimate Partner Violence in the blog post titled "Part Two, Bullied." It's clear, insightful, solid writing about one woman’s experience. In the previous post, she soberly writes, "I am an outspoken Chicana Feminist who worked as a Community Educator specializing in violence prevention" and "violence can happen in any relationship, regardless of sexuality or gender."

Intimate Partner Violence. I haven't been happy with the term Domestic Violence because it sounds too...domestic, civil...and not grounded. Intimate Partner Violence doesn't completely satisfy me, but at least the focus is on the relationship between the people involved. Hopefully, one day we'll have a term that captures the violence, the violations that occur. Better yet, hopefully, one day we won't need the term.

I hope Esera’s partner is fine. I hope Esera is. I wish their family the best. 

I think Mirkarimi should have resigned. Since he didn't, I agree with Lee's decision to suspend him. I hope the Board of Supervisors don't allow him to return to his position. 

Serrano is writing and sharing her story and living and healing.
 
The SF Chronicle quotes Perrish Cox as saying, “That’s not me. I’m not that type of guy.” 

I hope he wasn’t and he’s not. I hope he’s learned more than the benefits of a good defense attorney. But he carried an unconscious woman to a bed with another man in it. The man says he left the bed. The woman had a child that is 99% sure to be Cox's. I hope the woman and her child are safe now. I hope they all heal.

I can’t write "Everyone lived happily ever after." All I know is as long as we're living, we have a chance to do better next time...and I’ll keep exploring from the bleachers.

Adrienne Rich, 1929-2012

Adrienne Rich died this week. I’ve read very little of her work. Still, I feel her loss. As little as I knew her work and I didn't know her, I know she was important to women important to me. Women I respect and care about even the many whose names I don’t know. 

I read that in 1974 when she won the National Book Award, she accepted it with Alice Walker and Audre Lorde, two Black women, one a self-identified lesbian. They accepted the award for all women. 

Later, according to The New York Times,

In 1997, in a widely reported act, Ms. Rich declined the National Medal of Arts, the United States government’s highest award bestowed upon artists. In a letter to Jane Alexander, then chairwoman of the National Endowment for the Arts, which administers the award, she expressed her dismay, amid the “increasingly brutal impact of racial and economic injustice,” that the government had chosen to honor “a few token artists while the people at large are so dishonored.”

I feel a heaviness. A sadness at the loss of such a writer, such a woman.

I feel like I’m making progress on my writing then I’m humbled. I know it's not a bad thing. 

Thank you, Adrienne, for all you did, for all you wrote. 

16 May 1929 - 27 March 2012

Football, Sexual (And Other) Violence, and Homophobia - Part III

The Trayvon Martin case has been filling the headlines. Trayvon Martin, 17 years old, was killed by George Zimmerman, member of a community watch, after police told him to leave Martin alone. Something about Florida's "Stand Your Ground" law. It came out that Zimemrman was not a member of that community's watch. This week, the news is that Martin had been suspended from school for having a baggie--kids still use those?--of trace amounts of weed. Now, word is out that Martin attacked Zimmerman and Zimmerman shot Martin trying to defend himself. To paraphrase what Martin's mother said, First, they killed my son; now, they're trying to kill his character. 

What else will come out? When will Zimmerman be arrested? Or even questioned? When will his gun and clothes be examined? This tragedy--aren't tragedies supposed to be inevitable?--has ended with one life taken. I worry that the toll will not end there. Partly because of all the events that led to this point. There is more to ask and say about this case, but for this blog, I just want to make one side note: Thirteen members of the Miami Heat wore hoodies for a photo. Athletes taking a political stand! Wow.  

Back to the series...     
 
According to Esera Tuaolo’s website: he played in the National Football League for 9 years. He was drafted by the Green Bay Packers in 1991 (second round 35th pick), the highest Defensive Linemen ever taken in Packer history at that time. Esera also was the first rookie to start all 16 games his rookie year in NFL history. He earned a spot on the All Rookie team in 1991.

Garrison Hearst and Jeremy Shockey didn’t want him—a 280-pound nose tackle who could run a 40 in 4.8--in their locker room? Or on their team? (Okay, they weren’t speaking of Esera specifically…)

Crazy!

Jim Buzinski of outsports.com quotes one player as saying, "I really don't see it as being that big a deal," Carolina Panthers left tackle Todd Steussie, who played with Tuaolo in Minnesota from 1994 to 1996, told the Rock Hill (S.C.) Herald. "It might make some people uncomfortable, but to me it's a non-issue." Back to the first hand or stuck somewhere between the two, Buzinski quotes another player saying he loves Tuaolo like a brother and even though God forbids it “we can be friends.”

Like Esera, I found Dave Kopay, the first former NFL player, to come out. Somehow I ran across his name. It was so long ago I think it was before I came out to myself. I might have still been in high school or early college. I knew I was more than casually interested in the Dave Kopay story, but I couldn’t admit to myself why.

Writing this post, I found out about Roy Simmons and Gerald “Jerry” Sandford Smith and looked for information them. Dave Kopay said smith and he had an affair when they were teammates.  Smith died of AIDS; he acknowledged having AIDS but not being gay. Simmons wrote a book that www.outsports.com calls a “searing and brutally honest account of a player who wrestled with his sexuality and drug abuse.” When I looked for the book in my library’s system, this title appeared: Out of Bounds: Inside the NBA’s Culture of Rape, Violence, and Crime.

Back to the violence off the field, court, etc.

I know that whatever happens in sports happens in society. I’ll explore why we outsiders, spectators, folks in the bleachers look at sports as if it weren’t a microcosm of society.

Recently, the 49ers signed Randy Moss. He’s supposed to be moody, disruptive, divisive, and whatever term team executives and reporters use to describe players who don’t go along with the program. 

I don’t know why besides addiction to capitalism that I get so invested in a team of men who earn lots of money to play a game to win a silver football on a stand. What do I care? What does this have to do with freedom and equal rights for me, other women, other queers? What does it have to do with anyone's freedom?

Then I remember being 15 or 16 years old and the 49ers won their first Super Bowl. That silver football on a stand meant so much. Actually, all the games leading up to that game like The Catch.

I’d like to end this post on a happy note, in an article in ESPN Magazine, Esera says:
“I live with a partner, Mitchell, I have loved for six years, and we have beautiful 23-month-old twins -- Mitchell and Michele -- we've adopted and are raising together. Got a house in the suburbs (of Minneapolis) and a lawn and two dogs. I've recorded two pop albums. I'm just your typical gay Samoan ex-nose tackle who'd like to break into show biz.” 

You can hear Tuaolo singing "Imagine" on his website. His voice is as sweet as his smile. 

Football, Sexual (and Other) Violence, and Homophobia Part II

The Cox signing left the headlines quickly. The 49ers stealthily entered the signing war for Peyton Manning and that headline eclipsed all others for the past week. Alex Smith worked out for the Dolphins, but they signed another quarterback. Manning chose the Denver Broncos. Now, the Niners and Smith look suitable for each other once again. There is speculation about how serious any of the pursued and pursuers really when they took each other out for a spin. Maybe the 49ers really and truly wanted Manning. They must have to have risked Smith. Though, really, how much risk was there? The Niners went after a proven quarterback--before the most recent surgeries--and got rid of Cox headlines.  And my series continues...
 
I only read about the Cox case in online newspaper and TV news stories. He was acquitted. I can’t say he’s guilty. It’s really hard to understand how he says he didn’t have sex with her and she does not remember having sex with him and she ended up pregnant. I know the legal system doesn’t always work for anyone—accused and victim. All I know is it’s complicated. Writing that feels like a copout. I copped out a long time ago.

When I read the article about Cox months—a year? year and a half?—ago, I'm sure I felt bad for the woman. I feel bad and angry any time anyone is sexually assaulted. I feel bad when anyone is assaulted in any way. I’m sure I also felt relief that he wasn't on My Team. 

I'm sure as I felt my relief that since he wasn’t on My Team, he wasn’t My Problem. I could watch My Team and have no problems.

I’m sure I couldn’t completely mask my nervousness. These stories. The ones where your favorite player or a player on your favorite team does something wrong that it knocks you out of your love affair with them.

I was knocked out of love with a Giants pitcher accused of domestic violence. Okay, I didn’t love him, but he was on the team. I for sure didn’t like him when the domestic violence charges came. He’s not on the team anymore, but while he was I isolated my hatred for him from my feelings for the rest of the team. Denial works in many ways.

By the way, domestic never sounds domestic when it is paired with violence because VIOLENCE IS NOT DOMESTIC. It’s not civil, nice, appropriate.
I was knocked out of love in 2002 when Garrison Hearst made his derogatory remark about queers. I use the word queers. He used the word faggot. According to www.outsports.com who got it from The Fresno Bee (I didn’t go back to the original article because they’re now charging a fee), Hearst said:
“Aww, hell no! I don't want any faggots on my team. I know this might not be what people want to hear, but that's a punk. I don't want any faggots in this locker room.”

I hated Hearst. I hated myself for ever liking him. I hated myself for being a fool. Why was I, a woman, a lesbian, a politically conscious Chicana lesbian rooting for this man. He hated me. Hearst never used the word hate and he didn’t mention my name. He was talking about gay men. I can only wonder what he would say about a lesbian in his locker room. 

What is or was his reason for not wanting a gay man in his locker room? It seems obvious that he feared the stereotype of gay men—that they’ll attack straight men. Ultimately, he issued one of those apologies that sound forced.
I felt sad. I thought we were friends. Not friends-friends but fan-player friend. You know, I would buy him a drink if he ever came into the bar. Or, I’d ask for his autograph if I ever ran into him…at the bar. I don’t go to bars often, but that’s the only place I can imagine running into a Forty Niner or any professional athlete. I would have bought him a drink. Or, I would have inconspicuously stared and fantasized about buying him a drink. If he dropped into the bar when my uncles were there, they would have bought him a drink! Or, inconspicuously stared and fantasized about buying him a drink.

Garrison told the world we're not friends. He joined Jeremy Shockey who said he hoped there were no gay players in the NFL. Hearst and Shockey were responding to former NFL player Esera Tuaolo coming out. Yes, out as in GAY!
Read the next post about 4, yes, FOUR former NFL players. I think you'll be more surprised than you might expect.