Month: April 2015

Party Like It’s 1986

Posted on by DylanHornik

Wow.

A mere 16 games into the season, the New York Mets have already done something, pardon my baseball pun, completely out of left field. But not in the normal “Mets” fashion. The team has drastically exceeded expectations, tying a franchise record with 11 consecutive wins en route to a 13-3 start heading into the annual Subway Series against the Yankees. Even with the losses of Zack Wheeler, then  captain David Wright, then eventually Travis D’Arnaud and Jerry Blevins, the Mets have found a way to scratch out tough wins. To many fans of older generations, this team parallels the 1986 version that won 108 games and eventually the second (and most recent) World Series title in team history. For the fans of my generation, we haven’t really been exposed to the wonders of the mid 80’s in Flushing..until now. So put on your track suits, pop your collars, and put some Rick Astley in your Walkman, because we’re taking it back to 1986.

Obviously, the strength of this year’s team is the starting pitching. Colon, deGrom, Harvey, Niese, Gee…and that’s without Zack Wheeler, who underwent Tommy John surgery. Entering tonight, the Mets are 2nd in the MLB in team era at 2.81. Back in ’86, the team finished the regular season with an astounding 3.11 ERA that led the MLB. That team had the dynamite young rotation of Dwight Gooden, Ron Darling, Bob Ojeda, Sid Fernandez, and Rick Aguilera. Ojeda was the elder statesman of the group at 28 (only 28!). From left: Darling, Gooden, Ojeda, and Fernandez.

While the 2015 team has the Ageless Wonder, Bartolo Colon, leading the way at 41, the rest of the rotation is 28 or younger. Both teams have a young stud who throws hard with devastating off-speed, which can ultimately translate to Cy Young potential in Gooden and Harvey. The two teams also have a guy who didn’t pitch until later in their college careers and had unexpected success early in the pros- Darling and deGrom.

The bullpens are also scarily similar as well. Jesse Orosco was a dominant lefty that came into games and stopped rallies in their tracks. Sounds an awful lot like (the now-injured) Jerry Blevins, doesn’t it? The 9th inning was shut down by a combination of Orosco and Roger McDowell, who had 20 saves each. Right now, Jeurys Familia is lights out in the final inning, but Jenrry Mejia could split that role with him once he returns from an 80 game suspension. Jesse Orosco was so effective, he pitched until his mid-40’s.

Pitching isn’t the only link between these two teams. In ’86, Gary Carter produced well from the catcher position, hitting 24 homers and driving in 105 runs. At the time of his injury, young buck Travis D’Arnaud was on fire, hitting .317 with 10 RBI in 11 games. He did fracture his finger, but his replacement Kevin Plawecki, another young catcher, went 2-for-4 in his MLB debut. Catching is a theme among good teams; the stability that it provides to both offense and defense is vital.

The outfield on the World Championship team was comprised of four main guys: Darryl Strawberry, Lenny Dykstra, and Mookie Wilson. “Straw” could mash; he knocked out 27 homers to lead the team. Dykstra could flat out hit, and he finished the 1986 campaign with a .295 average. Wilson was known for his hustle, his speed, and his determination. This combination led to a dynamic effect on the rest of the team.

The 2015 edition of the Mets uses the outfield of Michael Cuddyer, Juan Lagares, and Curtis Granderson. It’s not an exact match like the other comparisons, but it’s still reminiscent. Cuddyer is a hitter, having won the 2013 NL batting title with the Rockies. Granderson has been known for his pop due to his back-to-back 40 home run seasons with the Yankees, but hasn’t quite shown it in Flushing. He still can get on base and start rallies. Then there’s Lagares, the Gold Glove winning center fielder. He is a sparkplug in the outfield, routinely making tough catches using his speed and athleticism. His drive to be better lights a fire under the rest of the team as well.

Juan Lagares is, often times, a catalyst for this team.

Finally, what would a Mets team be without a veteran to lead at third base? In ’86, Ray Knight was that guy. He hit .298 and, more importantly, knew how to play the game and how to lead a team at the age of 33. At age 32, David Wright is the captain and unquestioned leader of the 2015 team. He isn’t projected to be as productive as he has been in years past, but he doesn’t need to be, like Knight, because of the key players around him that have stepped up. This year, it’s been a multitude of guys, including Cuddyer, Lucas Duda, at times Lagares, and even the shortstop Wilmer Flores. In 1986, it was Strawberry, Keith Hernandez, and Carter.

I’m not implying that the 2015 Mets are going to win 110 games. I’m simply putting the MLB, and Mets fans, on notice, that there’s something different about this team. They play with passion, with heart, and with what I like to call “Mets Moxie”. Towards the end of a game, the bullpen grinds it out, the offense gets timely hits and, at least for the first month of the year, it culminates in a win.

Playoffs!?

Posted on by DylanHornik

The sweet smell of….ice. The wonderful sound of….teeth being knocked out. The awe-inspiring sight of….a fistfight. These are the things that partly comprise the great sport of hockey. It doesn’t sound great, but come mid-April every year America is lit on fire with Hockey Fever. The final two weeks of the regular season shake down, and we enter perhaps the most exciting postseason play in any of the four major sports. Only the true fans watch the regular season, but even the most casual fan brings out their sweater to watch their team try to capture Lord Stanley’s Cup. But why? Why does everyone drop what they’re doing to watch what could be mistaken for Soviet Russia On Ice? Why did last year’s Finals average 5 million viewers a game when it was only two cities? Well, since Y is a crooked letter that can’t be straightened, maybe it’s time for some answers. Alexander Ovechkin, leading goal scorer in the NHL, and owner of one-too-few teeth.

Hockey is terribly brutish. This is the only league besides the NFL where hitting is not only allowed, but is vital to the game, and hits are actually kept track of. Fistfights are common on the ice, and as the crowd cheers, the referees let it go on even longer. The best thing about hitting in hockey is that they’re called “checks”, like a player is making sure that no one else is doing something wrong. Hipchecks, bodychecks, shoulder checks, forechecks, backchecks, crosschecks, bank checks. Just kidding on the last one, but watching nasty hits in hockey is just plain awesome. Which is partly why we as a race love and are drawn to hockey;  the brutality of it is human nature. Since the dawn of time, we’ve had to beat our prey in order to kill, eat, and survive. Many studies show that if placed back into the wild, a group of humans would resort back to this savagery (just read Lord of the Flies). The crunching and smashing in hockey tugs at some of our most guttural strings; those same ones that tie us back to nature. We love hockey partly because it reminds us of our natural state.

Hockey is also accessible. Almost every playoff game can be seen anywhere on some sort of major network. If you want to get a taste of your first hockey game on TV, it’s no problem. If you want to get your first crack at a live game, it’s not hard either. The cheapest tickets for a playoff game at Nassau Coliseum are around $100, and as the game gets closer, the team wants to sell them, so the price generally goes down. There have been times during the season where I have gotten tickets as cheap as $10. If you can’t afford a hundred bucks to go to a playoff game, stay home, turn on MSNBC, and enjoy. Maybe you want to try your hand at playing. No problem. Online, beginner’s hockey nets sell for as low as $30 brand new. A hockey stick costs $20, and if you’re playing in the street, a single street hockey ball is around 2 bucks. Not bad, considering getting started in baseball, our national pastime, costs well over $100. Hockey is economical and easily accessed by everyone.

Total estimated cost of hockey equipment in this picture: $130. Total cost of an Easton Mako Youth Baseball Bat: $250-$300.

Lastly, hockey is exciting. The nature of the game is fast-paced, with the fastest players racing down the ice at almost 30 miles an hour. A regulation NHL hockey rink is 200 feet long by 85 feet wide, much shorter than a 100 yard football field or a baseball field that can reach 410 feet to dead center field. This, obviously, leads to faster gameplay and more possession changes. Pucks are shot upwards of 90 miles an hour, so even down the the nuance of the game is fast. If there’s 20 seconds left in a game, you can’t just run out the clock, like in basketball or football, because if you just stand there with the puck someone is going to steal it and score, and you will feel like an absolute jerk. Playoffs are even more exciting than just a plain ol’ game of hockey, too. The 2013-14 opening rounds led to more lead changes than ever before. The LA Kings, down in the series 3-0 to the San Jose Sharks, came all the way back to win the series 4 games to 3, and ultimately were crowned champions of the NHL. The New York Rangers, who the Kings beat last year, played two seven-game series in their first two rounds of the playoffs. In total, 93 playoff games were played last year, breaking the previous mark of 92 set in 1991. There is never a boring moment in hockey, and there are plenty of moments to be had.

Whether you’re rooting for the Islanders, Rangers, Penguins, or Blackhawks this spring, just remember that this great game that the nation latches on to every year is something special. There isn’t a sport in the world where you need skills and smarts quite like you do to play hockey, let alone understand it enough to watch the game and scream at the television in support of your favorite team.

My Story

Posted on by DylanHornik

Growing up in suburban New York, there was only one divisive subject in an otherwise extraordinarily homogeneous area. That was sports. My community was decidedly more Yankee-friendly than Mets-loving. We were more even split when it came to Jets or Giants. There was no other professional basketball team in New York other than the Knicks, so the large majority cheered for the team that played in Manhattan (although I did lead a rebel tribe that rooted for the Celtics in secret). Even in my own home, there was a bit of a divide. My father, from whom I get much of my fanaticism, and I rooted wholeheartedly for the Mets, while my sister took the easy way out and adored the Yankees after her first grade teacher confessed her love for the pinstripes.

I took sides in the lunch debates for years, but I admit that I never really knew what I was talking about. As a quiet kid growing up, I always let the loud talkers, those gifted early with the ability to speak up for themselves, drive the debates, and backed up their opinions with an timid, half-scared head shake.

Then, 2006 came. I was at the tail-end of my 3rd grade year (with perhaps my favorite teacher ever, but that doesn’t matter). What matters is that I finally convinced my mom that baseball isn’t dangerous and I finally got the opportunity to play. Naturally when I started playing, I watched more baseball to see how the pros do it. I tried to model my swing after the dangerous first baseman Carlos Delgado, then scrapped that idea when my coach gave me strange looks during my first BP session. He, along with my dad, taught me to keep my bat flat to get it through the zone quicker, to not move as much so I’m not off balance, and to keep my eye on the ball. My coach was one of the best minds for young ballplayers I’ve ever met, and since he has a son my age, I have been able to consult him throughout my playing career.

My not-so-meteoric rise to being a decent ballplayer in ’06 coincided with the meteoric rise of the Mets. Led by the offensive prowess of a young David Wright and by the precision pitching of a 40 year old Tom Glavine, the team won the NL East and rolled into the NLCS, where they ultimately lost.

The core of the '06 Mets, david Wright and Jose Reyes.

The core of the ’06 Mets, david Wright and Jose Reyes.

I was disappointed by the finish of the Mets (thanks, Adam Wainwright), but my little league team won the title, and I was encouraged to sign up for football, coached by the same man that ushered me through my rookie year in baseball. Football was a rough season for me in the fall of ’06. The team finished under .500, and I was used sparingly as a short, scrawny tight end. The team I chose to follow, the Jets, fared far better, winning 10 games with rookie coach Eric Mangini, and making the playoffs as an upstart team.

Me in my rookie year of football.

Me in my rookie year of football.

After 2006, I was hooked. Playing the games helped me understand them better when watching, and I was finally making my own opinions on certain subjects. I didn’t like Chad Pennington as a quarterback (overrated), I loved Billy Wagner (it was a lefty connection), and I thought that Beltran could’ve hit that Wainwright curveball in the NLCS (upon further review, maybe not).

I think watching the pros helped me be a better ballplayer. I broke through in my second seasons in both sports, establishing myself as a force at the plate with tremendous speed, a good fielding first baseman, and an above average arm on the mound. On the gridiron, I switched to center and emerged as the most consistent player on a county champion 10 year old team. After finding success, my love for sports only grew.

Circa 2008, during a Little League game.

Circa 2008, during a Little League game.

Middle school was strange for me. By then, I was a Madden playing, Sportscenter watching junkie. I suffered my first injury, a broken thumb during 6th grade football, and felt what it was like to watch from the sidelines. It was difficult, but it was fun for me to watch the game develop from afar. I decided there that baseball was a better path for me, and after a brief comeback in 7th grade, hung up the football cleats forever. Football remains a favorite for me because of the variables involved with needing 11 men to be on the same page and to do their job perfectly each play.

I got cut from the baseball team in 7th grade. I was heartbroken. I gave it my all in tryouts, everyone said  I was a lock to make it, and I came up short. It pained me to listen to my closest friends talk about something funny that happened in practice, or how well the team played in a game. I had little league, but I outgrew it; I felt too mature to play on the little fields. My final year in little league was the year that Josh Hamilton made his MVP comeback in astonishing fashion. Most of my teammates were well versed in the art of baseball, and the chatter was rampant during the games we played.

7th grade, at a tournament in Cooperstown, NY. Homered on this pitch.

7th grade, at a tournament in Cooperstown, NY. Homered on this pitch.

It never really occurred to me that I could talk about sports for a living until high school. By then, I had “burned out” of playing; I was more interested in the storylines that came with the performance of my peers. I would frequently give reports on my high school team to my dad, who either patronized me or was genuinely interested in why so-and-so was overrated or unfairly benched. In 11th grade, my varsity baseball team was a state semi-finalist, but my role was no more than pinch running outfielder. My life revolved around sports jargon; calling people by strange nicknames and turning everything into a home run analogy was commonplace. I decided to step away from the dugout my senior year, and focusing on honing my sports writing skills to get a leg up before I enrolled in college. I still follow my varsity team (my best friend is the catcher) and I do miss it. But the ball finally left the park on my playing career.

The teams I loved were inconsistent (hence “The Underdog), but one simple fact remained: I loved them, and I loved the sports.

The final sports team I played on. The Long Island Champion, state semi-finalist West Islip Varsity Baseball Team.

The final sports team I played on. The Long Island Champions, and state semi-finalists.

Why did I choose sports? At first, it was to fit in. But I found that the competitive nature of the sports world took hold of me, and it came so naturally to me. Once I realized this natural ability to understand complex games, I went with it. There’s something so majestic about sports, something that pleases all senses. The “crack” of a wood bat, the view of a perfect touchdown pass, the feel of a perfectly inflated basketball in your hands, and who could forget the taste of a ballpark hotdog or the smell of freshly cut grass.

More importantly, the games we love have given me memories that I will not forget. I watched Barry Bonds’s record breaking home run on vacation with my dad. I saw an unassisted triple play with my step dad, live. The countless hours talking sports with my best friends during sleepovers. And, of course, I can still hear my first baseball coach, inspiring me to continue to play the best games in the world.

The Garden of Quandary

Posted on by DylanHornik

You saw it coming, didn’t you?

Couldn’t you tell at the beginning of the season that, as we close in on the end of another NBA regular season, the Knicks would have the worst record in the NBA- by a considerable margin? No? Well, neither did I.

Pundits, fanatics, and even casual fans expected the Knicks to underperform this year, as they always do. But there was a sense of optimism all the way back in the fall when Phil Jackson was the freshly crowned president, Derek Fisher was the bright young head coach, fresh off of his final year as a player, and Carmelo Anthony and Amar’e Stoudemire were both healthy together. Then something unforeseen happened. Something that not even Jackson’s spectacles could see coming. Something not even matched by the Isaiah Thomas-led Knicks.

The “Zen Master”, Phil Jackson, has taken the Knicks team to a place where no one thought they would go-the cellar of the Eastern Conference.

They started out really, really badly. And they are finishing really, really badly. Like, worst-Knicks-ever badly. Currently, they are sitting at 14-61, far below what even the worst critics thought. Stoudemire was bough out, Anthony was hurt, and whatever was left of the fan base essentially forced themselves to cheer for a Langston Galloway 3 or Andrea Bargnani dropping 20. Everyone that knows of the plight of the 2015 Knicks knows that it’s been rough. But everyone is now hopeful, cheering for one day to come like they cheer for Galloway and Bargnani: Draft Day.

While it’s not certain that the Knicks will get the top pick due to the infuriatingly baffling and awkward NBA Draft Lottery, almost everyone can be assured that the team will get at least a decent pick in the upcoming draft. Jackson, in anticipation of a top-5 pick, has gone to numerous college practices to scout players such as Karl Anthony Towns from Kentucky, Jahlil Okafor from Duke, and D’Angelo Russell from Ohio State. While I hate to be the bearer of bad news, getting one top-5 pick in this year’s draft isn’t going to solve all of the problems for Jackson and company. It’s going to take a lot more than that to make Galloway’s 3’s count, and to make people believe that the Knicks can take the Eastern Conference again.

Let’s say, for example, that the Knicks get Towns, the 6’11” forward/center, with the first pick in the draft. He would fit in perfectly into Jackson’s hailed triangle offense. A gifted shooter as a big man who can hit his free throws, Towns is perfect in the system that thrives on big men playing face-up basketball with his athleticism and length. The problem is then, who can feed him the ball? Jose Calderon, currently injured, is a capable point guard, but once the ball gets in Anthony’s hands, it never leaves. He is what we call a “volume scorer”, which is a colloquialism for a guy who needs the ball 100% of the time offensively to score 25 a game. Anthony also likes to drive and draw fouls, which he simply can’t do in the triangle. Until he was injured, he averaged a career low in free throws attempted per game.

The Triangle Offense, depicted above, relies on court awareness and team chemistry, both of which go by the wayside with Carmelo Anthony on the team.

The problem isn’t solely the system, or solely Anthony’s need for the ball. The problem is the fact that Jackson and Fisher are trying to run the exact system that Anthony can’t be successful in. This system needs a certain tempo to it, and needs more fluidity than Anthony can afford it. Michael Jordan, who thrived under Jackson and the triangle offense, averaged a little over 5 assists for his career. Anthony averages about three, which doesn’t work in the offense predicated around finding the open man.

If the Knicks really want to be successful, they can’t rely on one draft pick to solve their woes. If they want to rebuild and revamp around Anthony, who even with one knee is still far and away the best player on the roster, they need to be patient. Drafting Towns is a great start, but it’s pretty clear that next year will probably be another rough one, unless they sign LaMarcus Aldridge in free agency this summer. Then there won’t be cap room left for Kevin Durant in 2016 if they choose to pursue him. Coincidentally, what would be Durant’s first year in New York would be Calderon’s last. Then they would be in the market for a point guard, and they wouldn’t be bad enough to get a top-notch guard in the draft. There would only be enough cap room to get a point guard for the bare minimum, and the talent level at that price is not what the team needs.

The only constant for the Knicks in the coming years will be Anthony, above.

In the coming years, the Knicks will have a strangely intertwined situation between their cap space, draft picks, and ultimately production on the court. It doesn’t bode well for the fan base, who have been longing for sustained success since the Eddy Curry era. You should never discredit Jackson, however. He always seems to have a higher plan that no one can see, and he has the uncanny ability to make a winner out of anyone. For the last ten games of the 2014-15 season, though, sit back, relax, and watch the dynamically dysfunctional trio of Galloway, Bargnani, and Cole Aldrich go to work.