GOODYEAR, Ariz. — Brandon Phillips looked as if he might be training for the special forces, maybe the Navy SEALs.

The sun beat down incessantly on the cacti and desert sand near the Cincinnati Reds spring training complex as pitchers, catchers and a few position players took leisurely batting practice and fielded ground balls and fly ball.

Phillips did that, too — batting practice and some ground balls on his first day in camp.

He wasted no time putting his body to a supreme test shortly after his arrival late Wednesday morning.

The star second baseman Twitter mega-star put on his game pants, hiked them to just below his knees, and attacked Krause Hill, a hill the Department of Defense could use to train its special ops guys.

Krause Hill, named after strength and conditioning coach Matt Krause, is a 12-degree grassy knoll next to the clubhouse and rises to what appears to be the highest point in Goodyear.

Phillips sprinted up it at least a dozen times at full speed and when he finished he was not only not gasping for air, he wasn’t even breathing hard.

The Navy should have talked him into signing up right then.

That hill, though, seems to be easier than the other hill Phillips is trying to conquer — an extension on the contract that expires after this season’s $12 million year.

Phillips, though, is making no demands, setting no deadlines and is not raising his voice as he talks about it.

If it happens, it happens. If not, certainly somebody out there can use a second baseman with Navy SEAL capabilities.

Phillips, though, hopes it happens, that he can affix his signature to a Cincinnati Reds contract and remain with his team and his homeys who where the wishbone-C.

“I’m not trying to break the bank or nothing like that,” he said. “I don’t want no Prince Fielder money, nothing like that (9 years, $214 million). I just want to be within what other second basemen are asking for.”

Atlanta’s Dan Uggla was signed to a five-year $62 million deal and Chase Utley has a seven-year $85 million contract with Philadelphia.

Through it all, Phillips is being the good soldier, make that the good Navy SEAL. He did say he wishes it were all behind him, that he was signed, sealed and ready to deliver for the next few years.

“Of course I hoped it would be over with by now,” he said. “I hoped I’d be coming to camp signed. But it is what it is. All I’m going to do is go out there and play as best as I can and do what is best for the team.

“My day will come,” he added. “I’ll let my agent and the Reds take care of it. I would have liked to have it worked out, but it didn’t work out that way. I just want to be in MY city. They took me in. I have a house here (Cincinnati) and everything. So let’s hope it all turns out.”

Phillips says he hasn’t heard anything for a while, “For so long that I can’t remember, it has been that long.”

Asked if his agent and the Reds would talk during the season, Phillips said, “I heard my agent would try to talk to them again during spring training. I don’t know if it is true or not, but he said he’ll try and hopefully they’ll get some things done. This is still where I want to be.
“I like what they did with the team and now all we have to do is go out there and win and get things done,” he said.

Phillips said he won’t shut down contract talks, won’t say, “It’s a distraction. I won’t talk during the season.”

Said Phillips, “To tell the truth, not really. I don’t see myself saying that. I always love to hear what they have to say and I’m not going to let it bother me. They’ll talk to my agent more than myself and my agent will bring it to me. I’ll just be worried about going out there and catching the ball and hitting the ball. That’s my job.”

And his job will be to bat leadoff after the Reds failed to make any move that might bring a leadoff hitter to the club and permit Phillips to bat in his preferred No. 2 slot.

“I’ve worked with my dad and my brother to get ready for spring training,” he said. “I pushed myself hard. I’m just happy to be around the team, my second family.

“I prepared more last year to be a leadoff hitter than I did this year,” he said. “I know what it takes to be the best leadoff hitter I can be and I’ll go out there and do it my way, try to make things happen for the team. Leadoff? I’m looking forward to it.”

During the workout, Phillips was at second base rehearsing all those ESPN Top Ten web gems that he performs during the season.

If fans believe some of those never-been-seen defensive plays, like his through the legs throws and behind the back throws, are impromptu, well, they should watch Phillips practice.

“I actually practice those things, those situations,” he said. “I imagine what I might have to do on different types of plays and figure out ways to do them.”

That’s why his glove is solid gold — three Gold Gloves in the last four years. And he was robbed of one in 2009. But then, Phillips is used to being the robber when he plays defense and steals hits away from befuddled and perplexed hitters.

Hal McCoy’s Reds’ spring training reports are proudly sponsored by the Buckeye Insurance Group…insuring the Heartland for over 130 years!

Cincinnati - We were a dusty lot: Sammy, Shep and me, all crowded around the black and white television set, each elbowing for the best possible position.

We had spent the morning on a scrubbed out diamond up town playing ball, learning baseball, playing baseball, fielding ground balls on rough ground, learning to take one in the face, still managing to make a good throw, finding out how to catch a ball glancing off the limb of a maple tree or rolling down off Ruth Trotter’s garage.

Baseball was everything to us, and this was our holiday. This was Saturday afternoon, time for The Game of The Week: Dizzy Dean smiling and singing “The Wabash Cannonball,” Pee Wee Reese, there at his side, telling us stories about Mantle and Mays and Roger Maris, who just last season hit 61 home runs, accomplishing the unthinkable – breaking Babe Ruth’s single season home run record.

“He’ll never do it again,” Shep said.

“Betcha,” said Sammy, the most avid Yankee fan among us.

“Okay,”  Shep countered, “a dollar.”

“You ain’t got no dollar.”

“Do so! C’mon, bet. Shake on it.”

“Shut up! They’re about to start,” I said.

“Yeah,” Sammy said. “Shut up, Shep. Still ain’t got no dollar. Ain’t never had no dollar.”

That Saturday the Yankees were playing the Detroit Tigers at Yankee Stadium and Pee Wee said that while New York was again the favorite to win the pennant, Detroit could pose some problems for them.

We loved Pee Wee, trusted him. He was from just down the road, Louisville, Kentucky. He talked like us, sounded like the people we knew. He told us about the Tigers, explained why they could challenge the Yankees. They had Norm Cash, who hit for average and power. They had Rocky Colavito, who had come over from Cleveland, and, of course, he said, there was Al Kaline. “And we all know about Al Kaline,” Pee Wee said.

“We surely do,” said Dizzy, that grin, that chuckle always present in his voice. “You betcha, one of the best in the game.”

That day we learned about Kaline.

Bottom of the ninth, the Tigers led 2-1.  Elston Howard was at the plate. There were two outs and a man on second. Howard sliced an outside pitch to shallow right field. Sammy started yelling, “Tie game! Tie game!” But here came Kaline, running fast, bending low and then lower. He reached down, his glove just grazing the outfield grass. He made the catch. He went to the ground, rolled on his left shoulder. The game was over and Kaline was hurt. His collarbone was broken, but it was one helluva play. Tigers win. Yankees lose.

Sammy bitched.

“I like this Kaline,” Shep said.

“Yeah,” I said. “He could have pulled up, played it on a bounce. Didn’t. He went for it.”

“Screw Kaline,” Sammy said.

Pee Wee and Dizzy praised Kaline; told us that’s the way he always played the game.

That evening we went back to our scrubbed out field, gathered every kid who could play the game and had another. As always, we assumed the names of idols. Sammy took his position at short and said, “I’m Kubek.”

Shep went to first and said, “I’m Musial.”

I trotted to the outfield. Always I was Mays. That day it was different. “I’m Kaline,” I said.

On that day, May 26, 1962, Kaline was hitting .345 with 13 homers and 38 RBI’s. The injury cost him two months of the season. Still, he ended up hitting .304, driving in 94 runs and hitting 29 home runs.

Had he been healthy, the Tigers might have, as Pee Wee suggested, made a run at the Yankees. Norm Cash hit 39 homers and drove in 89 runs. Colavito hit 37 homers and drove in 112 runs. Jim Bunning won 19 games. Hank Aguirre won 16. Don Mossi and Phil Regan each won 11. Still, the Tigers finished fourth in the American League, just nine games over .500.

But, because of that catch, I ended up making a study of Kaline. He came into the league in 1953, an 18-year-old bonus baby. Two years later he won the batting title. He hit .340. He was 20 years old, and finished second to Yogi Berra in the MVP voting. He wasn’t a power hitter. He wasn’t glamorous like Mantle and Mays. He was, well, normal, but solid, dependable, patient comes to mind. I liked the way he carried himself in the field and at the plate; liked the way he wore the uniform.

For years, I carried his ball card around in my wallet, right there along side my driver’s license, draft card and student ID, and well after Kaline retired in 1974, even after he was voted into the Hall of Fame in 1980.

From time to time, people would see the card in my wallet and ask about it, usually something like, “You a Tigers fan?”
“Nope,” I’d answer, “just always appreciated Al Kaline. Ya know, from 1953 through 1965, he never struck out more than 57 times in a season. Do you know how impressive that is? Over 500 at bats a season and ya strike out less than 10 percent of the time?”

“Baseball guy, are ya?”

I was then; still am.

                                                                                 ———-

In 1985, I was covering a spring training game in Lakeland, Florida, the Cincinnati Reds and Detroit Tigers, at Joker Marchant Stadium. The Tigers were defending world champs. The Reds were trying to find their way under the managerial tutelage of Reds legend Pete Rose, who was, in retrospect, more engaged in securing the all-time hits record than leading his team back to respectability.

It was a glorious March day, high blue skies. So, I grabbed my scorebook and fled the press box. I found a picnic table down the right field line just beyond the bleachers. It was a perfect vantage point, solitary, peaceful just the sounds of the game and crowd riding along on a soft breeze. About the second or third inning, an older man came riding up in a golf cart. His hair was snow white. He was trim and fit. He wore Tiger uniform pants and a blue sweatshirt. He was tanned, dignified.

“Great spot,” he said. “Mind if I join you?” He had a Coke in a large plastic cup and a chicken sandwich half-wrapped in foil. “You with the Reds?”

I said I covered the Reds for The Cincinnati Enquirer. He smiled. “Next best thing to playing the game is covering the game,” he said. “My name’s Kaline, Al Kaline.”

To that point, neither of us had turned our eyes from the field. “Al Kaline?” I said.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m honored,” I said, extending my hand in greeting. He wiped his hand on his pants, rubbing away a gob of mayonnaise. “Pardon me,” he said. “This is one sloppy sandwich. I shouldn’t be eating it, but it’s awful good.”

The rest of the afternoon, we talked baseball, ambling along, one topic after another. Would the Tigers repeat? “Don’t know,” he said. “It’s hard to do what they did last year. Everything just fell into place. Just got to play ’em out; see what happens.”

He asked about the Reds. “It’ll all come down to pitching,”  I said. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized how stupid and cliché they must have sounded.

“Probably,”  he said, with just a hint of a smile. “Generally does. Ya got to figure Pete will spark ’em and (Dave) Parker is still a bona fide all-star. I like that Soto, Mario. Great change. Beyond him, doesn’t seem to be much there.”

Honestly, I don’t remember much about the game that day. I believe the Tigers throttled the Reds, Kirk Gibson and the rest of the Tigers lighting-up every pitcher who wandered in from the visitor’s bullpen.

All I remember is sitting there talking with Al Kaline. Along about the fifth inning or so, I told him about watching his catch on May 26, 1962, and how I had walked around with his ball card in my wallet for years after that.

He smiled. “Yeah, that catch cost me some time. Don’t know that I was ever the same after that. So, you carried my card around in your wallet?” He seemed genuinely impressed. “Ya still got it?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t,” I said. “Some years ago I lost that wallet. I think I left it in a bar. Maybe Chicago.”

Kaline laughed. “Lot’s been lost in Chicago,” he said.

“Lost everything: driver’s license, credit cards, all of it, even your card – a 1957 Topps.”

“That’s a shame,” he said, “I mean about your credit cards and such. Always a pain taking care of that stuff.”

“Yeah,” I said. I couldn’t help but laugh and so did he

The game had reached that point every spring game reaches, when both teams are running out every retread, rag-tag hopeful and promising minor leaguer in the organization.

“Well,”  Kaline said, stretching, “’bout time for me to get a shower and get on outta here. This here, this doesn’t mean much. They’re just taking a peek, resting the regulars. Nice meeting ya. Nice talking with ya.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Kaline,” I said.

“It’s Al,” he said. “Call me Al.”

Later that summer, I went to a card shop and bought another Kaline card. It’s the one you see here from 1968 I don’t carry it in my wallet. I keep it in a safe spot, just like the memories.

Sidney - In a way Tuesday evening’s second-round tournament game with Troy Christian must have seemed a little bitter/sweet for Carla Siegel and her Ft. Loramie girls basketball team.

Sweet for the fact of being a perennial favorite in the sometimes-not-so-interesting Sidney sectional, one that the Redskins have dominated in recent years.

But seeded second with a 14-6 record for the season, it must be a bit bitter that they’re not an automatic in some people’s minds to get beyond the likes of would-be opponents in the sectional and district rounds this year.

Bitter for the fact of knowing that the window for winning that long-sought-after state title in girls basketball may have closed with last year’s loss with a senior-laden team to Canal Winchester Harvest Prep in the Division IV Finals in Columbus.

“That was disappointing, yes,”  said Siegel recently.  “But it’s part of basketball…part of high school basketball.  Kids graduate and move on and the challenge then becomes to take the next group and teach the game, prepare them mentally to compete, and coach that group’s abilities and personalities.

“It’s hard to lose a Janel Olberding and Claire Ruhenkamp for what they meant to us the last four years.  Their’s was a very special senior class.  But Reggi Brandewie and Darian Rose played a lot of basketball last year and they return this year with abilities and personalities of their own.  This is why you coach.”

It’s why you play the game, as the cliche’ goes.  Different kids, a different year, different opponents, and different challenges.  Ranking second all-time in career wins at Loramie to her own high school coach, Jane Poeppelman, Siegel,  with her 218 wins entering Tuesday’s game with Troy Christian, concedes nothing with year’s team of sophomores and juniors.

She's A Shooter!...Freshman Hallie Benanzer came off the bench to hit 4 of 6 from three-point range and score 13 points.

“It’s been one of the strangest years in my career,”  says Siegel.  “We’re young, but we’ve been young before.  But we’ve had so many issues with injuries and juggling lineups.  Everyone on our bench has played and contributed this year…out of necessity.”

Led by the committed, competitive play of 5’9″ sophomore Darian Rose, who missed nearly a month herself with a broken nose and surgery to correct a deviated septum back in December and January.  No stranger to the lineup or big moments on the court, she averaged nearly 12 minutes a game as a freshman, coming off the bench as a highly effective sixth man.

“She’s a special player because she can do so many things for us,”  adds Siegel.  “She’s not as fast as Janel (Olberding) was, and doesn’t have the reach that Janel had, but she plays with the same kind of intensity.  She led us in scoring, in assists, in steals, and even in rebounding at one point of the season until Reggi Brandewie caught up with her and passed her.”

For her part, Brandewie, who averaged less time than Rose last year, has flourished with her own opportunity this year.  Averaging better than 10 points per game, the 5’10″ junior has steadily become the kind of confident post presence so necessary to the Redskins’ offense…the kind supplied last year by Claire Ruhenkamp.

They both rose up Tuesday in an overwhelming 91-18 shellacking of Troy Christian in the sectional semi-final round.  Typical of Loramie’s aggressive style of play, the Redskins forced 20 first-half turnovers.  Rose, Brandewie and the others…Kylie Drees, Amanda Holtheide, Renee Meyer, and 41 points of the bench…turned all those turnovers into easy transition buckets.

Speaking of the bench, freshman Hallie Benanzer, in the best tradition of Darian Rose a year ago, was 4 of 6 from three-point range, on her way to 13 points and distinction as the Dave Arbogast Buick, GMC Press Pros Star Of The Game.

A Win-For-All...Megan Imwalle drives for two of her five points, one of twelve Loramie players to score in the win over Troy Christian.

In all, 12 players scored, five in double figures.  Afterwards, Siegel smiled at the question of being taken for granted in light of the circumstances of their season.

“It has been frustrating,”  she said.  “I’ll admit, when we had all the injuries the kids were frustrated.  I was frustrated…not at the kids, but you just want to have your team together.  At that point after the Versailles game we were 7-6 and I really did feel like we were on the outside looking in.

“The reality of things is we have such high expectations for ourselves.  People make a lot over tradition, and basketball in Loramie is a tradition.  These girls grow up with it.  They play from the fifth grade on.  They watch the kids ahead of them.  Some of them are managers and fill water bottles.  So we may not be the team that people favor, as we have been in the past, but if that’s the case it only motivates these kids all the more.”

Loramie moves on to the sectional final round this weekend to play Mechanicsburg, who advanced Tuesday night with a 61-41 win over Botkins.

Winners now of nine straight games since the low point of their season, if anyone watched them on Tuesday it was hard to see any remnant of underdog status in the Redskins’ 73-point win.  They certainly got the attention of a respectable 8-12 Troy Christian club.

“Thanks for taking it easy on us,”  Eagles coach Jim Bolin said to Siegel with a smile as he left the gym.

She’d heard it before.  It’s tournament time.  You do what you can, while you can.  Twelve of her players scored…five in double figures.

“You never know how to take that,”  Siegel shrugged.

Perhaps, but make no mistake.  You don’t write them off.  Don’t take them lightly.

For any who wondered…there’s no such thing as being on the outside looking in…in Loramie!

Note:  For additional images of the Redskins game with Troy Christian, click on the Online Store icon on the front page.  You’ll be directed to that gallery.

With its 100-year tradition of  great food and great service to Shelby County, the “Spot” restaurant is proud to sponsor coverage of Shelby County League sports on Press Pros.

 There is this television commercial running these days that shows a young woman who hangs from rock ledges, climbs up sheer rock faces and assorted mountains. I don’t remember what the commercial’s for – shows you how effective an ad it is – but it’s not one that I will soon forget.

This woman stands on top of these skinny little mountain tops and rock piles – no wider than her foot. And she climbs without ropes!

I know, it could be sleight of hand. A good film editor might be the real star here. The woman could be standing on top of a platform two feet off the ground with the skinny mountain top superimposed. Computers have made it so you can’t trust anything you see on television.

But even if it is not real, it scares the beegeebers out of me.

Honestly, I have a difficult time watching it. Usually, I turn my head until the ad is over.

Squeamish? Absolutely. Chicken? You betcha.I have never liked heights. I have even tried to make myself tolerate heights, but it has never worked.

Once, on a family vacation, I decided to drive to the top of Pike’s Peak in Colorado. It was a white knuckler all the way, but we made it up and down without a problem.

Another time I took the elevator to the restaurant deck of the CN Tower in Toronto. No big deal (I could say that after I came back down.)

And although I did make it to the observation deck near the top of the Las Vegas hotel Stratosphere, I couldn’t bring myself to walk over to the railing and look down.

Even if I am sitting in my easy chair with the remote in one hand and a beverage in the other, I get an uneasy feeling when I see people standing on ledges or dangling from a cliff, even though I know deep down it’s probably fake.

To make this scenario even a bit stranger, I have always enjoyed reading books about maintain climbers. If it gets too scary, I figure I can always close the book and pull up the covers and dream about fishing or something.

I suppose there are people who really like that ad. It gets their juices flowing. More power to them.

For people around here who like to climb, the Urban Krag in Dayton’s Oregon District has been quite successful. It’s a pretty cool place to see, even for a non-climber like me.

Karl Williamson took an old church at the corner of Cass and Clay streets and turned it into perhaps the most unique climbing gym in the U.S. In fact, he told a television reporter that the only other climbing gym located inside an old church is in England.

Urban Krag, which has been open since 1996, has walls of different heights (all the way up to 56 feet). The building had been condemned and was scheduled to be demolished before Williamson stepped in and turned its high walls into climbing challenges. All climbers wear harnesses and have a buddy on the floor handling the ropes.

I know it’s completely safe, but – sorry – I can’t see myself 56 feet up in the air, harness or no harness.

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It’s Saturday morning, February 18th, at 9 am.

Temperature’s hovering around 28 degrees and there’s something sweet on state route 185, east of Versailles.

It is February, and yes, it’s tournament basketball season for the 17-2 Versailles Tigers, who are pretty sweet themselves, the #1-seed in this weekend’s opening round of the Division III boys basketball tournament.

But basketball and 28-degree weather are incongruous.  Cold weather in February means the sap is running.

Your sinuses, certainly.

But better, the kind that that comes from maple trees…that which is gathered, strained, boiled and gently turned into pure maple syrup.

Bob Shefbuch, my neighbor in Covington, had done it for years from the half dozen sugar maple trees in his front yard on McMaken Road.  Every February he’d tap those trees and hang empty Prestone anti-freeze jugs beneath the spigots to collect the sap that dripped, dripped, dripped until it was time to empty and replace the gallon container.

Sure as rain he’d boil that stuff down in his garage for a week, and by the weekend he’d be standing on my back doorstep with a quart of syrup to, in his words, help his neighbors “welcome spring.”

The Essence...A drop of maple sap clings to the spigot before falling into one of the collection pails at Maple Ridge.

Trouble was, my wife Mindy would never eat it because she couldn’t get the image of anti-freeze out of her head.  She was sure a spoonful of Bob’s syrup would be no less harmful than serving the original contents of his collection jugs to a dog or cat, which ain’t pretty.

“I mean, really,”  she’d say.  “Who collects maple sap in an anti-freeze jug?”

But there were no anti-feeze jugs along the Stillwater River on Saturday morning, as volunteers from the Miami County Parks drank coffee, stoked the fire, poured gathered sap into the three-tiered boiling pans, and patiently went through the day-long process of turning forty gallons of maple drippins’ into one gallon of maple syrup.

This takes place every February alongside the Stillwater on the Maple Ridge adjunct of the Stillwater Prairie Preserve, purchased five years ago from heirs of the Warren Coy family.

The Coys first inhabited the site back in 1957, having purchased the 122-acre property from George W. Johnson, who had bought the property back in 1913 for its pristine woods, meandering river, and fertile bottom ground…enough land to farm and from which to make a living.

Warren Coy identified and embraced many of the same attributes of the property, including a small “sugar shack” used by Johnson to make maple syrup during his 33 years of inhabitance.  Coy, along with his wife and three daughters, renovated the shack, made improvements, and used it to produce syrup gathered from the majestic maple trees that graced the ridge overlooking the river and adjacent bottoms.

Upon the death of Warren Coy in 1971, and his wife Lulu in 1977, the farm was passed down to his heirs, who wanted the property maintained with respect to the legacy of Warren Coy’s 24 years as its caretaker.

“I think they wanted to see it in the hands of the Park District,”  says Miami County Parks Commissioner Terry Netzley.  “There are a lot of valuable natural resources here, when you consider the river and the number of quality trees on the property.  This was a wonderful purchase for the Park District and the people who will continue to enjoy it as the Coy family did.”

With more than a hundred trees tapped and dripping sap, it adds up quickly.  There was an immediate need for a new, and more adaptable sugaring facility.

Netzley, a retired engineer, provided the plans.

Dan Kerber, of Kerber Sheet Metal, in Troy, provided the modern stainless steel cooking trays.

Other volunteers, Coy family descendants,  and friends of the Park District provided the elbow grease and financial wherewithal to make it happen.

Nature's Beauty...Steam from boiling sap mingles with the rays of light that stream through the walls of the new "sugar shack" at Maple Ridge.

Saturday morning no fewer than a dozen devotees were boiling sap, providing guided tours of the “Ridge”, and explaining the process by which “natural” maple syrup is made.

Volunteers Bary Wood, Dale Gade and Charles Fath were feeding the fire with wood stored and dried in the new building.

Rod Schmidt, who has a quarter century of experience in syrup making with the Miami County Joint Vocational School was overseeing the cooking process.  Warren Coy and his family sold syrup to augment the farm’s income in the 50s.  The Miami County Park District does not.

“Mr. Coy would get up before dawn during sugaring season, stoke the fire to have it burn all day, then teach school all day in Pleasant Hill,”  adds John Virgint, Volunteers Coordinator for the Park District.

“After his day at school he came home, stoked the fire again, and watched over the syrup process until he went to bed…but not before stoking the fire for the night.  It was an around-the-clock process during sugaring season.”

It’s not that intense presently, just a weekend endeavor for many of those dedicated to the tradition of making maple syrup and the legacy of George Johnson and Warren Coy.  Officially you can’t buy syrup from the Park District.  What’s produced from a long day of cooking and camaraderie is usually divided amongst the volunteers.  The occasional interested onlooker can usually get a sample by twisting the right arm, or arms.

But the mission of those who maintain one of the Stillwater Valley’s sweetest tradition is perfectly in line with the mission statement of the Miami County Parks District:

The mission of the Park District is to acquire and manage outstanding natural resources for the purpose of preservation, conservation, education, and passive leisure activities for the people of Miami County.

To plan a visit to the Maple Ridge operation, go to the Miami County Parks website…www.miamicountyparks.com…for directions and a schedule of future activities and opportunities.  Check it out.  You won’t be disappointed.

Something sweet…on route 185!

I know it’s February, and I knew last Friday night that people’s minds were already on baseball, even while the Troy Trojans were putting the finishing touches on rival Piqua in the season finale of high school basketball.

Two different people stopped to comment that they enjoyed reading Press Pros, asking if Hal McCoy had yet left for Goodyear, Arizona.  “How soon before before his first column?”  asked one.

“Soon,”  I promised.  “Soon.”

Which of course is the perfect cliche’ answer in the season of cliche’, the period of off-season and spring training baseball when everyone has an opinion about the Reds…strengths, weaknesses, prognosis and predictions.

One area headline last week:  The Time For The Reds To Win Is Now!

Really?  No kidding.  Pujols is gone in St. Louis.  Fielder is gone in Milwaukee.  Assumably the Reds are stronger with three added front-line pitchers, so sure…the time for the Reds to win is now.

A Cincinnati talk show host opened with this gem last week:  “It’s time to put up or shut up for the Reds?”

Theoretically you could say that every spring, irrespective of off-season additions.  Do you think they’re going out there to lose?

You think they sat around the clubhouse on Sunday and talked about finishing third?

Another recent headline:  Stubbs, Bruce must cut down on strikeouts to help Reds.

I don’t know, but I’m just guessing that Drew Stubbs and Jay Bruce won’t hit camp next week and agree among themselves that they’re fine just the way they are…to have another year just like last year.  In an era that’s redundant for the fact of statistical information, they know the numbers.  They’ve heard the critics.  They’re tired of reading the cliches’!

Hal McCoy and I talk a lot during the course of the off-season, and I’m sure when I write this this that I’m in line with the overtones of Reds camp in Goodyear as he found it on Sunday.  Bet on it…these three facts trump every cliche’ you can think of relative to the Reds success or lack thereof in 2012.

*  They’re totally unproven at shortstop, one of vital defensive positions on the field.  Take nothing away from Zack Cozart and what he did in his two-week cameo last August.  But the operative words are…two-week.  Nice kid, wonderful kid…the kind for whom you hope nothing but the best.  But for the time, and until he has a full major league season under his belt, he’s an experiment.  That’s no cliche’.

*  They still don’t have a proven left fielder in terms of saving runs defensively, or creating runs through offensive impact someplace in the order.  Do I like what Chris Heisey has done in limited opportunity?  Sure.  But has he done it over 162 games?  NO!  Will it be another platoon scenario in 2012 with him and Ryan Ludwick?  Looks like, and that rarely works harmoniously.  No cliche’.  Fact!

*  They still don’t have a proven answer for third base.  They have a legacy, but will Scott Rolen return healthy and productive at his age…after another injury absence and shoulder surgery?  Who knows?  And if he does they’re only talking about 125 games from him, which means who for the other 40 games…Juan Francisco?  Anyone see a sure thing at the hot corner?

And if you’re keeping score on all this, I’ve just mentioned the entire left side of the field.  Fact!

That’s just three, but the spectre of an unhappy Brandon Phillips, the cloud over Joey Votto leaving after this season for reasons of financial solvency, another unproven behind the plate in the person of Devin Mesoraco…are all matters upon which Mssrs. McCoy and Fulks have spent valuable social time, and agreed to let it happen on the field and sort it out when the time comes.

And this…Bronson Arroyo, Mat Latos and Johnny Cueto?  Or Chris Carpenter, Adam Wainwright and Jaime Garcia?

One last obvious:  Can the Reds pitch enough to upend the Cardinals?

The season for cliche’!

What I’m writing today you won’t read in any other local form of media, for one political or idealistic reason or another.

But I’d beg you to read, just the same, and consider.  And when you’re done, agree with the fact that what I’m saying isn’t the gospel in America in the year 2012.

Since 1951 Americans have recognized, if not celebrated, “President’s Day” as set aside by the Congress to honor the office of the presidency.

Not specifically to honor George Washington’s and Abraham Lincoln’s respective birthdays, as many might think, but to honor all those who have served in the highest office of the land.

It does so happen that Lincoln’s birthday falls on February 12th, and Washington’s on February 22nd.  And for many years those two dates were officially recognized as historical dates of significance.

But since 1971 “President’s Day” has been observed as an official holiday, on the third Monday of February, and in the minds of most to honor the birthdays of Washington and Lincoln.  One is known as the father of the our country…the other as the man who preserved the union of America during his presidency from 1860 through 1865.

Understand again, President’s Day is not about Washington and Lincoln, it’s just assumed that it’s about the first and sixteenth presidents of the United States because they’re two of our most recognizable and admired past presidents, both born in February.

I dare say, too, that it’s well and good that Washington and Lincoln lived and served in the day that they did, in terms of their historical legacy.  For if they lived today, I’m not sure they’d be so revered and honored, notwithstanding their service to the country.

In Washington’s case he might have been “the father of the country”, but he was known to be stubborn, set in his ways, unequivicating, and, as a multi-millionaire plantation owner in Virginia he was known to have owned more than 300 African-American slaves.

For one, the issue of slavery would have rightly haunted Washington as a figure of modern culture.  Of course we overlook that now. People simply shrug about it and accept it as just another dirty little secret of the early days of American government and its legislators.

And in his will, Washington decreed that his slaves were to be set free, but not at his death….at the death of his widow Martha, should she survive him.  Convenient, eh?

Second, had George Washington lived in this day with his land holdings and cash assets, he might well be as rich as Donald Trump and Bill Gates…maybe richer.  And of course, we hate millionaires now and do everything we can do to make them suffer as though they never worked, saved, invested, and profited from their ability to make and maintain wealth.

We would also insist that Washington share his money with every legal or illegal citizen that refused to educate and prepare himself for the reality of being a contributing, taxpaying, member of society.  I dare say if we had it to do over today, for the fact of his being part of the selfish, evil rich I wonder if we would have George’s picture on the dollar bill.

In Lincoln’s case, he is my favorite American president of all.  I confess that I admire him greatly for not only being a self-made man, but for his steadfast belief in the American Union and dogged determination to preserve it as such during the conflict years of the Civil War.

That’s not to say that Lincoln wasn’t a politician, and that he wasn’t opportunistic, for he was.  Do some reading and you’ll discover that Honest Abe might have been honest, yes, but he also knew when to call in his markers.  A view of his cabinet appointees is all the proof you need.

But if Lincoln had served in this day, I wonder how his legacy would have been reserved.

For sure he would have been admired for overseeing the abolition of slavery, and the contention that all men are created equal, if only for the fact of all men deserve equal opportunity to succeed.

However, since then we know different as it pertains to all men making the most of their opportunities.

But Lincoln was also uncompromising on issues in which he believed, such as the preservation of the Union.  We know that he was committed to the process of war to preserve it…to the point of saying in his re-election year of 1864 that he had little or no chance of being returned for a second term in office.  The war effort was that unpopular and going that badly for Union forces.

Today, Lincoln would have been impeached for suspending the writ of habeas corpus, as he did in 1861.

He would have been condemned for not being more compromising, for not settling the dispute between North and South in a manner that did not require bloodshed.

As revered as he is now, during his presidency there was very little consensus, even among his own cabinet, of his being a knowledgable and effective leader of the country.  He was thought of as being an ignorant buffoon with “gorilla-like” features…by members of his own party!  Imagine what they would have said about him today.

No, I contend that it’s well and good that we think so highly of Washington and Lincoln now, given our present political and cultural makeup.

And for that fact, I doubt of we’d approve so highly of the ideologies of Adams, Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt and others whose presidencies would surely have been scrutinized and criticized for being corrupt and out of step with the 21st century.  These were men who looked out for America and Americans first and honored and defended the constitution first and foremost, instead of questioning and criticizing it.

These were men willing to run for office, and serve, without governing in a manner that guaranteed that a majority of voters liked them well enough to elect them for a second term.

These were men willing to kick butts and take names, as long as it benefited the United States of America.  And that attitude is detested now, condemned by contemporary leadership, and would not be accepted.

These were different presidents for a different day, as the title of this column states.  Which is why I say…we don’t write and talk about it because we don’t know and appreciate our history.  We don’t know enough about the past presidents we think we honor, because we honor them with lip service only.

If we knew more about them we probably wouldn’t honor them at all.

We’re just happy to have Monday off.

Press Pros is delighted to introduce the newest member of our roster of writers, columnist Greg Hoard.  Hoard is the former beat writer covering the Reds for the Cincinnati Enquirer, and, sports anchor for the Fox Network, Channel 19, in Cincinnati.  A veteran of southwest Ohio sports coverage for more than 20 years, his link to the Cincinnati sports scene, prep and professional, is an artful addition to the Press Pros mission of presenting the best sports stories by your favorite sports writers!  To read more of Greg’s stories log on to his site, www.greghoard.com!

By Greg Hoard

Cincinnati - My new sports editor pulled me aside. We called him “Peaches,” because he had come from Macon, Georgia. He was nice enough, but not really, well, sophisticated.

When Anthony Munoz was negotiating his first contract with the Cincinnati Bengals, and the talks were stalled, “Peaches” wrote a column referring to Munoz as “The Big Taco.” It was 1980 and even then it didn’t go over very well.

“So,” Peaches said, “here’s what I want you to do. The Montreal Expos are in town. I want you to go talk to Gary Carter, see if he thinks he is the next Johnny Bench. It’ll be good, real good. That’s what I want you to do.”

I was the newest staff member at The Cincinnati Post and not well liked by my new peers. Several had been promised the position I had been given. Glad for the opportunity and eager to earn my place, I didn’t quibble over the assignment. I figured – somehow – I could go after the story with more subtlety, more touch than “Peaches” had described the assignment. After all, what could Carter say to such a question? And I had an inside track.

Earlier that summer, I had become acquainted with Bill “Spaceman” Lee, and written a story about his pre-game ritual in Cincinnati, running from the team hotel downtown up to The Blind Lemon in Mount Adams, roughly four miles, having a couple of beers with proprietor Eddie Sheppard or his right-hand man, Walter Brown, and then catching a cab back to Riverfront Stadium to get ready for the game.

All The Right Numbers...In his 19 big league seasons Hall Of Famer Gary Carter hit 324 home runs, drove in 1225 runs and compiled a career .262 batting average.

As it turned out, I didn’t need “Spaceman’s” assistance. It was raining and I found Carter taking batting practice in the cage in Riverfront’s tunnel, where the sound of hard-hit balls echoed off the cavernous, cement walls, along with the laughter and pregame song-and-dance that came with every team in every major league city.

I had to wade past Ellis Valentine, Warren “Crow” Crowmartie, and Andre Dawson. Ross Grimsley was wandering around talking about his days with the Reds. He seemed more whacked than Bill Lee and Lee was out there – way out there.

Finally, I came to Carter and introduced myself. I don’t know that I have ever met a happier man. He went out of his way to be accommodating, always smiling and with a quick and, seemingly, honest answer.

Between rounds in the batting cage, we talked for half-an-hour. After batting practice, we sat in the visitor’s dugout and talked until it was growing close to game time. Always, Gary Carter found a reason to smile. As time grew short, I threw out the question my editor wanted me to ask: “Do you regard yourself as the next Johnny Bench?”

I immediately felt stupid. What a question.

Gary Carter turned and looked at me. He had a great and engaging smile, as if he were filled with a joy and ease that came from some deep and peaceful source.

“No,” he said, finally. “The next Johnny Bench? There’s only one Johnny Bench. No. I feel like Gary Carter and I’m glad to be Gary Carter. I feel – I don’t know – grateful for the gifts I’ve been given. Johnny Bench? C’mon, no. There’s only one Johnny Bench.”

And there was that look, clear straight forward, nothing held back. How can I describe it? Honesty. Yes, I think that’s it, honesty and happiness.

We became pretty good friends over the years and I saw that look several times. I saw it the night at Shea Stadium he singled with two out in the ninth in game six of the 1986 World Series, starting an improbable rally that ended when Boston’s Bill Buckner missed Mookie Wilson’s slow ground ball to first, Ray Knight scored the winning run, and the series turned the Mets’ way.

That night, I muscled my way through the crowd in the Mets clubhouse. Reporters surrounded Carter. He said the same thing over and over: “We still have to win one more.”

When the crowd had dwindled, I walked up and said hello.

“Hey, ‘Cincinnati,’” he said. “What’s going on? How are you?”

I laughed. “Not as good as you,” I said. “Helluva game.”

Carter smiled, seemed that he was always smiling, always grateful for what had come his way.

“Man,” he said, “great game. Game like that you are still tingling.”

Keith Hernandez walked by. He had a Budweiser in one hand and a Winston in the other. He threw an arm around Carter’s neck. He said: “Way to go, Kid. We’ll finish it tomorrow.”

And, they did.

Gary Carter had many more tomorrows and a lot of good ones, but not enough. I will remember him as a solid ballplayer and solid spirit. I will remember “The Kid’s” smile. I will remember his honesty and his openness. I will remember him not as a good friend, but someone I was honored to know

I believe he enjoyed and reveled in every day of his life. Sadly, those days were far too short. He died today (02/16/12) at 57-years-old, a victim of brain cancer

He was taken far too young.

Of course, he was “The Kid.”

The broadest smile in Troy’s Trojan Activity Center Friday night belonged to senior Devon Alexander, and rightly so.

Not only did Alexander make his first and only start of the year, he and fellow senior Nick Wagner canned a pair of three-pointers to put the finishing touches on a blowout 61-38 win over rival Piqua.

It marked the Trojans’ 14th win of the season, their 44th in the last 63 games under coach Tim Miller.

It marked the third time in the past three seasons that the Trojans had won at least 14 games in a season.

It marked a perfect 10-0 record for the Trojans in GWOC North play.  No one could remember the last time it happened.

And, it signified the resolve of Alexander and eight fellow seniors to establish a pattern of consistency during their four years in the program.  That story, for the fact of how far Cody May, Seth Lucas, Jordan Price, Kelly Kirtz, Nick Wagner, Zach Miller, Quentin Vaughn and Dre Hudson had come, is one worth telling.

The story regarding 61-38 is another matter.

Troy's Dre Hudson and Cody May stuff the shot attempt of Piqua's Kyler Ashton.

To give you an idea, Troy led 22-5 at the end of the first quarter.

They led 27-12 at the half.

By the mid-point of the third quarter Troy led 40-12.  Piqua scored its first points at the 4:20 mark.

You get the idea.

But if you didn’t see it you missed the spectre of Alexander, Nick Wagner, Zach Miller, Quentin Vaughan and Dre Hudson starting, playing the first four-plus minutes of the game, and establishing a 9-2 lead before Piqua coach Heath Miller called a timeout to cool things off.

Spectre?  The “bench” starters hit four of their first five shots from the field, hotter than that pepper sprout that Johnny Cash used to sing about,  and established the trend for the evening…hustle, second effort, and domination of the Indians on the boards, particularly the offensive boards.

But it was the unmistakable joy with which Alexander and his fellow subs played in making their contribution that delighted the crowd of nearly 1,200.  This was their chance to finally show that their game and skills could be trusted.

“It wasn’t a token start,”  smiled regular starter Cody May, who enjoyed watching Alexander and company as much as he would have enjoyed playing himself.

On Senior Night Nick Wagner attacked the rim to score against rival Piqua.

“Those guys work hard and they’d been waiting for their chance to play.  We wanted to come out tonight and finish out the GWOC North 10-0.  It was good to come out, play hard and do it against Piqua especially, because they’re our rivals.”

In all, 10 different Trojans scored, led by junior Tyler Miller’s 17 points.  May caught fire in the second half to reach double figures, as well, with 13.

The other 31 points…evenly distributed between Jordan Price (6), Seth Lucas (6), Kelly Kirtz (4), Dre Hudson (2), Quentin Vaughan (2), Zach Miller (2), and Wagner and Alexander’s three each.

“We don’t get that chance like we got tonight very often,”  said the 5’ 8” Alexander.  “When you get a chance to start and play that many minutes you want to take advantage of it.

“We knew we had to play defense.  Doesn’t matter what you do on offense, to play here you have play defense and that’s what we wanted to do tonight.  We wanted to win 14 games again, even with some of the distractions we’ve had.  We’re still a team and we have the same goals as we had at the beginning of the season.”

Good stuff from one patient enough to accept a role, understand that role, and as he said…make the most of it when his opportunity came.

“Tonight was a blast.  Senior night…Piqua…last home game…it couldn’t have been better.”

“It really makes you feel good as a coach,”  added Tim Miller.  “Those kids aren’t used to being in that position and you don’t know what you’re going to get when you put them out there in a starting role.  Obviously, it was a great moment for them, but sometimes it comes back to put you in a hole.  They were determined not to let that happen tonight.  They’ve been busting their butts all year long.  They deserved some success as much as the next guy.”

44 wins in 63 games is also significant, in large part for the contribution of those subs accustomed to providing the competition in practice, if not for actual playing time in games.  More than anything, Miller appreciates that sacrifice for the fact of the consistency shown in the past three years.

“We struggled those first two years, no doubt about it,”  he smiled.  “But we won 14 the third year, 16 last year, and 14 so far this year.  The kids bought into what we wanted to do.  When that happens you can have some success.

In his last home game Cody May (#14) returned the crowd's appreciation for the effort and win with some appreciation of his own.

“I know what Coach Butler’s feeling like right about now.  It can be very trying.  It takes a lot of resolve to battle your way through what they’re going through and get to where you want to be.  I think he does a nice job and if they hang together I’m sure he’ll do some good things with them.”

The Trojans end their season on a high note, impressive wins over Sidney, Lebanon, and Piqua…if for no other reason than that of defying the recent odds.  The beat goes on with momentum and a lot of positive energy for their first-round tournament game with Vandalia.

For Piqua, a different beat goes on, albeit for a season that saw the Indians win four times, their highest total in three years.  There wasn’t much to say after Friday’s latest effort.  The Indians dressed quickly, boarded the bus and head back home to prepare for their own tournament opener…against Springboro, the team that beat them on Tuesday of this week, 67-29.

There was no joy, no smiles, no Devon Alexander, who capped off his night of first-evers by making his first appearance as the Dave Arbogast Star Of The Game on the Press Pros streaming audio post-game show.

“You know, different kids getting involved because they’re were asked to…because of the circumstances,”  said Tim Miller.  “You have to hope that good things happen for a reason.”

Pausing a moment, he added.  “You know Schultz (trainer Jeff Schultz) told me I’ve been starting the wrong five all year.  You take it for what it’s worth, I guess.”

For Devon Alexander and the others…Senior Night…starting…hitting that “three” at the end…beating Piqua…for what it’s worth?

Priceless!

It won’t take long to find out if Ohio State’s comfortable win at Minnesota on Tuesday night was a tease or a taste of things to come. 

The Buckeyes (22-4, 10-3) will tell us Saturday night in Ann Arbor, when they play Michigan with a continued share of first place in the Big Ten at stake.

Then we’ll know if head coach Thad Matta’s commitment to his bench is serious, or only as lasting as a Kim Kardashian marital commitment.
Then we’ll know if William Buford can play like a future NBA sharpshooter against a good defensive team, not just one that leaves him like he has leprosy.

And then we’ll know if Jared Sullinger can keep his mind on his business and not come off like an entitled brat.

Matta, Buford and Sullinger failed as miserably last Saturday night in a home loss to Michigan State as they succeeded swimmingly Tuesday at Minnesota. But the gap in quality between the Wolverines and the Gophers is greater than distance between the two states they call home.

Michigan (19-7, 9-4) has the sort of aggravating style and intimidating home court that will doubly challenge what occasionally appears a very soft bunch of Buckeyes.

For all his considerable success as a coach, Matta has struggled to get much consistency out of his freshman- and sophomore-laden squad.

The Buckeyes hope for the "better" William Buford in Saturday's rematch with Michigan.

That’s probably because Buford has not provided the sort of leadership expected of a four-year starter, and Sullinger’s edge sometimes seems as if it melted away with the 25 pounds he lost over the summer.

Michigan must have this win to preserve its Big Ten title hopes. The bloodlust for beating the Buckeyes has not abated in Ann Arbor even with the Wolverines win over OSU at the Big House in November.

Should Ohio State go into Crisler Arena and withstand that challenge, it would offer a much more convincing argument than the victory at Minnesota that OSU corrected its woes from the MSU debacle.

Too often this season, Matta has regressed and played his starters into the dust in tight games, most especially Buford, even when he’s lent nothing remotely substantial to the effort.

That’s forced Sullinger to produce even more. He looked to grow weary of that all at once against the Spartans, given his incessant whining about whistles that didn’t go his way amid an array of 10 turnovers.

OSU simply can’t afford an MSU redux from either of its two best players, and it can’t afford Matta losing faith in his bench

Ohio State has one trump card it could parlay into a Final Four berth, and that is the occasionally-suffocating defense it can play. Tapping into the energy on the bench keeps that asset at the ready.

And if Buford and Sullinger carry the offense at the other end, the Buckeyes will have a chance to not only win at Michigan, but crest a wave that could carry them a lot further.

Bruce Hooley hosts The Hooligans from 3-6 p.m. weekdays on ESPN 850 WKNR, Cleveland. www.espncleveland.com
Follow Bruce on Twitter @BHOOLZ
Email Bruce at hoolz@espncleveland.com