Friday Rewind: This Too Shall Pass
I need a little time to reflect before I can fully write about the extraordinary impact and titanic life of Jim Brown, who died today. Obviously, being from Cleveland, I grew up on the legend of Jim Brown. I heard his story from everyone. I’m going to take a beat to think things through and have something on him for you this weekend.
OK, you definitely don’t want to hear this, but I need to offer an explanation why the Friday Rewind is a bit later and a bit shorter than normal. I woke up at 5 a.m. this morning with a bad stomachache. It was not cool. After a little while, the pain moved from my stomach to my lower back, and I immediately knew what that meant. It meant two of the scariest words in the English language.
Kidney stones.
It has been several years since I dealt with kidney stones — I think I wrote about it back then — but you never forget that feeling. The pain grew steadily worse … and worse … and worse … until finally, I said to Margo: “Uh, yeah, we probably should go to the ER.”
We did. I can’t fully describe just how painful kidney stones are — those of you who have dealt with them already know. Let’s just say I was dry heaving from the pain. But there’s a happy point here to make. So I got to the hospital, and the people there were super nice, and a doctor came in right away and said, “Let me give you a medicine for the pain.”
A few minutes later (I was in such distress at that moment that when people tried to talk to me, all I heard was like Charlie Brown’s teacher: “Wah wah wah” sounds), they gave me some pain medication.
And the pain went away instantly.
I mean INSTANTLY.
This was odd. I’ve had kidney stones three times in my life. The last time was brutal, but the first time was some otherworldly torture. That time, the nurse came in and said, “Let me give you some pain medication.” She gave me morphine, I think, and then she left the room so I could get a little sleep.
The morphine did NOTHING. I mean ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. The pain only increased. When she returned, she (a bit too jovially) asked: “How are you doing?”
And I said, “Um, I’m in the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. Can you give me some pain medication?” And she was stupefied. They gave me some other pain medication, that didn’t work, either, and then a third one, and finally my pain subsided. I said, “Well, that third one must be good stuff because it did the trick.” And the nurse said, “Nah, you must have passed the stone; there was nothing we could do to control the pain.”
So when the pain instantly went away this time, I thought: “Why didn’t they give me this stuff that first time?” But as it turned out, no, the pain medication wasn’t what did the trick. Apparently, I passed the stone (into my bladder) at the exact time that they gave me the medication. Super weird. But super great.
Here’s the main point about kidney stones: When you are in the throes of their savagery, there is no greater pain. I mean, yeah, I’m sure there’s greater pain in lots of things — like childbirth, hello? — but I’ve never felt greater pain.
But once they pass? It’s like they never happened. I’m totally fine now.
WHY WE LOVE BASEBALL Update
So, our first review is in. It comes from the good people at Kirkus, which reviews something like 10,000 books every year. Often, if you check out a book online at Amazon or Barnes & Noble or someplace like that, you will see a Kirkus Review there, along with other book review magazines such as Publisher’s Weekly, Booklist, Bookpage and so on.
My general philosophy as an author is not to put much stock in reviews. Through the years, reviewers have been very kind to me for the most part, and I’m super-grateful for that, but I’ve always felt like if I take those positive reviews too much to heart, then I have to do the same for the negative and nasty ones, which isn’t healthy for anybody.
Still, I have to say that there’s something special about the earliest reviews, before the book comes out, because they are the first bit of public feedback that you get for this very private thing that you have put every part of yourself into creating.
The Kirkus review, in that way, was just so uplifting and wonderful. First, it is a starred review, which is a very special thing, only like 10% of all books Kirkus reviews are starred (and starred reviews are automatically eligible for the Kirkus Prize, one of the top literary awards around. Basically, it means they really liked it.
And beyond the star, the review — which I’ve seen, though it doesn’t go online until next week — very much captures the spirit of what I was trying to do with the book. I’ll link the review when it comes out, but I will share the line that ends the review: “A book for any baseball fan to cherish.” That’s awesome. Thanks, Kirkus.
I’m just so excited for everybody to see this book.
As you probably know, you can preorder the book now pretty much everywhere. And wherever you preorder the book, be sure to save the receipt (or screenshot it). I can’t go into details yet, but everyone who preorders, no matter from where, will get a super-cool bonus that I think you’ll love.
But, of course, our main focus continues to be the special preorder campaign at Rainy Day Books. Preorder the book from Rainy Day by Father’s Day, June 18, and I will not only sign it, but I will also inscribe it with anything you like. To give you an idea of the sorts of inscriptions requests we are getting, well, here’s one:
“Cold fruit, hot fruit — that Schur guy is a nut. I love Derek Jeter unreservedly and whisper my secrets to his portrait on my wall.”
Mike Schur has made it clear that I CANNOT sign the book that way and live with myself. Maybe he’s right. But, you know, it’s also possible Mike is saying that because our whole goal here is beating Mike’s Rainy Day presale record. We must not let him distract us from that goal. Order liberally. Here’s the link:
Acuña matata
As I write these words, Ronald Acuña Jr. is on pace* to do this:
Play in all 162 games
Hit .345/.437/.613
Bang 46 doubles and 42 home runs
Steal 69 bases
Knock 224 hits, score 154 runs, drive in 104 runs
*Every time I write the words “on pace,” somewhere in the world, Tom Tango grimaces.
That seems like a pretty good season, right? I love that Acuña is doing all this and reminding us just how awesome he is. In 2019, the guy hit 41 homers and led the league in stolen bases and he was just 21 then and the future seemed utterly unlimited. Then came the COVID season, then he had a fantastic half-season that was marred by injury, and then last year, he was injured but also oddly flat. His power was down. He got caught stealing a lot. There was this nagging feeling that maybe he wouldn’t be the magical player we all hoped for.
And then this season, yes, he’s doing the Eric Davis thing. So wonderful.
Hey, if you feel like it, I’d love if you’d share this post with your friends!
Oakland C-minuses
OK, so don’t look now, but it looks like maybe Las Vegas is not super-excited about getting the Oakland A’s. According to this story, Nevada lawmakers are only comfortable to come up with about half of the $395 million that the A’s are looking for … and they’re not super-thrilled about how the team can’t seem to make up its mind about where in Vegas they want to play.
I’ve been skeptical for a long time about baseball in Las Vegas. Maybe it works out in the end, I mean, there’s a whole lot of money and a whole lot of tourism in Sin City, obviously. But when you think about all that Vegas already has, and when you think about the excitement that the inevitable NBA team will bring, I’m just not sure there’s going to be an overwhelming amount of enthusiasm for bringing in Tony Kemp and the fellas.
Meaning no offense to Tony Kemp.
I suspect that in the end, they’ll make it work in Vegas. But it’s becoming more and more clear that the city of Oakland actually wants the A’s a lot more than Vegas does. If this were a teen romcom, Oakland would take off its glasses or something, and the team would realize that, what do you know, their true love was actually their best friend. Alas, life is not a teen romcom, and the A’s will end up with James Spader, because he’s richer.
Can’t beat the real thing
I was thinking about Coca Nikola for the headline but even I wouldn’t stoop that low into the pun game … or would I?
In his last 10 playoff games, Denver’s Nikola Jokić is averaging — AVERAGING — 34 points, 14 rebounds and 11 assists per game.
I don’t even know what to say … on Thursday night he had probably the worst game I’ve seen him play. And he scored 23 points, grabbed 17 rebounds and dished out 12 assists. Repeat: That was probably the worst gave I’ve seen him play.
He makes me so unbelievably happy.
A pitcher’s best friend!
Washington’s Keibert Ruiz had grounded into 10 doubles plays in just 37 games. That’s already a career-high, and if he can somehow keep it up, he would have a real chance to break one of baseball’s oldest and most cherished records: Jim Rice’s 36 doubles plays in 1984.
The record has been seriously challenged only once in the last 39 years … and it was by Jim Rice in 1985, when he hit into 35 double plays (in only 140 games!). Billy Butler in 2010 gave it a good run but fell three double plays short.
Double plays are down from the mid-1980s, when Jim Rice was at his tailor-made peak — baseball has many fewer singles now than it did then — but Ruiz is one of several players hitting into twin-killings at a nice clip.
Keibert Ruiz has hit into 10 (previous career-high, 9).
Atlanta’s Austin Riley has hit into 9 (career-high 13).
The Angels’ Hunter Renfroe has hit into 9 (career-high 11).
Miami’s Jean Segura has hit into 9 (career-high 17, twice).
San Diego’s Manny Machado has hit into 9 (career high, 26).
Machado is the player with the best pedigree for going after the record — in addition his 26-double-play season, he led the league with 24 GIDPs in 2019 — but I do like Ruiz’s fast start.
JoeBlogs Week in Review
I’m going to skip the Bottoms Up Rankings this week because, you know, I spent the morning writhing in pain. But they’ll be back soon enough.
Monday: An Indelible Image. We talked about the death of Don Denkinger and went around baseball … also included a poll asking readers if I should throw out the first pitch for the Charlotte Knights Joe-nanza. At last check, 96% of you voted yes, but I’m still waiting for Palm Beach County before I concede. If I do it, should I wear a GoPro and take you inside that first pitch?
Tuesday: Brilliant Reader Challenge. I took on the Brilliant Reader Challenge to find players who had very short careers but who, in alternate universes, are superstars. Since I wrote this, more than 100 of you have come up with your own challenges, which are awesome. This will be a fun series.
Wednesday: The New York Mess. They’ve won both games they played since I wrote this so … you’re welcome, Mets fans.
Thursday: How Two Magicians Solved Baseball’s Unsolvable Problem. This one was so much fun. I have been wondering how much JoeBlogs Readers would like for me to do more reported pieces like this one. My impression is that you liked it … and I think I’m going to start a new limited series called “Dreamers,” where I write about, um, dreamers. You’ll see.
Of course, as always, I’d love for you to subscribe to JoeBlogs. We’re doing a lot of fun stuff here, and more is on the way. And hey, if you sign up now, I’ll give you an extra 20% off.
Thank you so much for singling out my requested inscription. I heard it on the Poscast and that was a thrill, having it be put into an entry here....all I can do is blush. It took a few minutes to figure out how to fit it into the character limit, so thank you for recognizing it.
To be clear, in no way do I feel this excuses you from having to write it, but I do appreciate you mentioning it specifically.
Many of your posts remind me of Brian Regan bits. Here’s one not dissimilar to your recent experience:
The nurse says, “how would you rate your pain?”
“Four stars. Two enthusiastic thumbs up!” She goes, “how would you rate it on a scale of one to ten with ten being the worst?” Well, you know saying a low number isn’t going to help you. “Oh, I’m a two… maybe the high one’s. If you could get me a baby aspirin and cut it in half, maybe a Flinstone vitamin and I’ll be out of your hair. You can go tend to all the threes and fours and such, if anyone’s saying such ridiculous numbers.” I couldn’t bring myself to say ten though, because I had heard that the worst pain a human can endure is getting the femur bone cracked in half. I don’t know if that’s true, but, I thought, if it is, they have exclusive rights to ten. And now I’m thinking, “what was I worried about? Is there like a femur ward in the hospital. They would have heard about me and hobbled into my room.” “Who the hell… had the AUDACITY… to say he was at a level ten?!? You know nothing about ten. Give me a sledgehammer, and let me show you what ten is all about, Mr. Tummy-ache!”
How could I possibly… I can’t. So I thought, “I’ll say nine. Then I thought, no, childbirth. I better not try to compete with that.” And then I’m thinking, “you know what must be hell? Giving childbirth when your femur bone’s cracked in half.”
So I said, “I guess I’m an eight.” She goes, “OK, I’ll be back.” I’m like, “aw, I blew it. I ain’t getting nothing with eight.” But she surprised me, she comes in, she goes me, “the doctor told me to give you morphine immediately.” So then I’m like, “morphine?? That’s the stuff they gave the guy in Saving Private Ryan just before he died…”