A Letter to Barry...

Dear Barry,

Thank you. Thank you for bringing winning baseball to my city, the city of San Francisco. Thank you for giving me so many moments to cherish and cheer the greatest game of all. And thank you for never wavering and never compromising yourself for the sake of others. That above all else is what I respect about you the most.

From day one you never pretended to be anything other than what you are, and that's a truly great ballplayer. Along the way you've brought more joy to the fans than you will ever know and as you pass the legendary Hank Aaron tonight with home run #756 the true fans congratulate you on a truly awesome accomplishment.

So many people talk about you and talk bad about you, but you already know that. They say you're a cheater and that the numbers you've put up could never have been accomplished without steroids. What they don't talk about is the 46 homers you hit in 1993, at Candlestick Park of all places, where it was near impossible to reach that number.

They also forget to mention that you've reached 756 in over 2,500 fewer at-bats than "The Hammer". They never talk about that fact that through the first 12 years of your career (1986-1997) you were hitting a home run every 16.23 at-bats, while Aaron averaged one every 17.79 at-bats over the first 12 years of his career.

Hank hit 47 homers at age 37, you hit 46 at that age. But of course everyone seems to think it's just not possible for a man that age to actually get better, of course they don't mention that was Aaron's career-high for home runs in a season. Everyone points to your magical 73 homer season and says something is not right, but of course no one thought it was wrong just three years earlier when two guys passed the 65 home run mark.

You say you want to keep playing, and I have to tell you that hearing you say that brings a smile to my face. I just hope you stay where you belong, in a Giants uniform with #25 on you back. But whatever you do you'll always be the greatest ballplayer I've ever seen and I'll support you until the end.

Sincerely,

Adam Doctolero

Thanks coach, for everything

When the San Francisco 49ers hired Bill Walsh to be their head coach just a year prior to my birth they shaped my life as a football fan before it even began. More importantly however they managed to impact my development as a person when they hired the man known simply as "The Genius". I'll get to that in a little bit, but this is a sports blog and the football has to come first.

Growing up in the Bay Area there was only one certainty in the sports world, and that was that the Niners were going to make a run at the Super Bowl every year. The cast of characters were impressive and included names like Montana, Rice, Craig, Lott and so on. But it was always Walsh who stirred the drink and allowed all those great players to work as the finely tuned machine that they were during the 80's.

I'll be the first to admit that I grew up a spoiled football fan and given how bad my beloved San Francisco Giants were during that time ('87 and '89 not withstanding) I always felt like I deserved to have one of my teams dominate. Had it not been for Walsh's brilliance I might have grown up even more jaded and sarcastic than I already am. Trust me, no one that knows me wants that.

Everyone knows about the West Coast Offense and Walsh's ability as a play-caller and game-planner, but in a strictly football sense his eye for talent may have been what set him apart and kept the Niners so good for so long.

Montana and Rice are easy, but consider the cast of complimentary players that Walsh hand picked throughout the years. Guys like Dwight Clark(10th round), Eric Wright(2nd round), Jesse Sapolu(11th round), Guy McIntyre(3rd round), Charles Haley(4th round), Tom Rathman(3rd round), John Taylor(3rd round) and Bill Romanowski(3rd round).

It was the ability to build teams and not just collections of individuals that made Walsh stand out in my eyes and was the biggest reason why even after he retired from his post as head coach of the Niners the team kept going back to him for advice.

Of course players weren't the only thing Walsh had an eye for, he also mentored and developed a long line of coaches that continue to have an impact on the NFL today. Mike Homgren, Dennis Green, Jim Fassel, Andy Reid, Mike Shanahan, Jon Gruden, Tony Dungy, Brad Childress, all of them come from the vaunted Walsh coaching tree which will only continue to grow as the years go by.

Three Super Bowls and an immeasurable impact on the way the NFL game is played today will be Walsh's lasting impact on football fans everywhere, but for this son of the Bay Area his influence runs deeper.

My dad is a coach, and even though he hasn't strolled the sidelines in years, he will always be a coach. Now anyone who grew up with a coach for a father knows that the coaching philosophy employed by dad will invariably creep into the countless lessons about life passed down to the son.

This was absolutely the case in my house as the majority of my childhood was spent tagging along at practice, watching the game on Saturday and Sunday mornings and generally soaking up all the knowledge that dads tend to give when they spend time with their sons. The man is my best friend, lets just say we've spent quite a bit of time with each other in my 27 years on this earth.

My dad makes no secret of the fact that as a coach he was influenced greatly by Walsh as he attended Walsh's "Coach of the Year" clinics, and being the studious man that he is let no lesson pass him by.

I didn't know it at the time, but many of the life lessons I received from dad growing up came straight from Walsh in a not so round about way. Lessons about organization, hard work, attention to detail and the importance of punctuality and preparedness were all things I simply picked up from watching my dad go about his daily business. It took me years to realize that those lessons were the real genius of Walsh's teachings, and the X's and O's of football simply took care of themselves as a wonderful byproduct.

Now this is not to say that my dad didn't embody these traits to begin with, but through the hours of discussion we've had about the game of football it's become clear that Walsh's influence on him in no small way influenced me as well.

He could of course never know how much he impacted my life, but like all great coaches that's exactly what he did. I never met the man, but I feel like I've always known him and now that he's gone I simply wanted to say thank you to an exceptional coach and an even better man.

Okay Phil, You've Won

Phil Mickelson is the 2006 Masters champion, and as much as I can't believe I'm going to say this, I am very happy for the guy.

Lefty has long been one of my least favorite athletes for many reasons. That cheesy grin that never seems to leave his face. Triple bogey, eagle, Vijay's spike marks; it never leaves. That country club air about him. The clean cut (until recently), visor-wearing look that forces you to remember just who it is golf at a place like Augusta is really for. On top of that I am a die-hard Tiger fan and I never like to see my guy go down, especially to Mr. Grinny.


But something happened yesterday during Phil's march toward his second green jacket, I found myself pulling for a guy I've rooted against for so long. Why was this happening? Had I completely lost it? Had Tiger's pink shirt (seriously Tiger, get back to the red already) blinded me to the point that I had to pull for anyone wearing black? I asked myself these questions, and the only answer I could come up with was no. In fact it was completely the opposite. As Tiger and the rest of the field slipped too far back to mount a charge I started to appreciate Lefty and the genius of his game. I didn't pay attention to the stupid grin, I saw past the unbearable lily white-ness of his being. All I could see was his game, and damn he has a lot of it.


Gone was the Phil that choked down the stretch. Gone was the Phil who seemed to always miss key putts and make the big mistake. Instead, the "old Phil" was replaced with a guy who boldly carried two drivers in order to hit perfectly shaped bombs off the tee at the perpetually growing Augusta National Golf Club. A guy who you knew was going to make good decisions and sink clutch putts. It was becoming clear. I was pulling for a guy that I knew deserved to win because of the substance of his talent, and in spite of all the qualities that caused me to root against him in the past. As he tapped in for bogey and the win I could only watch and smile. In the past I probably would have shut the thing off before he even got to the 18th hole, bemoaning Tiger's inability to make any putts. This time however I wanted to see the guy win and hug those ridiculously cute kids of his. I even wanted to see my guy slip the green jacket on the new champ. I could finally see why those blue collar, New York fans at Bethpage pulled so hard for the guy back at the 2002 U.S. Open. While I think it was mostly because he's not Tiger and people like to pull for someone other than the favorite, I understand. It's not about who he is, it's about what he is. A great golfer, who for all his faults plays an entertaining style of golf, period.

Then he did it, he sealed the deal on my newfound respect for and outlook on Phil Mickelson. As he stood in front of the people and received the green jacket from Tiger he took the mic and began to thank those closest to him (he did forget to mention his caddy, but I'll forgive him this time). Once he had thanked all those who deserved it, he turned his attention to an issue that he had no obligation to, he addressed Earl Woods. In one of the biggest moments of his career, Phil took time to ask the patrons of Augusta National to pray for Tiger's dad who has been fighting cancer for several years. He acknowledged the importance of family and parents in the lives of their children and their development, and Phil found time in his champions speech to give a nod to the job done by Mr. Woods. He wrapped up his speech and sat down next to the number one player in the world. Phil tapped Tiger on the leg, Tiger returned the gesture in appreciation of Phil's compassionate remarks. In maybe the classiest move I've ever seen in a moment like that, Phil won himself a new fan. All I can say is well done Lefty, well done.