Baseball, really, is all about numbers

ON BASEBALL

I was at a slow-pitch softball tournament Wednesday night, so I wasn't surprised when I saw teams scoring 20-plus runs with ease.

When I walked over to the concession stand TV, however, and noticed that Major League Baseball's Texas Rangers had dropped 30 runs on the Baltimore Orioles, I was in shock.

Thirty runs? I knew ESPN statisticians would have a field day comparing that to various football scores... and Big Ten basketball scores — OK, just kidding (but, really, the Big Ten routinely plays games in the 40s).

But back to my point. It didn't matter that the Rangers (now 56-70 after completing the doubleheader sweep) are a pitiful team that hasn't been in the playoff race since April. No one cared that the game had close to no meaning for either team (the Orioles are a mediocre 58-67 — 17 games behind the Red Sox in the American League East).

Rather, late into the night baseball enthusiasts and historians alike were lauding the modern-day record for runs scored in a game. (The Chicago Colts — now the Cubs — scored 36 runs in 1897).

ESPN's Tim Kurkjian was on the verge of euphoria in describing the Rangers' feat. He was just one of many.

Yes, it was a special night for baseball.

A game that's all about the numbers.

What matters most
We can talk all we want about pennant races and the "intangibles," but nothing will ever take away baseball's moniker as a numbers sport.

How else can you explain the ridiculous coverage Barry Bonds' home run chase received this summer? Or even the attention paid to Chase Utley's hitting streak last year when he was still more than 20 games away from Joe DiMaggio's seemingly unbreakable record.

How else can you make sense of the attention paid to steroid use before these substances were proactively banned by commissioner Bud Selig. It's not like the Cream and the Clear were the reason the Marlins won the 2003 World Series. Rather, the use of such substances was ridiculed because baseball's sluggers (Mark McGuire, Sammy Sosa and Bonds, etc.) allegedly used them to break baseball's hallowed records.

Players like to say the only thing that matters is winning. And to a certain extent, they're right. But you couldn't look at Bonds' huge smile after No. 756 and believe that he would have exchanged breaking Hank Aaron's record for taking the San Francisco Giants back to the playoffs (coincidentally, the Giants — 55-72 — have been in last place of the National League West all season).

It's a numbers game, and always will be a numbers game.

There are so many statistics kept now, I can't even keep track. WHIP (whipped cream?). Not only OBP and SLG, but OPS (Online Packaging Service?).RC27... XBA... somebody get me a ginger ale, because I'm becoming dizzy.

While we recognize records in football and basketball, they don't receive close to the attention they do in America's Pastime. For instance, we know that Bonds' new record is the most hallowed in baseball, but what's the most revered mark in the other major sports?

Maybe you could say Wilt's 100 points in basketball, but even that's not clear cut. And I can't think of a particular football record that's always talked about. Sure, the all-time rushing record got a little attention when Emmitt Smith broke Walter Payton's mark, but let's not forget that Barry Sanders didn't even bother sticking around one more season to surpass "Sweetness."

I sure can't imagine Bonds hanging up the uniform 10 home runs shy of Hammering Hank. He probably would have played with one arm if he had to.

In the coming weeks, we'll move the Rangers' amazing feat to the rear of our minds' baseball compartment. We'll do likewise with Brandon Webb's 42-inning scoreless streak and instead focus on the Diamondbacks' improbable run to a division title. Pennant talk will dominate the airwaves.

But don't be naive to think that if another remarkable number is posted, it won't garner great attention.

It will. Whether it happens in April, August or October.

Because baseball — dating back to the days of the Chicago Colts — has always (and will always) be about the numbers.

Monday, 7/16/07's main point: Redding signing won't save Lions

ON FOOTBALL

The Detroit Lions like to do this.

They'll sign a player — that is, one body — and hype him as a player who can save the franchise.

Dre' Bly, Charles Rogers, Roy Williams, Mike Williams, Calvin Johnson, even Joey Harrington. And, of course, back in the 1990s, the great Barry Sanders. They've all been tabbed as "prime-time players," guys who can make a huge impact on the field. The Lions pay them "the money," or draft them very high with the hope that their investment will turn the losses into wins.

Um, well, this strategy hasn't worked.

But, apparently, that hasn't stopped Detroit from dealing. This morning arguably the worst franchise in the NFL — and some will say all pro sports — made Cory Redding the highest-paid defensive tackle in football with a seven-year, $49 million contract which includes $16 million in guarantees.

Good for the Lions. They now have a happy defensive tackle. But that's about it.

This is not a team that can afford to have happy, satisfied players on its front lines. We all know what has transpired since Shaun Rogers became the highest-paid DT after getting a six-year, $46 million contract. Yeah, last year he was banned four games for violating the league's substance abuse policy, and he just was mixed up in a strip club incident (although the charges were dropped).

A few players with big contracts aren't going to save the Lions. This franchise needs young, hungry guys who want to win. This franchise needs team guys, not guys with imbalanced contracts that could cause jealously or animosity in the locker room.

Quick, who had the best season last year for the Lions? How about wide receiver Mike Furrey, who was making $544,620, great money for any of us, but spending money for big-time athletes.

Based upon the season Redding had in 2006 (48 tackles, eight sacks) and his health (he played all 16 games each of the past three years), he's a good player to hold onto. But the Lions overextended themselves in giving into his contract demands. So what if he was threatening to hold out from training camp. If he followed through on that, then a team that's trying to find the right mix of guys to gain some sort of respect shouldn't want him.

Make him play another year as the franchise player. Tell him if he puts together another solid season, he'll be rewarded with a good (but not outrageous) contract at season's end. Heck, tell him his new deal will depend on how many victories the Lions salvage this season.

The Colts had every right to reward Dwight Freeney with a six-year, $72 million deal last week (the highest ever for a defensive player). They're the Super Bowl champions. He's the leader of their underrated defense. It made perfect sense.

The Lions, on the other hand, don't even belong in the same league as the Colts right now. So they shouldn't be paying the big bucks for individual players. Once they become a winner, fine.

Until then, they should focus on finding the right mix of dedicated, insatiable players to stop the late-night talk show hosts from making joke after joke about their franchise.