Ryan Howard looks back

Looking back on his time in Lakewood

As a Mets fan, it's tough to see Ryan Howard do well. As a baseball fan, it's a treat.

The big man (who, to this point, has managed to avoid a nickname that's stuck, as far as I know) is a bonafide superstar and a personable fellow who always gave me the comments I needed, both in 2002 as a developing first baseman with the BlueClaws and in the few times I've run into him since.

Last night in Lakewood, I took the night off, attending the game as a fan as his number was retired and he got three at-bats in a rehab start for the BlueClaws. It was Howard's second appearance at FirstEnergy Park since reaching the Major Leagues; in 2007, he played in two rehab games, including an 11 a.m. start I attended. Afterward, Howard joked that he couldn't remember the last time he had woken up so early.

This appearance was a more common 7:05 p.m. start, delayed a few minutes by the pregame ceremony to retire the No. 29 that Howard wore in 2002 and again last night. (In his 2007 rehab, he wore his Major League No. 6, which I saw on a fan in the stands.) His mother and brother were on hand and the No. 29 was unveiled on the center-field wall, to the right of center, far enough to the side to be clear of the batter's eye.

Part of what I love about Ryan Howard is that he remains a humble man. Yes, he's made a few contract demands in his time in Philadelphia, but other than that, you don't see any showboating from him, no showing up opponents and no grandstanding. He's one of the few Phillies who come to mind who (as far as I know) hasn't taken shots at the Mets on the radio or at victory parades or dropped f-bombs on live television (twice, Mr. Utley). I'm not saying he needs to be accomodating to his opponents, but he certainly treats them with respect, not only during the game, but afterward as well. He just lets his play speak for itself, not seeing any need to supplement it with verbal digs.

This graciousness has shown through during both of the rehab games I've seen him play in Lakewood. I've seen other established Major Leaguers back in the minors, most recently Shane Victorino and Carlos Delgado 10 days ago at Triple-A Lehigh Valley, but I haven't seen any of them interact and become one of the boys as much as Howard seems to do. That's not to say that Victorino, Delgado, John Maine, Robinson Cano, Phil Hughes and Derek Jeter have been standoffish or aloof, or even that the circumstances were the same. It just seems to me that Howard has gone out of his way to just blend in as one of the guys when he's been back in Lakewood -- even if he stands out as a big, hulking anomaly.

Case in point: in the big leagues, Howard is among the pajama-pantsed set. In Lakewood, he walks the high-socks walk with the rest of the BlueClaws. And he did in 2007, too.

Howard admitted last night that Lakewood "holds a special place" in his heart, so perhaps that's why he seems so at ease when he returns. And, of course, there's no guarantee he'll make it back again before the end of his career, which is why it was nice that it worked out so well last night. The BlueClaws had originally planned to retire his number on Sept. 2, an off-day for the Phillies and my birthday, on which I'll be flying to Chicago and wouldn't have been able to attend. But when it was announced that the Phillies and Rockies would make up a rainout that day in Colorado, Lakewood had to postpone the retirement ceremony. It worked out for them when Howard went on the DL with his ankle injury and the Phillies gave him to Lakewood for one night of rehab.

Howard's appearance may have kept Greensboro's Chad James from history. The hard-throwing left-hander (he was in the mid-90s in the first inning) came into the game with a 3-9 record and 5.32 ERA. He did not allow a hit until the sixth, when Howard crushed an opposite-field double to left-center, driving the ball over the outfielders' heads to score Leandro Castro. In Howard's two previous at-bats against James, he walked and grounded out to second as the Grasshoppers employed the drastic shift, putting the shortstop behind second base and the second baseman in short right field. James finished with six innings, one hit allowed, five walks and three strikeouts. He improved to 4-9 and lowered that ERA to 5.09. Two 'Hoppers (I have no idea if they're called that) relievers allowed just one more hit and two more walks in a 4-1 win.

Lakewood manager Mark Parent sent in a pinch-runner after that double, allowing Howard to jog off the field to a standing ovation and ending his night after three at-bats. He's scheduled to play for Triple-A Lehigh Valley tonight and could be back with the Phillies on Sunday. Last night may very well have been the last time a Lakewood BlueClaw will don No. 29 -- unless Howard has another rehab appearance somewhere down the line.

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

Photo flashback: Present and future Phillies

Jonathan Villar

On a gorgeous spring day, Casey and I and a friend from work drove down to Philly to see the home team down the Cardinals, 7-2, with Roy Halladay on the mound. (RIP, Robin Roberts.) From there, we made our way over to the Jersey Shore (area) to see the Lakewood BlueClaws top the Charleston RiverDogs by the same 7-2 score.

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.


Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

Farewell to "MVP 55"

A quick memory of Johnny Podres, who died over the weekend at 75:

Summer of 2001, I'm driving down to Lakewood, N.J., to cover the BlueClaws in a game that night. On the Garden State Parkway, I pass a Cadillac or Lincoln or some other luxury car type that's common with grandfathers. Think Jerry Seinfeld's dad on the show. In this instance, the New York plates on the bumper read "MVP 55." Clearly a personalized tag, I try to catch a glimpse of the driver, but can't really make him out. The rest of the drive, I'm trying to remember if I have any idea who the MVPs in 1955 could have been. (Roy Campanella and Yogi Berra, by the way, and I think I got Berra, but I knew he lives in New Jersey.) Remembering that Podres continued to be a Spring Training instructor with the Phillies, I wondered if that could be him, heading down to visit their lower Class-A team.

Down at the ballpark, I'm making my pregame rounds of the clubhouse and walk into manager Greg Legg's office.

"Dan, have you met Johnny Podres?" Legg asks me.

A gracious and funny interviewee, Podres, of course, makes it into my notebook that day and I check off another baseball legend I've met on my mental roster.

Here's that notebook entry:

THRILL RIDE: Johnny Podres, the 1955 World Series MVP for the Brooklyn Dodgers, remembers riding the Cyclones' namesake.

"When I got to Brooklyn, I went over to Coney Island and rode the Cyclone," said Podres, who works for the Phillies as a part-time roving pitching instructor. "We were sitting right in the front. What a ride."

While a short-season Class A team back in the borough does have historical interest, it won't be quite the same, Podres said.

"It's not gonna be like Brooklyn," Podres said while discussing curveball grips with Lakewood pitching coach Rod Nichols in the clubhouse Saturday. "At least it gives them a team in Brooklyn. They've got their foot in the door, you wonder what can happen from there. But I doubt it."

Orioles-Nationals gate comparison No. 3

Yesterday in New Jersey, there was a promotion at the ballpark.

It was August in April day at Lakewood's FirstEnergy Park. I went to the 11 a.m. game against the Hagerstown Suns (how appropriate) in near-90-degree weather and was glad to put the sunscreen on. Even on an April Humpday, Lakewood drew 4,010 fans. (Unfortunately, the New Jersey team's four-year stranglehold on South Atlantic League attendance titles is in jeopardy with the long-needed new ballpark in Greensboro outdrawing the BlueClaws by 400 fans a game. Though once we get into summer at the Jersey Shore, that could change. Greensboro, though, doesn't have as much lawn seating, or as attractive GA locations as Lakewood.)

So maybe I'll have two sets of attendance wars to follow this summer.

Meanwhile, down around the Beltway...

Wednesday
Baltimore vs. Boston: 36,478 (the Red Sox will bring crowds)
Washington vs. Atlanta: 27,374

Thursday
Baltimore vs. Boston: 40,419
Washington vs. Atlanta: 30,728 (this for a day game)

Baseball Summit I

I'm not doing a good job with the idea of posting timely updates here, that's for sure. It's Thursday, five days after a doubleheader I undertook involving four teams in three leagues in two ballparks in two boroughs in the same day. It's four days after a third game in two days in a third park in another state.

When Mets tickets went on sale online in February, I logged on to get mine for Opening Day, as usual, but those were the second set of tickets I sought. The first were for July 3: Mets-Yankees, Shea Stadium, Fox television. I invited Matt and Brad up from D.C. and offered the fourth ticket to Dave, who's been going to Opening Day games with me for five years. We arrived before noon and wandered around the field level seats during Mets batting practice, which went longer -- or at least later -- than usual because the Yankees either elected to skip it or took it at their own stadium. They didn't need it, that's for sure.

At some point Friday night or Saturday morning, I made a prediction to Brad that we were in for a slugfest, a 10-8 final. The starters were Matt Ginter and Jose Contreras, so it wasn't a stretch to think that the bullpens would be a factor in this one. I'm one to think that Contreras' Yankee Stadium start against the Mets was more an aberration than an indicator of things to come.

It was a fabulous game, and I can say that because the Mets eeked out a 10-9 win in the ninth on a bases-loaded dribbler by Shane Spencer. But with five home runs (two by Tony Clark, one each by Cliff Floyd, Ty Wiggington and Richard Hidalgo) and three lead changes, the cheers went back and forth. I love the Subway Series games because you hear 100 percent fan participation on those late-inning full-count pitches with runners in scoring position. Bases loaded, two out, top of the ninth, 3-2 count on Jorge Posada, and the Yankee fans are cheering for a hit or a walk, the Mets fans for a strikeout.

When John Franco throws a second straight change up down and in at the knees, right where the previous pitch was called a strike, and Posada takes it for called strike three, it's the Mets fans who become louder.

I'm now 2-1 in Mets wins against the Yankees, all at Shea. If you count the April 1989 exhibition game I saw, it's 2-2, but I won't count that until I can find a box score for it. As it stands now, it was my 90th major league game and Clark's two home runs moved him past Piazza into the lead in games I've attended. He's got five now, the other three coming during the three-game Tigers-Red Sox series I attended at the old Tiger Stadium in 1999.

There was no way we were leaving Shea early, and we managed to get to the subway quickly enough that the platform wasn't packed and neither was our car. Six stops later, we transfered to the F and settled in for what would be a nearly 75-minute sojourn through Queens, Manhattan and Brooklyn to the end of the line at Coney Island, arriving at 7 p.m. for what we thought was a 5 p.m. Brooklyn Cyclones game. When I handed Brad the ticket, he noticed that I was wrong and the game started at 6, so we made it in the bottom of the third.

KeySpan Park is in a wonderful setting, just west of the heart of Coney Island. The cool breezes come off the ocean, and the ballpark -- particularly the outfield bleachers, where we sat -- smell sweetly of salt air and sand. Behind the metal stands in right-center sits the tower for the old parachute ride and the beach. The lights atop their towers are encircled with neon, mimicking the artificial daylight along the boardwalk just steps away.

Intent on grabbing grub at the Old Town Bar in Union Square, we ducked out in the 10th inning after Brooklyn plated two runs in the ninth to tie the game and grabbed hot dogs and fries at Nathan's, because we had to. It's famous.

On Sunday, after Brad boarded Independence Air to head back to Washington, Matt and I headed down to Little Silver for a Fourth of July barbecue at my uncle's. We stepped inside now and then to catch the Mets score, and I watched as Ty Wiggington fielded Alex Rodriguez' weak grounder to complete the sweep. THE SWEEP! As a co-worker -- and Yankee fan -- told me yesterday, the Bombers' backers won't admit it (they'll brush it off), but it was a demoralizing sweep. To the Mets.

From the barbecue, we went to Lakewood along with Casey, Kerry and my sister and watched Lexington's Beau Hearod hit two monster home runs to left field as the Legends rolled to an 8-1 victory over the BlueClaws on Fireworks Night.

Last week, when I learned I had Monday off, I considered extending the trip a day and a ballpark, driving to Philadelphia for the Mets-Phillies game on Monday night. But then that would've included a two-hour drive (with no traffic) up the New Jersey Turnpike at the end of a holiday weekend, and I was already tired from two afternoons in the sun and lots of traveling around New York City and New Jersey. So we saved Philadelphia, perhaps for later this summer.

Perhaps for the pennant race.