Jamie Moyer HAS played a long time

I was reading this piece on Jamie Moyer over at Seamheads and was struck by a remarkable occurrence, prompted by a tidbit I hadn't remembered: Moyer was one of the players who went with Rafael Palmeiro to the Rangers in the deal that brought Mitch Williams to Chicago. Palmeiro, like Moyer, came up in 1986, but he's now been retired five years and is on the Hall of Fame ballot.

So now get this: Should Roberto Alomar or Jeff Bagwell be elected when the results are announced in January, both players will have started and finished their careers and been elected to the Hall of Fame within the span of Moyer's career. That is, those players debuted after Moyer did (1988 for Alomar, 1991 for Bagwell), retired before he did (2004 for Alomar, 2005 for Bagwell) and were elected before Moyer's retirement. Even though the results are announced in January and the players are inducted in July 2011, the voting takes place in 2010. And even if Moyer's last Major League pitch came on July 20, 2010, he still pitched in the year of election for those players (should they get in). Of course, if Moyer comes back as he hopes in 2012, that will make this whole exercise that much easier.

In any case, it's pretty crazy that a player's career could see its genesis in the form of a Major League debut, conclusion with retirement and denouement in induction to the Hall of Fame. But it's happened before.

Nolan Ryan played in more seasons, 27, than any player in history. He debuted with the Mets in 1966 and retired with the Rangers in 1993, throwing his last pitch on Sept. 22, 1993. In between, five players came, went and were enshrined. Ryan's Mets teammate Tom Seaver debuted in 1967, last pitched in 1986 and was inducted in 1992; Johnny Bench came up in '67, retired in '83 and was inducted in '89; Rod Carew came on the scene in '67, retired in '85 and went into Cooperstown in 1991; Reggie Jackson debuted in '67, retired in '87 and received his plaque in '93; and finally, Rollie Fingers threw his first pitch in 1968, retired in 1985 and went into the Hall with Seaver in '92.

This is by no means a definitive list (for one thing, Roberto Clemente's untimely death and the waiver of the five-year waiting period that allowed his induction in 1973 meant that Hall of Famers Willie Mays, Al Kaline, Harmon Killebrew and Hank Aaron all debuted before Clemente and were still playing the summer of his induction), but it's pretty remarkable that the careers of some players, like Moyer or Ryan, can span the career and induction of others.

You snooze, you lose -- and miss Hughes

Those grand plans I laid out last week -- four games in four ballparks in four days -- never came to be. I made it halfway, unable to raise myself out of bed on Tuesday morning to hit the road (and figuring four hours of sleep before a late-night shift in charge of the room would not be a good career move), but bounced back on Wednesday to see Phil Hughes' rehab start for the Trenton Thunder. Thursday would be another cop-out because I stayed home to help my dad and uncle install the ceiling fans we'd asked them to take care of for us.

Hughes is still a prospect, a rookie with just two Major League starts in his career, but his appearance in Trenton was as big as the rehab appearances made previously by Bernie Williams, Hideki Matsui, Derek Jeter and others. OK, maybe not as big as Jeter's, but it was an event. It was a Wednesday afternoon, a park filled with summer camp kids, but the media turned out in force. Or something close to it.

The big right-hander looked good, recovering after a rough first inning to cruise into the fifth. By then, the heat and humidity had chased me into the press box for a break, and I happened to be standing directly over the center of home plate to get a perfect view as Hughes snapped off a majestic curveball to freeze a helpless Binghamton Mets batter for strike three. At the lower levels of the minor leagues, the good pitchers tend to make most hitters look silly at times. But as they move up the ladder, only the better pitching prospects consistently baffle the hitters to such an extent.

Hughes' rehab appearance and the opponent meant that the two most powerful general managers in baseball were sitting in adjoining rows behind the plate -- Omar Minaya and an assistant or two were seated directly in front of Brian Cashman and his crew. Minaya managed to look cool in a long-sleeved dress shirt and canvas cap; Cashman seemed to be roasting in jeans, a polo shirt and what appeared to be a pair of $7.99 sunglasses from Target. Reggie Jackson was also there, but I missed him -- probably because he stayed a bit closer to the action.

But after a late night at work and another shift that evening, I had to head home and work in a nap before departing for the city, so once Hughes' day at the ballpark was finished, so was mine. I drove home just as a few raindrops began falling on Waterfront Park, and I disengaged the cruise control on the Turnpike when the deluge began.

It didn't turn into the week I envisioned, but the two games were worth it -- and they satisfied my happy feet for the moment. I've yet to make the time to get the photos online, but again, when I do, there will be some samples here.

This week has been about big-league ball, with the Mets home again and playing well. We went out to Shea on Tuesday and I'm up bright and early tomorrow for the nooner against the Pirates. Taking mom for her birthday. More on Shea later.

Reggie strikes out with A's one last time

I had no idea that Reggie Jackson attempted to by the Oakland Athletics. It's a shame it didn't happen — is there a better way to promote baseball than to have its first black majority owner be a Hall of Famer returning to own a team he once played for?

It's not that Reggie was outbid for the franchise that retired his number last year; he wasn't given a fair shot at making an offer. In May, the commissioner's office told Jackson to sit tight and he'd be given a chance to make a bid. They didn't give him that chance until December, at which time the current owners of the Athletics had already reached a deal with Lewis Wolff, the Los Angeles real estate developer who will become the team's new owner. Wolff is currently the vice president for venue development for the team. That is, he's been trying to figure out where to get the A's a new stadium, and apparently he's still going to do that in the Bay Area.

But what really makes this whole deal stink is that Wolff is not just an acquaintance of "commissioner" Bud Selig, he's his freakin' fraternity brother. Do you think Wolff, in his efforts to find a place to build a new stadium for the A's, will look for anything but a publicly financed venue? Would Bud accept anything less?

The thing is, Bud's done this before. Remember contraction? One team involved, the Montreal Expos, was eventually "sold" to the other 29 owners and moved to Washington, D.C., two years later than it could have been because Bud wanted to make sure he gave Orioles owner Peter Angelos enough of a sweetheart deal.

The other team was the Minnesota Twins, a small-market club that, in the three seasons since the C-word was first uttered, have finished ... um, wait, let me look it up here ... Ah, yes: First, first and first, with records of 94-67, 90-72 and 92-70 from 2002-2004. Why the Twins? Perhaps because the owner, Carl Pohlad, is a dear, close friend of Bud (also mentioned in the Nightengale column in the previous link) and would have stood to receive a nice "contraction package," no doubt worth more than the team might bring were it put up for sale.

It's a shame the way things go down sometimes.