Long Lost Brouthers

I've written about this story a couple times here in the past few years, but its origins actually go back about 25 years.

My second summer job during my high school and college years was always umpiring local baseball games. During one of those summers, I was working a Little League All-Star game in a neighboring town to mine, at a field I didn't even know existed.

It just so happens the field was called Brouthers Field, which didn't mean anything to me until I arrived and discovered a monument to 19th-century slugger and Hall of Famer Dan Brouthers (pronounced Brew-thers). Now, I'm quite sure I was only vaguely aware of Brouthers at the time, and I certainly had no idea he was born and raised in the county where I grew up.

But, I was pretty sure my good friend Joe knew of him. This is the same Joe who currently chairs SABR's Overlooked 19th Century Baseball Legends Project. But, Joe wasn't even aware of SABR's existence back then, I don't think. He was just a college kid like me, but one with an unusual interest in, and incredible knowledge of, baseball history.

Joe and I were just becoming really good friends around that time, so I was just becoming acquainted with his encyclopedic knowledge. [Years later, he would point out errors in individual players' counting stats, as displayed in the Baseball Hall of Fame.] We were friends through mutual friends for years, but it was during breaks from college that we discovered our shared obsession with baseball. As our friends would drink $1 Heinekens at happy hour at a place called Bertie's in Poughkeepsie, we would annoy said friends by challenging each other with obscure trivia questions...while drinking $1 Heinekens*, of course. I'd say Joe had about a 55-45 advantage in those days, but I held my own.

*A quarter century or so later, I suppose $3.50 would be about the equivalent price, but I still think paying $1 for a bottle of Heineken is not a good deal.

It was also during these years that our tradition of heading to Cooperstown for Hall of Fame Induction Weekend was born. There was a lot of cheap beer involved in that story as well, but I'm not going to get into it right now.

Anyway, after sharing my discovery of the Brouthers monument with Joe, I learned he didn't know of it either. So, of course, we headed together to Brouthers Field.

Brouthers Field [c. 1987]

Even if Dan Brouthers was hardly Babe Ruth (although by 19th century standards, you'd have to give that distinction to either him or Roger Connor), it was still pretty amazing that a monument to a Hall of Fame player existed less than 10 miles from where we grew up, and we might not have known about it if not for one random umpiring assignment.

Fast forward to the summer of 2009. KJ and I had been dating less than a year at that point, and on a weekend visit to my hometown, we decided I should take her to see the monument. But first, we swung by the cemetery where Brouthers is buried to view his gravestone.

I know what you're thinking. How romantic. Either that or it's amazing this woman actually agreed to marry me. But, she was just as interested in this little adventure to pay tribute to one of two no-doubt Hall of Famers—Eddie Collins is the other—who grew up close to where I did.

We found Brouthers' final resting place at St. Mary's Cemetery in Wappingers Falls, but the monument and the field were gone. Its whereabouts became a mystery that wasn't fully solved until this past weekend.

Brouthers Field [June 2009]

We later learned, thanks to Hudson Valley magazine, the statue had been restored and relocated, but the follow-up to that article was rather vague as to its exact location. During a previous visit, my dad, KJ, Little Chuck (he wasn't much help) and I went looking for it, unsuccessfully.

The aforementioned article referred to it being located on Main Street in the Village of Wappingers Falls, "just a stone's throw" from the cemetery where Brouthers is buried, but that's all. The photo in the magazine showed it near a tannish cinder block building with a central air conditioning unit nearby. Obviously a business, not a residence. Which, of course, makes sense, although if I was asked to allow a statue of a Hall of Famer to be located on my property, I'd say yes in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, though, most of the buildings near the cemetery are houses, and none came close to fitting that description.

This past weekend, we expanded our search, and discovered the statue located in a pretty obvious place: in front of a bike shop about a half mile from the cemetery. Seriously, though, it was in a fairly obvious part of town that we hadn't looked for no other reason than we were fixated on locations closer to St. Mary's.

Let's just say even Tim Keefe couldn't throw a stone that far.

Dan Brouthers monument [Feb. 2013]

Frequent Spins (2013.1)

Last year, it took me almost three months to post my first installment of Frequent Spins, about twice as long as usual. This year, perhaps, it's back to normalcy. Well, we'll see.

Eels - Wonderful, Glorious
I was a little underwhelmed by my first listen to E and company's follow-up to my #1 album of 2010. But, it only took a second listen to realize that, although it's no End Times, it's definitely a worthwhile effort. E's outlook has obviously improved in the three years since and, while there are still some introspective moments, it seems he's moved on from acoustic lament to the point where he's ready to rock out a little.

Foxygen - We Are the 21st Century Ambassadors of Peace & Magic
My taste certainly isn't as eclectic as your average Pitchfork writer, but I can still occasionally get some good recommendations there. I may have pieced this impression together from their review, but this one reminds me of a cross between The Velvet Underground and The Kinks, with a little Mick Jagger swagger sprinkled in. "San Francisco" is one of two songs this year that I can't get out of my head...in a good way.

Holopaw - Academy Songs, Vol. 1
Quite possibly the first show that Abe, my brewing partner, and I attended together was Holopaw and the Fruit Bats at Cambridge's TT the Bear's, back in 2003. One of the things I remember most from that show was we hung out most of the night with a girl we met next door at the Middle East. She was from Seattle, passing through town on vacation, and trying to decide between going to TT's or to see the Decemberists at the Middle East upstairs. She came along with us, but in hindsight we should have followed her lead. That's not meant as an insult to Holopaw—whose latest just might be their best, although the reviews are mixed—but rather as an admission that I wasn't a fan of the Decemberists yet and it would have been great to see them play a really small venue before their popularity skyrocketed.

The Joy Formidable - Wolf's Law
If you've been reading my Frequent Spins posts for any length of time, you probably realize I'm endorsing most of the albums I'm writing about. But, there are exceptions. It would be a little unfair of me to throw this one into that category, but let's just call it a mixed bag. It initially reeled me in with some really catchy songs, namely "This Ladder is Ours" and a few others, but most of the rest of it just grates on me. A friend compared them to Smashing Pumpkins, a band that is probably the definition of "mixed bag."

Night Beds - Country Sleep
Abe, like Pitchfork, has much more eclectic taste than I do. He's a multi-instrumentalist in a math rock (although he likes to call it physics rock) band, after all. He frequently recommends albums to me that have me scratching my head as to what he was thinking. Night Beds was not one of these. One reviewer refers to this outfit as Bon Kil Foxes. Enough said.

Tegan and Sara - Heartthrob
The term "pop" can take on different meanings in the context of music discussions, ranging from describing a band as Beatlesque (generally a compliment) to calling something akin to top 40 radio (usually an insult). To differentiate, I usually add some sort of adjective when talking about the former (power pop, indie pop) or just use the term pop/rock. In fact, I sometimes just say "poppy," with the understanding I rarely discuss music that would be described as top 40 (is this term even used anymore?) in any meaningful way, so it's probably understood I'm talking about pop/rock. The identical twin sisters duo's latest is infectiously poppy, and I mean that in the top 40 way. But, I also mean it as a major compliment. "Closer" is the other song I have habitually stuck in my head these days.

Yo La Tengo - Fade
I'm not as familiar with YLT's entire catalog as you might think, but this one seems to capture the best of their more accessible side. In that sense, Fade is kind of like Luna was to Galaxie 500.

All-Time Teams #16: Milwaukee Brewers

This is part of an ongoing series where I'm naming an all-time team for each of the current 30 MLB franchises, and using this as a vehicle to discuss their greatest eligible player who is not in the Hall of Fame.

No franchise that started in Seattle has ever won a World Series. The Brewers were only the Seattle Pilots for one year, but their 44 years combined with the Mariners’ 36 adds up to almost as much futility as a certain drought that ended with a “curse” being broken.

Perhaps not surprisingly, there's not a single member of the '69 Pilots on this all-time team.

Franchise History
Milwaukee Brewers (1970- )
Seattle Pilots (1969)

An asterisk (*) denotes a Hall of Famer.

Starters
C - Darrell Porter (1971-1976)
1B - Cecil Cooper (1977-1987)
2B - Jim Gantner (1976-1992)
SS - Robin Yount* (1974-1993)
3B - Paul Molitor* (1978-1992)
LF - Ryan Braun (2007- )
CF - Gorman Thomas (1973-1976, 1978-1983, 1986)
RF - Sixto Lezcano (1974-1980)

When I’m working on these teams, I scour the internet for other all-time teams for comparison purposes. While several of these positions were a consensus, catcher was not one of them. In fact, I saw B.J. Surhoff (no surprise), Ted Simmons (not surprising, but a little misguided) and Dave Nilsson (even though his best years were after he stopped donning the tools of ignorance regularly) as starters on other all-time Brewers teams. They all have it wrong. Porter is the greatest catcher in Milwaukee history.

Don Money was probably a better player than Gantner—for his overall career and his time in Milwaukee—but squeezing Money into the starting lineup would mean moving Molitor to second or playing Money there.* Molitor played almost twice as much at third as he did at second, and Money was only a regular second baseman for one year with the Brewers. Plus, Gantner’s in the franchise’s top five in defensive WAR, runs, hits, total bases and stolen bases, so he’s certainly worthy of being recognized here.

*Or, I suppose Molitor could be the DH, but since for just a little more than half of the team’s history (1973-1997) they were an American League DH-era team, and Molitor was only a regular DH for his final two years in Milwaukee, I chose not to go that route.

Both Ben Oglivie and Geoff Jenkins played primarily left field for the Brew Crew. They accumulated a little more value than Lezcano, so I considered moving one of them to right, but Sixto was a slightly better player (Lezcano: 125 OPS+, 4.1 WAR/162; Jenkins: 116 OPS+, 3.2 WAR/162; Oglivie: 124 OPS+, 3.2 WAR/162) during his shorter tenure and was a true right fielder, so he gets the nod. I promise this has nothing to do with the fact he has perhaps the greatest name in baseball history.

Rotation
Teddy Higuera (1985-1991, 1993-1994)
Ben Sheets (2001-2008)
Chris Bosio (1986-1992)
Mike Caldwell (1977-1984)
Bill Wegman (1985-1995)

Closer
Dan Plesac (1986-1992)

Reserves
C - B.J. Surhoff (1987-1995)
1B - George Scott (1972-1976)
IF - Don Money (1973-1983)
3B - Jeff Cirillo (1994-1999, 2005-2006)
OF - Ben Oglivie (1978-1986)
OF - Geoff Jenkins (1998-2007)

Typically, I insist on each team having a realistic bench. This includes carrying at least one player capable of backing up at each position, most importantly catcher, shortstop and center field. Neither Oglivie nor Jenkins is a legitimate option in center, but Yount is, so we've got that covered. However, Money's days as a shortstop were mostly numbered by the time he arrived in Milwaukee. In fact, Molitor played more games there as a Brewer. So, this team is a little weak on the bench at that position. But, what was I supposed to do, take Jose Valentin?

Bullpen
Rollie Fingers* (1981-1982, 1984-1985)
Ken Sanders (1970-1972)
Mike Fetters (1992-1997)
Yovani Gallardo (2007- )
Jim Slaton (1971-1977, 1979-1983)

Fingers is a Hall of Famer, but his time in Milwaukee doesn't compare to Plesac's run as closer there, so he'll have to share setup duties with Sanders and Fetters, while Gallardo and Slaton fill the long reliever/spot starter roles. Slaton is the franchise's all-time wins leader, but his 97 ERA+ says he was basically an average pitcher. An average pitcher over 2000+ innings of work, that is, which still earns him a spot on this team.

Manager
Harvey Kuenn (1975, 1982-1983)

Kuenn is certainly the most famous manager in the Brewers' short history, having led a team that was nicknamed Harvey's Wallbangers to the franchise's one and only World Series appearance in 1982. But, considering he only managed one full season, the 1983 campaign in which his team finished a respectable 87-75 and he was subsequently fired, his selection isn't a no-brainer.

Greatest Eligible non-Hall of Famer

I've said this before, but this selection can be a little tricky. Here I'm looking for the best Hall-eligible player who would wear a Brewers cap on his plaque if he happened to be elected. There are three Hall of Famers on this team, and Braun and Gallardo are still active, so that leaves 20 remaining candidates.

Among those 20, only Cecil Cooper, Don Money, Jeff Cirillo, George Scott, B.J. Surhoff and Darrell Porter were worth over 30 career WAR. I'll add Teddy Higuera (28.9) to the mix, because he falls just short and is the only pitcher really worthy of this discussion. Between them, this group received a grand total of four Hall of Fame votes, so I probably don't need to say that it's pretty slim pickings.

Surhoff, who quite unbelievably received two of the four aforementioned votes, played one more year in Milwaukee than in Baltimore, but enjoyed most of his better seasons with the Orioles, including his only All-Star appearance and two trips to the postseason, so I'm ruling him out.

Porter played almost an identical number of games with Milwaukee, Kansas City and St. Louis, but his best years were clearly the Royals years, including two top ten MVP finishes and three All-Star appearances, so he's out.

That leaves Cooper, Money, Cirillo, Scott—who played longer in Boston, but clearly had his best years in Milwaukee—and Higuera, who technically isn't Hall-eligible because he only played nine years, but that's kind of a silly rule. Here's how they look based on Hall Rating:

Cooper - 63
Higuera - 63
Cirillo - 63
Money - 61
Scott - 57

Just what I thought. Well, I'll admit I really didn't expect Cirillo to rank that highly, but I'm not surprised there's really not much separating these guys in terms of their overall careers. In such cases, I like to fall back on who produced the most for the team in question. That essentially means it's down to Higuera and Cooper, who are 4th and 5th in team history in WAR, after Yount, Molitor and Braun.

Higuera's an interesting case—although, as I previously said, he's technically not eligible for the Hall of Fame—but I'm sticking with my original decision that Cecil Cooper is the Brewers' greatest eligible non-Hall of Famer. Cooper is basically third (behind Yount and Molitor) in the team's history in just about every offensive category: runs, hits, total bases, doubles, runs created, extra base hits, times on base. Alright, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but he's also second all-time in RBI.

Cooper enjoyed a nice five-year peak from 1979-1983, during which he batted .320/.359/.517 (143 OPS+) with 123 HR, 535 RBI and 459 runs scored, winning three Silver Sluggers, and finishing 5th in AL MVP voting three times and 8th another time. He also won two Gold Gloves and was named to four All-Star teams during a period in which he was worth 23.3 WAR.

These years comprise his age 29 to 33 seasons, so he was a bit of a late bloomer. He also didn't produce much beyond his prime, so there are no Hall of Fame discussions regarding Cecil Cooper. Still, for a short period of time, he was capable of producing at a high level and he's certainly a player worth remembering.

Next Up: Minnesota Twins

Portland: Take Five

This past week, I made my fifth trip to KJ's hometown of Portland, Oregon, and it was our second involving Little Chuck. Considering the latter part of that sentence, these trips are no longer the brewery tours I originally envisioned them to be, but I still managed to visit three new (to me) brewpubs this time.

Prior to my first trip to Portland in the summer of 2009, I fantasized about a city where every other tavern brewed their own beer. In reality, the greater Portland area is a strange hybrid of charming urban neighborhoods and modern-city suburban sprawl. But, honestly, the more happening areas aren't that far from my romanticized ideal. I still vividly remember, on more than one occasion, driving past several brewpubs I'd never heard of on our way to our ultimate destination.

Of course, not being from the area, there were bound to be places I'd never heard of. But, you'll have to believe me when I tell you I'd done enough research to be familiar with the majority of the city's brewing operations.

On that first trip, I tasted close to 40 different local beers in a 10-day span. This time around, although the trip was a little shorter, the list paled (not a reference to the beer style) in comparison:

Eager Beaver IPA (4th Street Brewing Co.)
Black Hearted Ale (Migration Brewing)
Black Rabbit Porter (McMenamins)
Sunflower IPA (McMenamins)
Sahalie (The Ale Apothecary)
India Session Ale (10 Barrel Brewing Co.)
Shocks of Sheba IPA (Fire on the Mountain)
Red Headed Stranger (Fire on the Mountain)
Lunatic Fringe (The Rock Wood Fired Pizza & Spirits)

Yup, that's it. 1-2 beers per day is all I can handle at this point. Well, when I say handle, I'm really talking about what I'm able to consume and still feel comfortable with my parenting ability. But, like I said, three additional brewpubs (4th Street, Fire on the Mountain, The Rock) visited brings my Portland total to 17, if my count is correct. I'm not sure if I'll ever reach the "goal" of eventually making it to every one in the metro area—there are around 40 according to beermapping.com, but I know of at least two that aren't on that list, so I suspect the total is maybe 50 or more—but I sure as heck will enjoy trying.

The real highlight of the trip was a bottle of Sahalie a friend and I shared during a brunch get-together of KJ's crew. It's brewed at a small operation called The Ale Apothecary in Bend, Oregon.

When our friend purchased it at a local beer store called Belmont Station—which he raves about—he was told it smells like bubble gum, but tastes like a horse smells. This might sound a little peculiar to you, as it does to me, but he honestly meant that to be a good thing.

I'll admit my sense of smell isn't the keenest, but I didn't pick up any bubble gum in the aroma, so it's possible my friend misunderstood the description. In fact, I thought its creamy head imparted a faint, but funky, scent (of horse manure?) into my nose.

Despite this, it tasted fantastic. Described as an American Wild Ale, it's not a style I would necessarily consider my thing, but its combination of fruitiness and tartness, and slightly woody champagne-like essence went down easy, despite being around 10% ABV. I suppose it didn't hurt that I drank most of it on an empty stomach, giving me my first pre-noon buzz in I don't know how long.

Best of 2012

I missed posting a Best of 2011 last year. Not best music, of course, but best of everything else. I guess that's because there was one best-of moment in 2011 that trumped them all, and that was the birth of my son.

So, I thought I'd resurrect this annual thing by offering my best of 2012 awards. Of course, all of these awards pertain to something that I've talked about here at some point this year.

Best Concert
I went to two shows last year. That might be an all-time low, or at least the fewest number of concerts I've seen since 1980, when Cheap Trick's Dream Police Tour got it all started for me. It's definitely the least since I moved to the Boston area 15 years ago.

I'm not going to rehash the reasons why. You already know, and if you don't, the first paragraph of this post provides a pretty good clue. What goes hand-in-hand with being out of the concert-going loop is that the crowds are even more difficult for me to deal with than they once were.

So, I'll admit that the Scud Mountain Boys' Brighton Music Hall show gets an added bonus in that it was at a small, fairly uncrowded venue. Not that the Paradise is huge, as that's where the other show took place (Jay Farrar/Will Johnson/Anders Parker/Yim Yames). That was a great performance in its own right, but it was definitely one of those tightly-packed-like-a-chicken-coup events.

The overriding reason I chose the Scuds show is probably nostalgia. (In case you haven't noticed, nostalgia usually trumps everything in my book.) I hadn't heard these songs played live since the first time I heard them played live, 15 years ago. Plus, I attended the show with the friend I've attended more concerts with than probably everyone else combined, including a few that came shortly after the aforementioned Cheap Trick concert and the first Scud Mountain Boys show.

Best Ballpark
I didn't make it to a major league game for the first year since I don't know when, but we did make it to two minor league games. As with most of the other awards here, the idea is really to recognize things new to me. That distinction only applies to one of the two, but Portland, Maine's Hadlock Field is worthy of the honor regardless. Besides, it was my son's first ballgame ever. Hard to top that.

Best Beer
I drank 176 different beers in 2012, many of them for the first time. To be honest, there's not one that really stood out as the best, but there were many I considered great among those new to me. So, the ones in bold on my Beers of 2012 page share the award this year.

Best Brewery
When we visited Oregon in June, our friends there had a brew pub they wanted to take us to that they were sure I'd never been. You see, it's pretty well known among KJ's crew that my quest is to eventually visit every brew pub in the greater Portland area. (Actually, I just made that up, but I think it's now one of my new goals.)

Anyway, Burnside Brewing was/is fantastic. They feature some interesting experimental brews that aren't completely over the top, and use ingredients that don't always float my boat when it comes to beer, but in subtle ways. Plus, they brew an excellent IPA, an absolute requirement, as far as I'm concerned.

Best Trip
Looking back on 2012, I realized we did pretty well in the travel department, taking LC on two weekend trips to Maine and one to Vermont, as well as flying with him across country to Oregon and on a shorter trip to Baltimore. There were also several trips to visit my family in New York mixed in as well.

While our favorite trip is a tough call, I'm going with our long weekend in Baltimore in October. We got to really appreciate what I now consider an under-rated city (especially the inner harbor area), spend a lot of quality time with KJ's core group of friends, and I got in some quality time exploring the neighborhood with just me and LC, including taking him to a brew pub.