Bryce Harper not hustling to first base probably would have gone unnoticed had Jonathan Papelbon not gone Boston Strangler on him in the dugout, Boston being the place whence Papelbon came, via stopover in Philadelphia.
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It was in the wee hours of the morning when the bulletin declared it an official game, that lovable Yogi Berra had died at age 90.
People always enjoy stories about a guy spending a lot of time in the minor leagues, paying serious dues and whatnot, before he breaks into the majors. Especially if he does something in the majors.
A few weeks ago I heard from Mike Bryant, father of Chicago Cubs slugger Kris Bryant, the player soon to be named National League Rookie of the Year. It might have been in July, when his son was scuffling.
It was Labor Day, and game 144 (of 144) of the Pacific Coast League season was played before only a sunbaked smattering of spectators at Cashman Field. You could hear Beer Man Bruce bellow from foul line to foul line.
So this is sports in the Windy City: Just outside Wrigley Field at the corner of Addison and Clark, a short toss from the iconic red marquee over the main entrance to where the Cubs have broken hearts for the better part of 100 years, is a guy who hawks T-shirts.
The line was three people deep outside the Cashman Field box office, and two were typically intelligent Dodgers fans from Oxnard, Calif., searching for a way to make their money last longer than a few hands at the tables. The other person was my Review-Journal colleague, Ron Kantowski.
If there’s anything most Las Vegas sports fans can agree upon, it’s that Sam Boyd Stadium and Cashman Field stink, and that hopefully there will be places to park at the new hockey arena.