In 1994 a band called Blink out of suburban San Diego began to make its mark on the music scene. By 1999, with songs featured in the film American Pie, the band would experience main stream success -- only by that time the world knew this poppy, punk-rock band by the name Blink 182.
Let's go back to 1994 . . .
When Blink began to realize success with their release of Cheshire Cat they appeared on the music industry's radar and consequently received a threat of legal action from an Irish techno band already using the name Blink. The fellas from Rancho Bernardo acquiesced, added the numbers 182, and the rest as they say is history. But is it?
What on earth does the 182 signify. Back in the day I initially thought it was a reference to an 80's film called Turk 182 starring a young Timothy Hutton. The lead character, due to personal circumstances, turned into quite the iconoclast and ultimately began tagging using an esoteric slogan: Turk 182. It also sounded cool. But I never received corroboration and I eventually moved off of this theory.
Originating from the retirement community of Rancho Bernardo it was also theorized that Blink 182 arrived with their name using the alphabet. If you take the18th letter of the alphabet (R) and the 2nd letter (B) and place them next to one another (182) it signifies their origins in RB, the notorious neighborhood of blue hairs.
It has even been suggested that 182 is the number of times Al Pacino used the "f" word in the film Scarface.
As a band however, Blink 182 are on record stating that the numbers have no special meaning at all. But this is patently untrue. As any keen observer will tell you, big things were happening in San Diego, California during 1994 . . . and in the blink of an eye (no pun intended) it all ended.
On the field at Jack Murphy Stadium the San Diego Padres were on their way to a disastrous last place finish in the NL West during a strike shortened season. It was a year in which Tony Gwynn chased the majesty of .400 and a young player named Dave Staton attempted to make his mark in San Diego. While the young first baseman out of Cal State Fullerton averaged a HR nearly once every 15 at-bats it wasn't enough for Dave Staton to keep his job.
The year is now 2012 and Blink 182 is recording music again after a hiatus that saw their individual parts creating under new names. And what of former Padre Dave Staton, you ask? Well he too is getting his due . . .
After a short drive I tried to piece together my upcoming trip to Peoria. As the legs of the event began to fall into place in my mind the Dead Kennedys' Holiday in Cambodia began to play on the radio. And as any fool will tell you, Cambodia and Peoria rhyme perfectly, so I began to pen a song.
This song is based on my one experience in Peoria last season, which inexplicably found me in the Press Box at the Peoria Sports Complex viewing the first game of Spring Training. The song is also pieced together from the musings of Corey Brock of Padres.com and the North County Times' Dan Hayes, two authority figures on Peoria Arizona . . .
I suggest that you simultaneously play the music of the Dead Kennedys and sing my lyrics loudly enough to drown out Jello Biafra.
So you been to Arizona For a year or two And you know you've seen it all Iconic hookups at the bar Urinal rendezvous from afar I guess the writing was on the wall
Play the Atari's theme To charge up the team On the park's five grand stereo Braggin' that you know How Bill Center feels old And the Press box got so much soul
It's time to hear what you most fear Nickleback will not help you here Brace yourself, dear Friiii - - ar: Brace yourself, dear Friiii - -ar:
It's a holiday in Peoria It's tough wearin' #75, kid, but it's life It's a holiday in Peoria Don't forget to call your wife [* To the poor guy who has little chance of making the squad]
See guys like Hoffy get to teach Ausmus shows a catcher how to reach Blacky and Balls work with the arms Corey, Dan, and Uncle Ted observe The next big thing's 12-to-6 curve But the unproven 'pen sounds alarms
Well you'll work harder With a radar gun in your back For a Waffle House meal a day A slave for Salty's Chips and salsa 'till you starve Then your guts are ruined until May [*A message for the Padres fan turned intern]
Now you can go where people drink in the sun Now you can go where fans watch players run What you need, my Padre: What you need, my Padre:
Is a holiday in Peoria Where people dress in blue, sand, orange, and brown A holiday in Peoria Where the cracks of bats will sound
Bud Black, Bud Black, Bud Black, Bud Black, [etc]
And it's a holiday in Peoria Where you'll do what you're told A holiday in Peoria Where the Arizona slums got so much soul
Bud Black!
RJ's Fro and Ducksnorts are accomplished musicians so I expect that our trip next weekend will yield an acoustic production of this song -- during our Holiday in Peoria.
I read the opening paragraph of Bill Center's article this morning and immediately stopped.
My mind was blown after reading these words written about Padres manager Bud Black:
" . . . where he begins his sixth spring training as Padres manager Monday."
It seems like only yesterday that Bud Black arrived from Anaheim and the Bruce Bochy Era concluded. Yet here he is, beginning his 6th season with the Padres.
The only thing I could think of in response to this piece of information was to make a reference to a long running sit-com that I've never even watched. But Bud Black deserves better than that.
Bud Black should be applauded for making it to a 6th season as not everyone / everything has such staying power.
Here's a list of things that weren't as fortunate to make it to a sixth year. . .
Nirvana With Nirvana's release of their debut album Bleach in June of 1989 and the subsequent suicide of Kurt Cobain in April of 1994 the seminal rock band failed to even make it to the 5 year mark. Bud Black > Flannel Appareland Three Chord Guitar Progressions
Gale Sayers Technically the career of the Kansas Comet lasted form 1965-1971 but catastrophic knee injuries cut his run of greatness short. Sayers only played two games in both the 1970 and 1971 seasons which by my count leaves his career at a full five seasons in the NFL. Bud Black > 1960's Knee Reconstruction
The Wire The epic HBO series, portraying the urban decay of Baltimore as described by David Simon and Ed Burns, lasted a full 5 seasons and then called it quits. Bud Black > Jimmy McNulty + Omar Little
Saved By The Bell: The College Years Tiffani-Amber Thiessen was so good looking in 1993 she could have carried The College Years through a four year undergraduate program and a masters thesis. Alas, the series ended after one season. Bud Black > Kelly Kapowski
Star Wars Over the span of 28 years the George Lucas successfully brought 5* feature length Star Wars films to the big screen. I'm fudging with the parameters here but in terms of output it's more important to count the films and not the years in which they spanned. Bud Black > George Lucas' Dialogue and Jar Jar Binks
*Most Star Wars aficionados acknowledge that The Phantom Menace sucked horribly. As such I have not included it. And Bud Black wins.
The Greco-Persian Wars Taken in tandem, the two invasions of Greece by the mighty Persian armies of Darius and Xerxes, lasted less than five years. Considering the superior strength of Persia and the fact that Greece ultimately won it's astonishing that these wars didn't last longer. Bud Black would have destroyed Greece. Bud Black > Ancient History and its Commanders
The San Diego Padres The Padres made it through 5 seasons in San Diego and then in 1974 were on the verge of moving to Washington DC. Had Ray Kroc not swooped in to save the day we'd be saying that Bud Black also outlasted the San Diego Padres . . . or would we? Feel free to contemplate this existential dilemma. Bud Black = Ray Kroc (?)
Bud Black has yet to make the playoffs in San Diego but his tenure should be commended nonetheless. I foresee greatness for Bud Black. All he needs is theright number of yearsunder his belt.
During Saturday's Fanfest at PETCO Park, Huston Street addressed his Closer's Music for 2012 while sitting on a forum panel moderated by Mud Grant. He said it would be a surprise. I have an opinion on this . . .
Since 1998 there have been two songs* San Diego Padres fans have heard in the 9th inning of a close game: Hells Bells for Trevor Hoffman and Heath Bell's Blow Me Away. Fourteen seasons with little variation, a remarkable feat.
*In 2003 Rod Beck took over for an injured Trevor Hoffman and saved 20 games. Who knows how Shooter would have rolled . . .
Is the discussion of entrance music frivolous? Yes. Am I going to write something about it regardless? Yes. Is my idea going to be more radical? Is it an election year?*
* Answering a question with a question is the way forward. Write that down . . . When Huston Street was acquired by the San Diego Padres on December 7th, 2011 fans immediately chimed in with the obvious suggestions for 9th inning entrance music, most of which included the words Street or Streets referenced. But we don't need music from U2, The Cure, or the motion picture soundtrack to Annie*.
*I live in a household of females. Reserve judgement lest ye be judged yourself.
In my mind however, there's only one real song choice for Huston Street. I can't resist the idea that Street Fighting Man should be his music for the remainder of his time in San Diego.*
*A career which may or may not last past July 31st of this year.
But I wasn't talking about the Rolling Stones' Street Fighting Man. I much prefer a call to war: Rage Against The Machine's version of Street Fighting Man.
In 2000 RATM released Renegades, a collection of militant/anti-establishment/call-to-revolution type cover-songs. It featured a gritty, hard-edged Street Fighting Man that would subsequently be featured when ever someone wanted to show video footage of backyard revolution:
Whether this song played as the soundtrack to Protestant and Catholic clashes in Northern Ireland or to the recent revolutions on the Arab Street the connotations were manifest: Rage!!!
Could this song get a moribund crowd to their feet during the 9th inning of a 2-1 game at PETCO?*
*Rhetorical question, you twit.
But Street Fighting Man is only one part of San Diego's 9th inning revolution, my good people.
While Huston Street charges out of the pen and begins his warm-up tosses there must be some sort of video montage projecting throughout the park. And since it's an election year I propose that the Padres focus on our current backyard revolution -- the battle against MLB to get ownership approved, specifically as it relates to current Arizona Diamondbacks owner Ken Kendricks and his vendetta against former partner and current Padres owner, Jeffrey Moorad.
I want a video montage with Samuel L. Jackson crushing snakes. I want to see video stills of Arizona Diamondbacks logos bursting into flames. There needs to be lots of fire! The city of Phoenix? Fire! Every place in the greater-Phoenix area should be ablaze with fire. A burning metropolis, one in which, only Peoria* survives the fury.
*The Seattle Mariners' locker room at the Peoria Sports Complex should burn to the ground.
Video stills of Ken Kendricks? He's the devil. He. Should. Be. ON. FIRE! Kendricks should have protruding horns from his ample forehead. And be holding a pitch fork! And he should be . . . on fire!!! There should be Molotov cocktails soaring through the air with Chase Field set in a fiery background. Chase Field's fate? Burned to the ground! This revolution shall be televised! Yahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
*We will spare former Kearney Komet, Alan Trammel.
The video shall end with Jeff Moorad and Tom Garfinkel standing on the cliffs of Torrey Pines bellowing, "We are the San Diego Padres. And we approve of this message."
In summation: Rage Against The Machine's Street Fighting Man, Samuel L. Jackson,dying snakes, fire, connotations of devils, and more fire.
Good luck to Huston Street and the 2012 San Diego Padres.
At the El Cajon Brewing Company edition of Padres and Pints (Episode 2) Corey Brock of Padres.com was besieged by a set of carefully crafted questions. Now it's your turn . . . Originally we asked Corey the following: "You're on your way to Spring Training. Better music as you pass through Yuma: Band of Horses or Nickleback?"
This was a cheap-shot at Nickleback because that's the thing to do these days. And we all know the answer is Band of Horses. Let's amend the question slightly:
How dare you Canada. HOW. DARE. YOU.
Next we gave Corey the option of being an inanimate object belonging to a famous ballplayer:
A very difficult question. Dave Parker was cool but also a cokehead. Barry Bonds was (is) a jerk looking for a competitive advantage. It's a toss up.
How about an earring from a specific time and place versus a heroic mustache?
Jack Morris won his game. Don't we have to go with the 'stache?
Different weather conditions can often influence our choice of beverage:
To head for the mountains or not to . . .
The most important question came in the form of political news analysis and delivery:
Norah O'Donnell has a masters in International Studies from Georgetown. That's all I'm saying . . .
There's your rapid fire for this week. Stat tuned for the Port Brewing /Lost Abbey edition of rapid fire.
Properly indoctrinating young children is no easy task. You might think it so but the process is painstaking and endless. Are my little ones Padres fans? Sure. But to what degree? They know the name of Gwynn and that the Dodgers and Giants are not to be trusted but can they sit through a game, appreciating nuance, and ultimately stay with the team and the game forever?
'Tis a daunting task, this indoctrination business. I suggest beginning with something more simple. Something like music.
I don't believe in listening to kids music. There is a fine line between giving into a child's wants and completely selling your soul. Consequently, the moment you begin to purchase the aforementioned crap a part of you has died. But fear not -- kids don't really want that music anyway. You give it to them. And then they want it. End the cycle now.
The little Avengers like to dance so we turn on Time Warner's Music Choice channels. During the baseball season this event generally cuts into the top half of the 2nd inning. I am fine with this.
Against the wishes of Mrs. AJM, I do my best to avoid the kids channel and all dance stations. If dancing is to replace Padres on the television then it will occur to an alternative soundtrack (found on channels 916, 917, and 918). These are good stations. Modern alternative. The Clash, Police, etc. Remember, we're indoctrinating kids here. What do you want them to listen to? Make them want good music. Stop the cycle of delivering crappy music and you'll extinguish their desire for crappy music.
As the Padres game plays. Kids dance. Missing the second inning is an acceptable trade-off. The Music Choice channels, in addition to playing the soundtrack for our own personal Dance Party U.S.A., display rotating pictures and biographical information about the musicians. While the music plays, the Padres never fully leave the room because invariably, Cake begins to play.
When Cake plays, and the pictures cycle through, I don't see Cake's lead singer and guitarist John McCrea. I see Heath Bell.
The vast number of times I've had this thought forced me to create an odd narrative about a marketing opportunity for the Padres*. Carrying that narrative in my mind for the last 11 months nearly killed me and it was with great relief that I deposited segments here at AJM, in various parts this week. I feel like I can properly carry on my true work now: indoctrinating children into following a small market baseball team.
Training children to be Padres fans and to listen to good music is not easy. And it never will be. You must thrust yourself into both propositions.
If the day comes that the little ones decide that baseball is not for them, and the little bonding session you once enjoyed over the game is sought elsewhere, there will surely be a reckoning in your world. If this day comes while driving the vocal majority will likely clamor for you to exchange the cacophonous tones of Ted Leitner for music on the FM dial. And if this is your fate you'll be forced to posit this question: Did I err when I chose not to attempt to indoctrinate the little ones into listening to my music?
Do not let it come to this. Baseball is no sure thing with humans*. But music is forever. Program them to listen to the good stuff. And do it now.
"Now the things you gotta remember are the details. It's the details that sell your story." ~ Reservoir Dogs (1992)
From the mind of Quentin Tarantino came the above piece of dialogue. Created for a character named Detective Holdaway of the L.A.P.D, the line was spoken to fellow detective Freddy Newandyke. Viewers of the critically acclaimed film came to know Freddy as . . . Mr. Orange.
To do undercover work Freddy needed a story to recite if ever interrogated by a criminal element. A story so detailed, there would be little doubt he was part of a world of crime. A story that would keep him alive. A Commode Story was born.
Holdaway gave the future Mr. Orange a script for an amusing story that happened while working a job. He told him to commit the structure of the story to memory and fill in the gaps with color. Convincing color. The finished anecdote described a run-in with four L.A. Sheriffs in a filthy airport restroom. The precision of the Commode story allowed Freddy to work for Joe Cabot during a Jewelry heist . . . as Mr. Orange.
When I wrote The Padres and Cake: A failed Marketing Campaignit would be best described as a derivative of the above Reservoir Dogs scene. This is to say that it was extremely detailed and wholly untrue.
From the new slogan (Going The Distance) and a concert by Cake at the Park in the Park honoring the 15 year anniversary of the 1996 NL West Champion Padres, all were part of an apocryphal tale.
People simply read the post. Some voted in the poll about whether the idea was good, however the veracity of my claim was never questioned.This could probably be attributed to the painstaking detail, my own personal Commode Story. That and Heath Bell looks a lot Cake's John McCrea.
During the Kevin Towers administration under Sandy Alderson I had a source in the Padres front office. I also had a source during the Jed Hoyer Era. To call them sources would probably be inaccurate. A source is a person with whom a trusting relationship has been cultivated whereas I just happened to know someone with organizational ties who I could bug for a little information.
I'm not a news breaker or anything so I rarely ever wrote about what my sources shared. But now with a change in administration I feel as though Deep Throat has passed away, moving on to a better place.
And so I share the following Padres Marketing plan from 2011 . . . Buoyed by the mantra "Believe", the 2010 San Diego Padres went on one of the most improbable runs in recent memory. As Padres fans continued to believe throughout the summer the team went into a 10 game swoon in late August and never fully recovered, ultimately losing the NL West in game 162 to eventual World Series winners, the San Francisco Giants. The Padres lost yet somehow fans still Believed. It was a winning slogan.
Moving into the 2011 season the Padres marketing department needed a slogan that could build on both the notion of Belief but also cater to the idea that 2010 was not a fluke and that there was more that needed to be accomplished.
Padres marketing mavens presented the following: 2011 San Diego Padres: Going The Distance
This new concept would borrow from the band Cake's 1996 breakout hit "The Distance".
Inspired by the uncanny resemblance between Cake's John McCrea and Padres closer Heath Bell executives looked to directly incorporate this coincidence into the marketing plans for the 2011 Padres.
The Going The Distance slogan spoke to the concept of redemption, something that could spur fans to carry-over their support from 2010 while simultaneously pulling-in any disenfranchised fans through the use of a catchy pop-rock tune.
There was also the symbolism of 1996 that the marketing team wanted to utilize. With Cake's song from 1996 being played in heavy rotation at the park the Padres could use it as a springboard for recognizing the 15 year anniversary of the 1996 NL West Champion team. While the '84 and '98 teams get regular recognition the '96 team is often forgotten. But in the proper context '96 was a necessary catalyst for the 1998 team's birth which ultimately lead to the construction of PETCO Park. 1996 was finally going to get its proper time in the sun.
Going The Distance would replace Believe as the primary Padres slogan and fans would receive a heavy dose of Cake's song when the Padres took the field in the top of the first and also after wins, replacing Macy Gray's Beauty In The World.
Part of this marketing ploy would also include a concert in the park during the summer of 2011 featuring Cake. During this concert the resemblance of Heath Bell and John McCrea would be played-up when Bell joined McCrea and Cake on stage.
The idea seemed rather brilliant. It was brought to upper management in late 2010.
I understand that it was considered but ultimately rejected at the end of the first week in December of 2010. This date represented the trade of Adrian Gonzalez and what appeared to be a massive overhaul of the overachieving 2010 squad. The Padres would be retooling in 2011 and the promotion of playoff aspirations by a team that would be clearly less than the sum of their parts seemed like a disingenuous message to sell to fans.
There was also the complication of Heath Bell himself. Scheduled to be a free-agent at the end of 2011 the likelihood of him remaining a Padre past the July 31st trade deadline did not seem plausible. Centering a marketing campaign around the resemblance of Bell and McCrea would be catastrophic if Bell were traded at the deadline. This issue was ultimately of less concern as the front office did not project the Padres to compete during the 2011 season and Going The Distance seemed too far fetched of an idea.
The plan was scrapped. The tentative appearance by Cake was cancelled and Dierks Bentley played the August 20th, 2011 concert at the Park in the Park.
The idea was creative. The idea was fun. The idea, in hindsight, was an impossibility. The San Diego Padres as constructed at that time would have been far too big of a gamble for such a marketing scheme. Going The Distance was too ambitious. Or was it?
Over on Twitter we were talking about all of the crappy songs that have been co-opted by teams and how the Padres could use an original tune, identifiable with San Diego.
We give you Buck-O-Nine's My Town. A song, fittingly, about our town: San Diego.
After 601 saves Trevor Hoffman hung up his spikes and fans we're left to reflect on a remarkable career. I have begun to think of the successes and failures, but perhaps most importantly, what he has meant to San Diego.
Sorry... but that last one there... I think about it a lot.
As a city without championships San Diegans are often left with little else than the memories of individual players and their place in our community. In that sense the names Gwynn and Hoffman are synonymous; players who enjoyed tremendous on-field success, became trademarks of the Padres organization and pillars of our community---guys who we were proud to call our own.
As I reflected yesterday on the consistency and greatness of Trevor's career I began to sift through and sort his most memorable performances. These were the ones that my mind jigsawed back together: (click "Read More" to continue)
October 20th 1998--After a season of absolute dominance and 53 saved games, Trevor surrendered a lead in game 3 of the World Series when he allowed a 3-run HR to Yankees 3rd baseman, Scott Brosius. The blown save would lead to a game 3 loss that evening and the series would end abruptly the following night (television).
September 29th, 2007-- (game 161) With an opportunity to clinch the division against the Milwaukee Brewers Trevor could not keep the light hitting Tony Gwynn Jr. from pulling an RBI triple down the line. TGJ's hit sent the game to extra innings where it would end in the 11th with a disheartening Padres loss. The son of the greatest player in the history of the Padres franchise had dashed our hopes while batting against perhaps the second most beloved player (television).
October 1st, 2007-- (game 163) In the most heartbreaking game in my time as a Padres fan Trevor let open the floodgates against the Colorado Rockies in the 13th inning of game 163. The third, and winning, run scored when Matt Holiday's chin bounced off the Denver dirt and he was ruled safe by home plate umpire Tim McClelland (television).
June 24th, 2008-- The Padres, mired in a miserable follow-up to the 2007 season, trotted out Trevor Hoffman during the 9th inning of a 1-1 tie. I told my wife that he never does well entering a game in the 8th or with runners on base... or during a tie game. After striking out the first two batters in the top half of the 9th he gave up two HRs in rapid succession. My wife, a calm and reasonable person, became vocal in her displeasure. I did something I rarely ever do... I booed. I booed Trevor Hoffman (attended).
As I took stock of my fanhood and recalled the most lucid moments in Trevor Hoffman's career I came to the only logical conclusion: I am a terrible Trevor Hoffman fan.
I beat myself up over it. How could a player who exhibited such greatness serve only as the tragic punchline to my most memorable pains as a Padres fan?
I sat and thought and was left with little reward for the effort. I could come up with no specific performances of greatness by Trevor. Sure, I could remember change-ups that dropped off the table leaving hitters baffled but there was no 1-2-3 inning requiring a mere 3 pitches. There was no 9 pitch inning of 3 batters coaxed into flailing swings at the famous change-up. Nor could I recall some great defensive stab whereupon Trevor wielded to second base for an inning ending double play.
There had to be something. While the Padres could never claim that memorable World Series moment where everyone mobbed the closer like the Mets did to Jesse Orosco* in the 1986 WS, there had to be something about a Trevor appearance that stood out...
And then the cobwebs began to clear from the deepest recesses of my mind and a smile appeared on my face. I began to remember.
In fact I began to remember every game I attended where Trevor Hoffman pitched... and then I began to remember his appearances I watched on television... and there was a similar artistry to them all. I had not forgotten a thing.
My memory was not limited to the scars that were produced so many years before. I recalled the rhythm to each and every one of Trevor's entrances. They were remarkably consistent in both appearance and performance.
As a fan I realized that I didn't need to remember anything more specific than the sound of Hells Bells playing over the PA or my imagination of the tune being played during the commercial break of a telecast watched at home. It didn't matter that Hells Bells was not played when Trevor had a save opportunity on the road.... because it automatically became my mind's soundtrack each and every time.
If Hells Bells was played it meant Trevor Time... and if Trevor made his late inning appearance it was near certain the Padres would walk off the field with a win.
Trevor Hoffman walked off the field a winner almost 9 out of 10 times during his career... and for me, wins aren't too bad of a memory.
Thanks Trevor.
* The final out of the '86 series is one of my favorites. Jesse Orosco flipped his glove high into the New York sky after the final out of game 7; it was an action I would often imitate amongst friends at the ball field. Orosco would go on to pitch for another 20 years or so and during the latter stretch of his career he would go trick or treating at my parent's house. Actually he accompanied his children to my house on Halloween. Jesse Orosco was my neighbor for a short time here in San Diego but I never mustered the nerve to ask him to recreate that October night in 1986. That would have been cool.
Few people know that the Ramones' 1975 hit, Beat on the Brat(with a baseball bat), was actually a tribute to one of the greatest brawls in baseball history.
In 1965, San Francisco Giants pitcher Juan Marichal took umbrage with Los Angeles Dodgers Catcher John Roseboro after Roseboro had hummed a throw a little too close to Marichal's ear on a toss back to pitcher Sandy Koufax. Marichal proceeded to club Roseboro over the head with his bat igniting a bench clearing brawl in the midst of a pennant race.
Meanwhile, aspiring musicians Joey and Dee Dee Ramone, sat in Queens, New York watching it all unfold. Both still held allegiances to the Giants despite the club's decision to move west less than a decade earlier. Each of these future punk rock pioneers cheered for Marichal that day with fervor not seen since the gladiatorial celebrations of Rome.
Joey and Dee Dee always viewed John Roseboro as a bit of a punk for what he did so they penned a three chord assault to commemorate an incident seared into their childhood memories. But rather than call him a punk (which, after all, was their preferred nom de guerre) they opted for the more derogatory term associated with whiny children: a brat.
Thus, a punk rock tune of legendary* status was born. I give you The Ramones...
This story is TRUE or FALSE? *And by legendary I mean the song.
How 'bout more baseball related music that doesn't include John Fogerty's Centerfield? Sweet, let's do it!
When I was listening to some Steve Poltz the other night on the YouTube I came across him doing a cover of Rick Springfield's Jesse's Girl. He did some weird lyrical improv and it was funny so I laughed. The laughter made me smile and as I smiled I noticed that the guy who sang the chorus with him had a name. The name was important enough to put into the title of the video but also memorable and distinct enough for me to be moved to perform a search. The name: Matt the Electrician.
Matt the Electrician is a musician based in Austin, Texas and I found myself staying up way past a good and proper bedtime listening to the sound. The weary Monday was worth it though because... well, call it the effect of good music... it's always worth it.
I enjoyed Matt the Electrician's music but I also found his stage presence and sense of humor equal to the sounds. And of course, he wrote a song about baseball...
It's funny what you think about as you get lost in music. I imagined myself going on a road trip to Texas this summer where I would see Matt the Electrician play a set in Austin sandwiched between a series in San Antonio to watch the Missions* play and visits to friends in Dallas and Houston.
The imagination has a way of making Texas seem just small enough to make such a trip plausible.
*The Missions should be fun this year. Promotions from Fort Wayne and all. And hey... on the way to San Antonio we (or you) could stop in Tucson to see the AAA Padres. This sounds all too perfect!
Editor's Note: The T-shirt MtE is wearing is a Steve Poltz shirt. Watch some more of MtE's videos... it's one of the few shirts he owns. I'm not judging. I'm that way also. About socks.
Yesterday on Twitter I made a comment to San Diego musician Steve Poltz and he responded. The response has led me here... so listen to some music. It has a John Kruk reference. Which pretty much makes it a baseball song.
If I were going to think of things that are definitively "San Diego" I might say:
Zoo
Sea World
Wild Animal Park
Of course these are things more for the tourist in your life. Don't get me wrong, I go to all those places; duty often calls.
But if a San Diegan needed to reacquaint him/herself with the city, upon returning from a journey abroad, the "Definitively San Diego" list might go something like this:
Visit taco shop. Order a Carne Asada burrito and Horchata. Destroy it.
See a show at The Casbah or The Belly-Up.
Make sure Steve Poltz is playing at one of the above.
I imagine there are many ways you could go with such a list. Truthfully I've never even tried Horcahta... I just like to say it. But this is my list, and while I believe it to be accurate, it's subject to change.
Unfortunately I got hung up with Tesla videos on YouTube and then I watched Tupac get shot on ESPN's 30 for 30.
I was in Las Vegas when Tupac finally succumbed to his wounds back in '96. It's kind of amazing how prolific he was as an artist considering he was only 25 when he died.
