In response to a recent inquiry: "What would I like to see the Diamondbacks do?", here is a draft of primary gripes we have towards this front office:

1. Either reduce ticket prices until attendance is commensurate with a first place team in a supportive sports market, or quit whining about an uneducated, passive fan base and take some responsibility for lagging attendance. You get exactly the attendance you deserve, based on pricing and policies. Be forthright about pricing – dont promise or suggest what you cant deliver.

2. Take some responsibility for past public comments and actions. Kendrick has a history of publicly deflecting responsibility for his own, self-inflicted messes. EJ Montini. Wally Backman. And his favorite whipping boy, Colangelo. A public apology from Mr Kendrick will facilitate healing of a fractured fan base and is, we think, appropriate.  Not for taking over the team or disliking Colangelo – those are, or should be, largely private matters. But for a series of unnecessary public insults directed at the Diamondbacks’ founder. Colangelo, who developed one successful sports franchise and fathered another – after others had failed – didn’t come from a "business background"?  Sheesh. Jerry’s "inherited legacy" led to the Backman debacle, well after Kendrick had taken over and Jerry was shown the door?  Sheesh.  Aside from one’s personal feelings, publicly ripping Colangelo has turned off many valley sports fans. People whose greatest loyalty is not to a particular owner, but to standards of public decorum and values like respect and tradition.

At this point, one simply cant undo what’s been done regarding the original  uniform colors. The first colors dont only represent "Colangelo", they represent continuity and tradition. Values current ownership has, at best, only nominal, eleventh hour, damage control regard for. Wanna change "tradition" in the back office? Financially? That’s perfectly fine. Think you have a better "culture"? That’s a little trickier, but still not the essential issue. It’s how you project that culture. Dont insist on projecting your business differences with Colangelo onto valued – and in some cases cherished – franchise symbols. Like colors. Like plastering Arizona murals in the rotunda with casino ads. And so on. It’s incredibly tacky, a poor reflection on your stewardship and counterproductive to bringing a community together behind you.

Ken, if you do finally manage to earn a postseason berth in this pitiful National League, at least have the class to mention your predecessor’s role in placing Webb, Reynolds, Valverde, Drew and Lyon in your lap – a critical part of Jerry’s legacy that you’ve been uncharacteristically mum about. How hard is that? 

3. Refocus or replace ubiqitous spokesman Derrick Hall with a more credible, less aggressive alternative; someone comfortably versed in reality rather than hellbent on packaging it like the latest, bogus diet supplement. Hall’s relentless, over the top, message manipulation has worn thin and helps fuel long term fan cynicism.

4. Oh, and win something for a change. That always seems to cheer people up. You dont even have to win in a respectable major league at the moment . Or score as many runs as your opponents. Just win.

Few mlb promotions interest me much, but actober.com, which asks fans to recreate famous baseball moments in a self produced video, may be a keeper. It sounds like a fun way for fans to get away from the computer and physically engage the game’s history while creatively using both sides of their brains.

Imitating great players and feats got me reminiscing about how we did just that when I was a boy. If you grew up in the sixties or seventies, you were playing ball constantly; at least one – sometimes two – leagues of organized baseball, school recess and picnic softball, backyard and neighborhood whiffleball. We even played some stickball when I lived in Brooklyn. Back then, a parent or enterprising older sibling might have an 8mm camera, but most likely not. It didnt matter, because these were not one time creations to be captured on celluloid, but rote performances imprinted on memory.

Doug Haller, from the Arizona Republic, wrote a related article today, about how he recreated Joe Morgan’s arm flap and Willie Stargell’s windmill practice swings when he was growing up in Indiana . Unfortunately, I couldnt find a link, but Doug’s memory struck a chord, because me and my friends imitated stances and idiosynchrasies of the very same players – from the fields of Connecticut.

The key to Stargell’s windmill, for example, was that he didnt just rotate the bat in one circular direction, but interrupted each revolution with a little hitch near the top – in the opposite direction. And when the pitcher wound up, Willie would dramatically speed up the revolutions to ready his stick.

Morgan’s "chicken wing" arm flaps and Rod Carew’s open stance were popular, as were Reggie Jackson’s home run rips. The key to Reggie, was you had to discard the bat in one violent but seamless swing reversal, while rising from your coiled crouch to admire your tape job, straight up.

On the mound, there were really two guys. Juan Marichal and Boston’s Luis Tiant. I was a Yankee fan then, but Luis Tiant was just who you did. His jerky theatrics transcended club affiliation, at least on the whiffleball fields of America, where we were all childhood actors first. Eventually, I developed a dead on Jim Kaat quick pitch, but was almost thirty at the time, and in need of psychological counseling.

In the field, all the kids were Willie. Say Hey to the basket catch, preceded by a few fist pounds into the empty glove.

Growing up in the New York area, we also dabbled in more subtle, regional  specialities. Way back, the pigeon toed Roy White, batting left handed of course, with his bat held almost horizontal to the ground was a signature recreation. Bobby Murcer, bent almost 90′ at the waist, leaning over the plate, with deliberate, rotational practice swings, measuring the pitcher.

I was the only kid on the block who dared mimic Chris Chambliss, the least showy of that Yankee era. Imitating Chris was a death trap, like a stand up comic trying to ape some obscure B-list actor. But I had Chambliss down, from his stiff shouldered, rigid practice swings to his ungainly, lumbering egress from the left handed box. If you did Chris in front of 100 people, only half would even know who he was and the other forty seven would have no idea what you were doing, but two or three like, blessed souls would appreciate your peculiar genius.

Maybe the  most fun Yankee to imitate, though, was Mickey Rivers. For younger folks who never saw him, Mickey was the spittin’ image of Juan Pierre – with a hefty dollop of mustard on top. He’d waddle to the box from the on deck circle as if his shoes were too tight. On missed balls, his backswing would terminate with a signature, slight of hand 360′ bat flip, that looked like he was twirling a baton. Then he’d emphatically jut his neck forward, which was unusually long for his body, as if to shake off the whole unpleasant experience.

The field’s a stage, be it green or gray,

And all of us, players upon it.    

(photos from obits.eons.com, billdaniels.com, hickoksports.com )

You know your Head to Head fantasy season is off to a dubious start when, due to  today’s single Opening Day game, your opponent’s entire roster consists of Albert Pujols and your roster counters with… nobody. Not one player. Hopefully, Albert’ll strike out, make an error and get caught stealing, propelling me to three category "wins" – out of fifteen offensive measures. Wait for it!

Actually, I do have Cardinal Chris Duncan, a .204 lifetime hitter against lefties, and likely benchwarmer versus Tom Glavine, so who am I to complain? 

How to best open the 2007 season with a bang?  There’s an awful lot of predictions out there already, and I dont normally make a complete fool of myself until the end of April. But this man, an old Diamondhacks favorite, is burdened by no such self conscious restraints.

Enjoy.