STARGELL/ORTIZ COMPARISON

Subjective similarities:

Nicknames: Willie “Pops” Stargell

David “Papi” Ortiz

Both are wildly popular in their adopted hometowns. Stargell was the emotional leader of the Pittsburgh teams of the 70s, the most popular player that brought the city a long-awaited championship. Ortiz does the same thing in 2004 with the Red Sox. Both have been valued as the best “clutch” hitter of their generation.

Both are/were massive, lumbering lefties

Stargell: 6’2” 225 lbs.

Ortiz: 6’4” 230 lbs.

Ortiz came into the league at the age of 21 to a small market team. Stargell came into the league at 22.

Stargell’s best season came as a 31 year old in 1971:

.295/48/125/.398/.698

Ortiz’ best season to date (2005) is pretty comparable

.300/47/148/.397/.604

Stargell's year was a little better because he slugged .248 over the league average.
Papi was just .177 over the league in 2005...

Stargell didn’t have the benefit of the DH, and therefore was more susceptible to nagging injuries. He never played more than 145 games in a season. He also never had the benefit of playing with a dominant slugger like Manny Ramirez.

That said, barring injury, Ortiz will ultimately be remembered as the greater player. He has another 8 seasons or so to surpass Stargell’s statistics and he plays in the second biggest market in baseball.

On the other hand, in 1996, at the age of 28 (Ortiz is 29 now), Mo Vaughn went for .326/55/143/.420/.576, a significantly better season than Ortiz’s 2005 campaign. Mo was another giant lumbering lefty (6’1” ???) who flamed out at the age of 34, before he could reach important career milestones. Mo had hit 190 HRs by the age of 29. Papi hit 177…

Supplies...

I signed on to teach another year at Republicanalia High School of Mary. They made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Actually, more accurately, I made them an outrageous proposal that I couldn't ever imagine them accepting, and they more or less accepted it. So, next year, I will receive my normal raise, but will be teaching 2 less classes. More importantly, this new schedule means I only have to be at work every other day (we have block scheduling).

What will I do with my newfound free time? In theory, I will spend most of that time in coffeeshops in Topanga Canyon (I plan to move out of Hollywood at the end of the summer), finishing up el novelo. In reality, I will probably spend most of my time sending out fantasy baseball trades. When the season ends, I might start screwing around on myspace or maybe I'll update my blog more often. What's become clear, though, is that art is a luxury afforded to kids with trust funds. I didn't really think that was particularly true until I left Columbia and realized that I was one of TWO people who planned on getting a job. The rest of my classmates are still in NYC, living in the same UWS apartments, hacking out pages of their bad short story collection and eating bad Donkatsu at Cafe Swish. (for 9.50!)

Do I begrudge them their leisure? Of course. I am as petty as they come. At least once a day I curse loudly at those idiots whose parents believe in their talent enough to stake them to a responsibility-free mid-twenties. Do I begrudge my parents for not giving me a similar deal? Surprisingly... no. Why the fuck should they pay for me to romanticize myself in the context of New York City?

At the same time, working drains the writing impulse. I think whichever French writer was right: writing comes from boredom and dissatisfaction with the surrouding world. When I come home from even an easy day at work, I'm too exhausted to do anything but watch TV. Some of this I blame on my insane commute (50 round trip miles a day) and my dislike for Los Angeles. But, at the same time, there's no job I could possibly have in New York which wouldn't require longer hours and a similar subway commute. And there's certainly no job I could have in New York that would pay me a livable wage to work 10 days a month...