You can judge a man on the way they react to unexpected awkwardness. I, for example, facing the prospect of a strange encounter, freeze up like a fainting goat and look down at my all-consuming connected light device, my iPhone. But not Rhys Hoskins. Oh no– perhaps with a bit of forethought, the Phillies rookie played it off so well after hitting his first Major League home run:

Chris Wheeler would’ve talked about this for two innings.

Try not to completely lose it when the crowd on the live version of Tom Petty’s Learning To Fly starts singing. Continue Reading

We’ve been asking for MLB to embrace individuals more and better promote their stars. So they give us Players Weekend:

Major Leaguers will let their personalities and passions shine like never before when the newly created Players Weekend takes center stage during all games from Friday, Aug. 25, to Sunday, Aug. 27. Those are just 20 of the nicknames that players across all clubs will wear on their backs while sporting colorful, non-traditional uniforms featuring alternate designs inspired by youth-league uniforms.

MLB and the MLB Players Association announced jointly on Wednesday that Players Weekend will be a player-focused field festival of sorts, different than anything seen before at the top rung of the sport. In addition to nicknames on the backs of jerseys made by Majestic, players can wear and use uniquely colored and designed spikes, batting gloves, wristbands, compression sleeves, catcher’s masks and bats.

During Players Weekend, the players also will be able to wear specially designed caps by New Era, and unique socks from Stance. Players also can wear T-shirts highlighting a charity or cause of their choice during pregame workouts and postgame interviews. The same authentic jerseys, tees, caps and socks are available now at the MLB.com/shop.

Additionally, during Players Weekend, the right sleeve of each player’s jersey will feature a patch with a blank space for him to write the name of a person or organization that was instrumental to his development. The patch features a new logo that shows a progression of five players increasing in size to demonstrate the process of a player’s path from Little League and youth leagues to Major League Baseball. The new “Evolution” logo, which symbolizes solidary with local youth baseball and softball organizations, will also appear on the back of each club’s cap and jerseys in place of the MLB silhouetted batter.

I… don’t hate this. Is it a little bit forced? Yeah, sure. But during a 162-game season there’s plenty of room for this sort of thing. The Phillies’ jersey is truly horrific, but the hat is fine, and some other jerseys aren’t bad:

Baseball needs a larger culture shift than just one blowout weekend, though. They’d be better served by loosening some uniform restrictions – socks, undershirts, and so on – and other conventions from a time gone by. Here’s the rule I’d use: If Mike Schmidt goes on a back in my day sermon as a result of a change, then it’s a good one. Basically you want to offend Schmidt. And my guess is that Schmidt will be very offended this entire weekend. Which is a start. I may watch for that reason alone. #pissoffschmidt

I was reluctant to use Outta Here in the headline because some might have considered it to be trite. But I’m not sure there is a better phrase that was a part of the fabric of Philly sports fans growing up in the 1990s than Harry’s signature call and its association with a majestic Darren Daulton home run.

For fans around the age of 30, give or take a few years, Darren Daulton was the first athlete we could truly embrace. The early 90s were a dark time in Philly sports, and Dutch was the one bright light– a heroic, quintessential Philly figure.

For me, it all started in 1990, on my seventh birthday. I went to a game – we had seats in the 300 level behind home – and Daulton was catching Terry Mulholland, a little-known, middling Phillies pitcher at the time. He threw a no-hitter that night, and the lasting image for me was Daulton running to the mound, hugging Mulholland and lifting him off the ground, an embrace Dutch would recreate three years later with Mitch Williams when the Phillies won the National League pennant.

In the interim, Dutch ushered in my baseball fandom. Maybe it’s because kids are so perceptive, but I recall studying his every move… the way he squatted a little bit higher when there were runners on base… the way he threw the ball back to the pitcher with a straight, lazy arm… the way he flapped his glove when he wanted a pitch in the dirt… the way he strolled to the mound with his backwards helmet, tucked his mask under his arm, and slapped the winning pitcher on the ass. His majestic, looping swing. The hair. He was a baseball player, the canonical Jake Taylor. He was the first athlete that led me to proclaim I’d follow him to wherever he was traded and that team would become my new favorite team (indeed, I loved the Marlins in 1997). Perhaps only Eric Lindros, Jay Wright and Chase Utley have inspired similar irrational fandom in me.

I feel like I remember seeing each of Daulton’s five career grand slams, one seated in the first row of the 200 level down the third base line, I think against the Dodgers. There was something about a Dutch home run– you knew it was gone from the moment it hit the bat and began its journey to the black tarp behind the Phillies bullpen. Outta here.

Daulton, more than any other athlete, was a part of our youth. He was Phillies baseball.

Everyone has a great Dutch story, many of which came during his stint on Talkin’ Baseball with Dutch on 97.5, a reclamation project that led to Dutch doing countless appearances around the Philly area. I went to see him at Tonelli’s in Horsham with my now wife in 2010. She explained to him that she had written a book about him when she was little. Daulton was more interested in her memory than mine – seeing him catch Mulholland’s no-hitter – and called his then girlfriend, yet another unreasonably hot woman, over to tell her that “this girl wrote a book about me!” I’m pretty cynical, but he seemed genuinely touched, and my wife still talks about it to this day.

Sometime around 1993, perhaps a year or two after, my mom was picking a friend up from the airport late one night and saw Dutch coming off a plane. Unkempt and understandably flustered, she ran over to him, sans pen, and asked if he could sign something for her son who was his biggest fan (along with all the other biggest fans). He talked to her for a minute and, graciously, explained that he didn’t have a pen either but if she could find one, he’d gladly sign something. She didn’t, and didn’t get the autograph. But we got the story.

These are two small anecdotes. They are the sorts of stories we all have. His reclamation tour, following a few years of drinking, domestic and, uh, UFO issues, allowed him to press the flesh with his many admirers. There are countless videos on YouTube from this tour, each with a smiling Dutch, usually chatting with fans at a bar. He was one of us, only better at baseball, better looking, and much, much cooler.

It’s hard to put into words what he meant to Phillies fans growing up in the 90s, and I’m doing a poor job of trying. His story is so well known that there’s little I, or anyone else, can say that hasn’t already been said. But it is a sad, sad day when your favorite player dies. Today is that day. Rest in peace, Dutch.