“The Yankee Flipper” – The Baseball Project
(Words/music: Scott McCaughey, available on The Baseball Project, Vol. 1: Frozen Ropes and Dying Quails, Yep Roc 2008)
I’m the first to admit that I take baseball for granted. I don’t watch as many games as some of my friends, yet I’m always sad when there isn’t a game to watch. I guess at this point in my life it’s one of those things that makes me happy just knowing that it’s there. If I don’t always watch a game (and this year, watching Mets games wasn’t always a relaxing decision), I still like seeing Baseball Tonight or catching scores on the radio. Even if I’m not actively watching games every night, I feel better knowing that somewhere a baseball game is going on.
So when I heard that Scott McCaughey, Steve Wynn, and Peter Buck (among others) collaborated on an album of baseball themed songs, I immediately wanted to hear it. These songs lace together the type of power pop Wynn and McCaughey usually create with stories pulled from baseball lore. In particular, “The Yankee Flipper” immediately stuck out because I remember watching Jack McDowell pitch for the White Sox and Yankees in the 1990s. It turns out that the night before McDowell’s infamous incident where he flipped off Yankee fans, he was out drinking with McCaughey, R.E.M.’s Mike Mills, and Dennis Diken from the Smithereens. McCaughey claims that the story is true, and given McDowell’s own musical pursuits it’s entirely believable. It’s also one of the few instances on The Baseball Project, an album culled from recalled moments of fandom, where the fans in question had an influence on the game itself. Sure, it was ultimately McDowell’s lousy performance (and short fuse) that led to his back page infamy, but it’s also an instance where some diehard fans felt partly responsible. I’m sure that the rock boys felt bad that their friend experienced the backlash (just imagine what that would have been like in the YouTube era!), yet McCaughey feels responsible without ever feeling remorse. After all, it makes him a part of one of our era’s more colorful footnotes.
So tonight, as the Yankees appear on the verge of putting baseball to bed for the winter, consider this a salute (not necessarily the same salute as Black Jack, unless you’re a Philly / Boston fan) to baseball and a reminder that spring training can’t come soon enough.More on The Baseball Project: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm
For my slightly irritated friends this morning.
reblogged from somesongsconsidered
One thing you can say about time is that it always passes. One thing you can say about the game is that it's not getting any faster.
You can get tangled up in a ball of rubber bands and twine. The cowhide and pine tar, snuff, spit and chalk dust lines.
- The Baseball Project.
(If you are a baseball fan and you haven’t listened to them yet? Do it. Now.)
Two round trippers and a no-hitter, that’s Rick Wise, not Bobby Wine
So long ago, so long, past time, are you past your prime?
(I must second this endorsement.)
reblogged from dreamincolorx
"Nostalgia can be deadly, and often delusional."
The baseball fans out there have already discovered and loved Vol. 1: Frozen Ropes and Dying Quails, or they need to put the album on their must-own list. A couple of people I know just recently fell in love with the album, so I’m posting this.
Robert Christgau in the Consumer Guide, April 2009:
Vol. 1: Frozen Ropes and Dying Quails [Yep Roc, 2008]
All public endeavors have their journeymen, and if Steve Wynn and Scott McCaughey aren’t obscurities like Ryan Freel and Alfredo Amezaga, they’re certainly half flashes like Ty Wigginton and Willie Bloomquist—diligent, productive, enduring, their great moments well gone now and also not all that great. That would be the Dream Syndicate and the Young Fresh Fellows, although this band-in-concept-only is more like McCaughey’s shifting Minus Five, complete with retro-alt songcraft and Peter Buck moonlighting away. It turns out that, like folk music before it, the static, jangly retro-alt template makes a dandy setting for topical songs. Just going by tune and lyrical hook, the only dud here is McCaughey’s weeper about Mark McGwire, and as an amateur expert in the field I swear several hit the ball on the sweet spot: tributes to Curt Flood, Harvey Haddix, Big Ed Delahanty, and a closer with his arm like hamburger meat. A
Further reading: Remembrance of Seasons Past
Now, go buy the album if you haven’t already.
