Sands Beach Birds

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As often as I go to Sands Beach at UCSB for Western Snowy Plover docent duty, I still get surprises. This Thanksgiving Matt Hall joined me for my 11-1 shift and we had a memorable outing. For one thing, the wind was fierce, making a 73-degree day bone-chillingly cold. Nothing could be seen floating, but flocks of shorebirds, including the Snowies, took off and swerved in unison over the heavy waves. A Killdeer greeted our arrival on the beach, and four Marbled Godwits were poking in the sand near the docent station. I can’t remember seeing so many Snowy Plovers nestling in the sand: the blackboard said that 225 had been counted recently. Of course, Black-bellied Plovers were massively abundant, but there were fewer Semipalmated Plovers than I expected. There was a Western Grebe, quite dead, sprawled on the sand; four Turkey Vultures took turns approaching their Thanksgiving meal.
While watching the Snowies, we saw one, then two, stockier, browner birds picking at the wrack: Dunlins. One smaller sandpiper with light legs wandered by, probably a Least Sandpiper. Vees of Brown Pelicans soared in the wind, and a lone Whimbrel joined other birds at the water’s edge. The day’s highlight was a majestic Peregrine Falcon that landed on a log in the protected area of the Slough and sat there as we approached the edge of the fenced-off area. Its black hood set off the bright yellow above the upper beak and on the powerful talons. It showed off its darting flight before re-alighting on the log, then eventually took off inland, scattering songbirds in front of it.
We headed down to Coal Oil Point where the exposed rocks held a mass of birds, mostly Western Gulls, but also a bunch of Willets and more Black-bellied Plovers. One red-billed Heermann’s Gull settled in, and four Royal Terns grandly faced into the wind, in front of eight diminutive, by comparison, Forster’s Terns. As we headed back, we saw a single, larger gull standing at water’s edge: a Glaucous-winged Gull, a treat.
As we drove out, something on the dirt road attracted both a Black Phoebe and a Say’s Phoebe, along with White-crowned Sparrows and a California Towhee. And Devereux Slough, which had been bone dry a week ago, had water from Wednesday night’s rain and ducks had descended – from where? – mostly Mallards but also American Wigeon, Coot, six Redheads and a single female Ring-necked Duck. One Domestic Mallard, slightly larger and white-fronted, stood out among the others. Double-crested Cormorants and Black-necked Stilts, regular Slough denizens, rounded out the company.
Back home on Lilac Drive I was happy to find Townsend’s and Orange-crowned Warblers mixing in with the Yellow-Rumps and Ruby-crowned Kinglets. Everyone seems to be pointing to the Christmas Bird Counts starting in three weeks.

Twins Manager

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The Minnesota Twins began their offseason by hiring Rocco Baldelli from the Tampa Bay Rays to be their new manager, replacing Hall of Famer Paul Molitor, 2017’s AL Manager of the Year. The Twins’ dismal season was not Molitor’s fault, and no one found particular fault with anything he did, except not winning more games, which is really up to the players. We should also note that the Twins finished second in their division, ahead of Detroit, Kansas City and Chicago – none of which fired its manager. The Twins will offer Molitor another job and hope he remains in their system, another sign that he didn’t really mess up.
Nevertheless, I am totally on board with the decision, if for no other reason than it gives me, and all Twins fans, something new to look forward to. I’m not aware of any hot rookies on the way, and no one expects the Twins to deviate from their policy of not entering the sweepstakes for big-name free agents. As to the core of remaining players, none appear to be on a trajectory toward major improvement. In short, if the Twins began 2019 with the same-old, same-old, there would have been a major excitement deficiency, not to mention a fall-off in ticket buyers. The easiest way to inject interest is to introduce a new manager, who may have a new way of doing things or connecting with his players, even if turns out he is just putting lipstick on a pig.
Of course, the easiest way for the Twins to regain relevance is to resurrect the careers of their potential superstars, Miguel Sano and Byron Buxton. You could be fairly sure it wasn’t going to happen with Molitor. Maybe Baldelli can strike a chord and offer them a fresh start. As I see it, their problems are not physical: Sano has lacked maturity and Buxton confidence. If a new manager cannot make a difference, it will be time for the Twins to move on. The simple possibility that he will make a difference is enough for me to look forward to the season ahead.

Serena’s Meltdown

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Even after the NFL’s opening weekend and Novak Djokovic’s dominating performance in the men’s final, the sports world wants to talk about Serena Williams, perhaps because the sports world is equally divided on the subject. I won’t repeat the particulars, so well known by now, but I will emphasize my view that the assessed penalties in no way contributed to her loss to Naomi Osaka. The point penalty was given at the start of Osaka’s service game – hardly a pivotal moment – which Osaka handily then won at love. The more important game penalty was also given on Osaka’s service game, which she was likely, but not certainly, to have won, based on the success she had serving during the match. In the immediately following game, down 5-3, Serena played her best tennis, holding serve at love. It appeared that she would take this fighting spirit, plus her Grand Slam experience, and break Osaka at 5-4, but she couldn’t. With all the distractions, and the crowd rooting against her, Osaka hit two service winners and closed out the set and the match.
There’s no question that Serena would not have been as upset if she had been winning. Her meltdown was undoubtedly amplified by her frustration at losing to a 20-year-old player she thought she should beat. It was losing her serve at 3-1 that made her internalize the injustice she felt for the first code violation. Had she won that game I doubt any of this would have happened. But the biggest contributor to Serena’s outburst, in my view, was her sense of entitlement. She has been so glorified, put on the cover of Vogue, anointed as the greatest ever, marveled over for her motherhood, that her attitude was, “how you can do this to me? I am Serena Williams!” At 36, most athletes are more mature and have gone past “the-world-is-against-me.”
It is fair to quibble with the umpire’s assessing a code violation for coaching from the stands if he didn’t informally caution Serena first – although there’s no reason to think she would have responded any better to such a warning. The penalty for smashing her racquet was automatic and necessary. Otherwise, are we – and our young tennis players – to think this is acceptable behavior on the tennis court? At this point, Serena has to rein her emotions in, say this is the finals of the U.S.Open and I’m not going to be distracted. Instead, she got ugly, really ugly. Even if she were in the right, which she wasn’t, it was not her place to demand an apology from the referee and berate him. Worse, she brought her infant daughter into the discussion and accused the referee of sexism (which we subsequently learned was baseless, based upon his actions toward male players). Even after the match, when she could have reflected on the outrageousness of her behavior, she posited herself as a champion for women.
Granted, I have never been a fan of Serena’s and watch women’s tennis, if at all, mainly in the hope that someone less arrogant and bullying will beat her. But even so, I was shocked by the things she said to the chair umpire, who was just doing his job, however imperfectly. Who is she to say, “You will never do one of my matches again”? Can you think of another sport where the athlete could or would treat an official this way? And Serena, I fear, based on the media reaction I’ve seen, will get away with it.

All-Star Game ’18

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Based on the 8-6 final score and the AL win, you’d think I enjoyed this year’s All-Star Game. It was, however, a total bore. Almost all the scoring came on solo home runs, which made me realize that is one of the least interesting plays in baseball – certainly the least interesting run-producing play. There is no anticipation, no drama, no involvement by the other 16 players. How much more exciting it is when there are runners on first and third and one out. Anything can happen, any outcome is possible, every fielder has to be on their toes. Add to that the on-field interviews, which reminded the viewer that this was not a real game, just an exhibition. Then – and this has been an issue for decades – the implicit need to get everyone in the game means that when the game is on the line, it’s being decided not by the big names, but by the guy who’s there because the San Diego Padres have to be represented.

On Watching Soccer

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The month-long drama of the World Cup – and, indeed, it is drama! – is giving me an appreciation of international soccer (“football,” to the rest of the world) and one very significant way it differs from American sports, or at least the way Americans watch sports. The big difference: games are often decided by something other than which team plays best, and everyone accepts that. When Portugal lost to Uruguay, Cristiano Ronaldo calmly said, in his post-game news conference something to the effect of, “I thought we were the better team today, but they scored more goals, and that’s football.”
In the games I’ve watched, relatively few goals have been scored by players passing the ball to each other until someone shoots it in the net. First, there have been a record number of “own goals,” where a player inadvertently causes the ball to go into his own net. Next, an inordinate number of goals come from penalty kicks, which more often than not result from an insignificant hand ball or foul – “insignificant” in that the play would not otherwise have resulted in a score, or even a scoring chance. Third, a good number of goals come off free kicks and corner kicks, which again involve plays that otherwise would not have produced a score. Hitting a ball off an opponent so that it goes across the end line is a whole lot easier than hitting it through the defense and past a goalie.
You can say that the better team is more likely to get more corner kicks, free kicks and penalty chances, and that is true and the law of averages would play out in a game that ended up, say, with a 5-3 score. But the last four World Cup matches have been 0-0 at the half, and one goal is often all that is needed for a victory.
In past World Cups there was also the issue of human fallibility in the form of the referee, who might or might not see a hand ball, who might or might not think a challenge in the box warranted a penalty kick, and soccer fans all recognized that this was an integral part of the game. Now the World Cup has added instant replay, or VAR (Video Assistant Referee), which all but eliminates the prospect of egregious blunders. On the other hand, it has increased the chances of calling fouls that would have escaped the naked eye, much like instant replay in baseball that reveals a base runner momentarily losing contact with a base.
In baseball, basketball and football, one team can exert its superiority (for that day) over the course of a game; it is unlikely that one fluke play will determine the outcome. If it does, the American fan will feel aggrieved and complain bitterly that he was robbed. In soccer, the fan will shrug and say, “that’s football.”
I could point to any number of games to support my thesis, but I’ll just mention the most recent game I watched, England v. Colombia. England was methodical, Colombia flashy, but the course of play mattered little. England’s one goal combined three of the factors mentioned above: a corner kick, a referee’s interpretation and a penalty kick. The 1-0 score held until the last few seconds of stoppage time, when Colombia scored off a corner kick. The game was then decided by yet another matter of chance more than skill: a penalty kick shoot-out. I say “chance,” because a goalie’s ability to thwart a penalty is solely a result of his guessing where the shooter will aim.
Or I could point to today’s other game, in which Sweden defeated Switzerland, 1-0, when a Swedish player’s shot deflected off a Swiss leg into the goal, despite Switzerland’s controlling play for more than 60% of the game. There have been some great goals resulting from wonderful team play, but just as often there has been luck. Only it’s not considered luck. It’s considered football.
Postscript:
I watched a half-dozen more games without any new revelation or any reason to adjust my analysis. Take only the example of today’s final, won 4-2 by France over Croatia: France’s first goal came off a set piece set up by what the commentators called a dive just outside the penalty area and it went in, an own goal, off a Croatian head. France’s second goal was a penalty kick, resulting from an accidental hand ball. Croatia controlled a majority of the play and, again in the commentator’s words, played better. France’s play, he thought, was disappointing; but they scored four goals – a rarity in the tournament – and therefore won. What a sport!

Golden State Warriors

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At this point we don’t know if the Golden State Warriors will survive Game 7 in Houston on Monday and advance to the NBA Finals, but the show they put on in Game 6 was both thrilling in itself and reason to hope we get to watch them some more this year.
I turned the TV on at halftime, when the Dubs were 10 points down to the Rockets and the halftime crew, Charles Barkley in particular, thought the end of their season might be near. The third quarter, however, started with a sudden 8-0 run for Golden State, and when you next looked up, they were leading by 20. The final score was 115-86, which meant the Warriors had outscored the Rockets by almost 40 points in one half. It was, however, how they did it that was so exciting.
First, it was their defense. James Harden, the league and Rockets’ MVP, had to this point in the playoffs appeared unstoppable, much like LeBron James. The Warriors, however, guarded him tightly through screens out deep, and when he drove to the basket, three bodies collapsed on him – and he didn’t get the foul calls he expected (maybe this will change when the series shifts back to Houston). Clearly, this tight coverage and his inability to defeat it damaged his confidence, for he began shooting three-point shots that missed the basket completely, as did his teammates.
Energized by their defensive successes, the Warriors’ offense exploded. First was Klay Thompson, who couldn’t miss a three-pointer, including an exclamation point from five feet behind the arc. Kevin Durant, who had shot 3-for-11 in the first half and had been widely criticized the last two games for playing isolation ball, found his mid-range jumper and showed that he can’t be guarded. The coups de grace, as usual, came from Steph Curry, who alternated three-point shots that seemed to barely scrape the net (like a perfect dive that barely ripples the water surface) with impossible driving layups through and around defenders a half-foot taller. Curry plays with such evident pleasure that when he’s hot he lights up his entire team and the arena above him. Last night was such a night.
I should add a PS on the Timberwolves’ quick exit from the playoffs at the Rockets’ hands. While they have three legitimate potential stars – and Jimmy Butler and Karl-Anthony Towns were just voted to the NBA All-Star Third Team – they show none of the cohesiveness of the Warriors. Once Anthony Wiggins, their other #1 draft choice, or Towns gets the ball, the play is usually over. There is no one on the team like Curry, who is constantly running with a purpose and will appear out of nowhere to take a quick three. Watching the T’Wolves play, even when they win, is drudgery. Watching the Warriors is magic.
By way of contrast, the Cavaliers’ win the next night in game 7 against the Celtics was a clunker. Cleveland’s offense consisted of LeBron James either driving or backing in to the basket for a layup or firing a pass to an open teammate in the corner who then missed a three-point shot. Boston, aside from some baby-hooks by Al Horford, was content to run a weave and pass around the arc until someone decided it was his turn to miss a three. Combined, the two teams were 16-for-74(!) from three-point range – hardly inspiring basketball and not much fun to watch.

May Birds ’18-’19

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Warblers were scarce in Central Park this spring (2019), although I hear that I missed the best day, May 16. I never came across a “wave”: I generally spotted isolated individuals and never saw more than eight species a day. If there was a highlight, it was coming across 2 Canada and 1 Mourning Warbler on a late trip to the park, May 29, and the continuing sound of Blackpolls the last week of May. The Mourning – which I’ve seen only once before, briefly, with Paul Egeland at 3610 Northome Rd – jumped up to the border fence along a path, then quickly flew off into the brush toward the lake. His gray head contrasting sharply with olive back was vivid. The first Canada I saw was a singing male, just west of Azalea Pond. Otherwise, the dominant sound, apart from the Robins, was the song of the Wood Thrush, back and forth through the woods. All month, the thrushes were prominent – Veery, Hermit and Swainson’s in addition to Wood, and I tentatively identified a Gray-Cheeked, based on its lack of eye-ring and any auburn coloring around the cheek and throat. There was one warbler that arrived en masse: the Ovenbird. At one point (5/14?) they were so underfoot it was hard not to step on them.

2018: May is, appropriately, the season for the May Apple in the Central Park Ramble, also the Virginia Bluebell. And May is the time the warblers, at least this year with its late spring, arrive species-by-species, with the males in the vanguard. On May 1 I counted four warblers, led by the easy-to-spot Black and White. The highlight of May 2 was watching three species in full song: Prairie, Black-throated Blue and Northern Waterthrush. Today the Park was alive with the song of the Northern Parula, which I pronounce by accenting the first syllable while the consensus seems to have settled on the second. Just like I say “Plover” rhymes with “hover,” while others prefer “clover.” The other new treats were close and prolonged views of the Magnolia and Black-throated Green, both quiet. You do wonder about warbler names: have I ever seen a Magnolia in such a tree? and where is the “green” on the Black-throated Green? So far, I’m up to 14 warbler species, with many obvious, and some less so, to come. Interestingly, the flood of Yellow-Rumps that usually precede the warbler wave by a week showed up just today.
In other bird news, today I saw my first Chimney Swift of the year. From my birding in the ‘60s I associate Chimney Swifts with Memorial Day and the end of spring. Great Crested Flycatchers, too. Maybe this fellow was early. Or maybe it’s climate change.
May 6 was cool and gray, and both birds and birders, despite its being Sunday, were sparse. I saw 10 warbler species, but for most it was a single example. The newcomer was the Chestnut-sided: there were a couple and they were singing. High in an oak I saw a Rose-breasted Grosbeak and an Indigo Bunting, but the wave, if there is to be one, is still to come.

Twins Preview

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At ten games into the season, it’s a fool’s game to make a prediction for how the year will unfold. One of the fun things about a baseball season is seeing a closer emerge from bullpen obscurity or a rookie – a la Cody Bellinger and Aaron Judge – lead the league in home runs. All you go on is unwarranted projections from last year’s team; and of course how many games a team wins also depends on the quality of the opposition, a factor I have no good way of judging. Nevertheless, there are reasons for optimism as I look at the Twins’ chances in 2018.
Pitching: This is the biggest upgrade and biggest cause of hope. Getting Jake Odorizzi was the steal of the winter, and adding Lance Lynn gives the Twins a legitimate five-man rotation once Ervin Santana comes back from his finger injury. Of course, I am also assuming/hoping that the problematic Kyle Gibson finally turns the corner and that phenom Jose Berrios matures into a lights-out pitcher for more than five innings. The relief corps is always a work-in-progress, as the manager does situational testing. Last year at this time who had even heard of Trevor Hildenberger, yet he became one of the Twins’ most dependable arms. So far this year, however, he hasn’t had the same success. Most observers’ principal concern is having 41-year-old Fernando Rodney as the closer, but Addison Reed is a more than competent backup if Rodney falters. There are also a half-dozen pitchers-in-waiting in the minor league system should any of the current crop of starters and relievers falter or get injured. In sum, there is no ace, but outside of Justin Verlander and Max Scherzer, how many real aces are out there?, and the Twins have pitching that is good enough to keep them in most games.
Hitting: This will make or break the Twins’ year. Specifically, Miguel Sano could carry the team with his power, or he could be a strikeout machine. Byron Buxton could bedevil the opposition with his speed, or he could continue to flail helplessly at curve balls. Jorge Polanco was a .200 hitter for half the season, a .300 hitter the other half: which will it be? Logan Morrison hit 38 homers last year but can’t make contact this spring: is it a slump or was last year an aberration? Max Kepler suddently became overmatched against lefthanded pitching. Still young and learning, can he turn that around? Perhaps the most overlooked question mark is Eddie Rosario, a streak hitter who Molitor has been batting third and fourth this year without much result. When he’s hot he can hit anybody, but if he fails it will be almost as big a hole in the lineup as Sano. Joe Mauer, one assumes, will continue hitting as he always does, with not much power, although being in the last year of his huge contract might give him a little extra motivation. There’s no Jose Altuve in the lineup, someone you can always count on to get a hit; but there is plenty of potential firepower if even two-thirds of the question marks are answered positively.
Defense: It’s fun to talk about the Twins in the field, and this may be the component that ensures an over-.500 record. Buxton is recognized as the game’s best defender, which also helps the four fielders around him. Brian Dozier won a Gold Glove at 2nd, Mauer is steady, if not flashy, at first, and Sano’s arm at 3d is a marvel and his dexterity surprising. Jason Castro was signed for his defensive skills, framing pitches and blocking balls in the dirt; and Rosario has led the league in outfield assists. The shortstops and other outfielders are only average, but there are no clunkers in the lot.
Manager: For his first two years I thought Paul Molitor didn’t bring enough fire to the table, and I regret his reluctance to use bunts, hit-and-runs, squeeze plays – any of the tricks of the manager’s trade – but his results, especially last year’s, speak for themselves. The players seem to respect him, which is something. In all, I’d rate him a neutral force on the season’s outcome.
Conclusion: I don’t know if the Twins have improved enough to overtake the Indians or the Astros, and I always worry about the chokehold the Yankees have on every Twins team; but the playoffs should be well within their grasp. It should be a fun summer.

Minnesota Sports

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My years in Minnesota we reveled in being a mid-market, or even small-market, team, playing over our heads with unheralded athletes. The big free-agent signings were for NY, LA and less thrifty owners. If we did overpay, it was for a local hero, a Kevin Garnett we signed out of high school, a Joe Mauer whom we drafted out of St. Paul. So when the Timberwolves traded with Chicago for Jimmy Butler, an all-star in his prime, it sent shock waves through the Twin Cities psyche. “You mean, we’re actually trying to win something this year?,” as opposed to building something for the future, was the common reaction. If, in fact, Butler hadn’t gotten hurt, there was a chance the move could have worked. As it is, the Wolves are scraping to make the playoffs, where it is doubtful they will win one game; but the season has been more interesting and fun than usual. (The flip side is that the players traded for Butler are doing quite well for the Bulls, and it is anyone’s guess which team will be the ultimate profiter.)
The Vikings, of course, did the Wolves one better. By giving Kirk Cousins the richest(?) guaranteed contract ever, they have set the Super Bowl, if not the NFL title, as their only acceptable goal. Given that the NFC title game this year was fought between two backup quarterbacks, it will be intriguing to see where all the teams with new leaders end up next season.
No one, of course, expected the Twins to do much in the offseason. First, they have a reputation, long-earned, for cautious spending. Second, they did quite well, unexpectedly so, with their young squad last year, and it was reasonable to hope that a year’s growth would bring those prospects even further along. But the pitching was an issue. Months went by and not much happened. A few relievers were signed: Zach Duke and Addison Reed. Then a closer, Fernando Rodney, although in his 40s and having played for eight other teams it’s hard to believe he was much in demand. Then, out of the blue, the Twins signed Jake Odorizzi, a more than competent starter from Tampa Bay. Next, Logan Morrison, as the Rays continued their fire sale. The deal was only for one year, but there weren’t many 38-home run hitters available. And last, they found another quality starter, Lance Lynn. In the space of a few weeks, the Twins went from a “can-they-do-it-again” team to a favorite to make the playoffs.
The expectations of Minnesota sports fans have ratcheted up several notches. Now we will see if the big bucks deliver.