He also had his peak years when the Reds weren’t very good, 1982-1984.

War has him ranked as the 3rd best pitcher in the majors in 1982, 5th best in 1983, and the 15th best in 1984.

In ’82, he came in first or second in a lot of pitching categories, Whip, K, k/9, h/9, k/bb, and a 4th finish in ERA. He had a better year the ’82 Cy Young winner Steve Carlton, but Steve Rogers or Joe Niekro probably should have won the ’82 Cy.

Lonnie Smith for president: There does seem to be something similar between the exportation of baseball from Latin America and the history of exportation of other “crops” from there, mainly in the sense that the exportation seems much more beneficial to the controlling importers than the subserviant exporters. A small fraction of players at the baseball academies go on to get the big money (and make even more money for their MLB teams), while the majority of players are left to fend for themselves beyond baseball, presumably without any occupational training beyond how to turn a double play or cover first base on a bunt.

Also, the story did not shy away from baseball as a kind of immigration wave and the implications of relocating teenagers from the Caribbean to the middle of Iowa for a summer. When Mario Soto came up through the minors, the demographics of the sport were very different (though I went to university in Eugene about ten years after Mario was there — yes, he would have been starved for familiar faces, then and now). African-Americans have all but disappeared, and baseball is dominated by gringos and Latinos. What happened? SUGAR definitely comes right up to the point of analyzing professional baseball as a plantation system but stops short, sensible for a movie that works better as a thought piece than as propaganda. The question of the changing face(s) of baseball remains, though. Torii Hunter was scorched for his recent ham-handed remarks on the subject. Does anyone here have anything more lucid to offer…?

On an unrelated note, one of my favorite moments in the movie was when Sugar’s manager at Iowa was giving him a big pep talk and interrupted himself mid-inspiring-sentence to yell at the mascot, some kid shambling around without the head of the mascot costume on: “Hey Dave [or whatever his name was], don’t go anywhere. I still want to talk to you about that accountant.” It was just so random and low-rent, the kind of detail that made Bull Durham so enjoyable.

My comments on Sugar might include a few spoilers, so if you haven’t seen the flick stop reading here:

**

When I sat down to watch this I remarked to my wife, “You know, I hear a lot of these guys wind up in Upper Manhattan,” not knowing I’d spoiled the ending. And I loved that they didn’t use any “TV angle” action shots. My only complaint (a small one) is that it crammed a lot into one year when in “real life” perhaps the injury, drugs, stardom, self-doubt, etc is spaced over a couple of seasons. That seemed more likely to me. But, yeah, great baseball flick.

Recently saw and would recommend The Damned United, which is similar in it too is an un-cliched sports movie.