No, it's not us.

By Chas

As father and son tandems go, we were hardly the Griffeys, but we both played over 10 years in the majors, so that’s something to be proud of.

Father began his career in the midwest, but it wasn’t until he moved further west that he enjoyed major league success. It was there that he played in three different post-seasons, but never the World Series, although one of his teammates almost single-handedly propelled his team to the series one year.

Father accumulated over 2000 hits and 50 wins above replacement (WAR) in his career. That might qualify him for some people’s “Hall of Very Good,” despite the fact he dropped off the ballot after his first year.

Father was probably better than Ken Griffey Sr., in fact, but I suppose that point is debatable.

What’s not debatable is that son was nowhere near as good as Ken Griffey Jr., although the potential was there.

Son was a first-round draft pick (#3 overall), out of a college in the same city where dad enjoyed his best professional years. He actually even played with Griffey Jr., albeit very briefly, during one of his nine major league stops.

Son was supposed to be better than his father, but never lived up to expectations, although he did show a few sustained flashes of his five-tool ability, including one 30-30 season, a Gold Glove, and breaking one team’s record for most assists in a season by an outfielder.

Son returned home for his final year in the majors, playing 38 games for his dad’s primary team in the city he grew up in.

Who are we?

Where am I? Who am I? How did I come to be here? What is this thing called the Pine? How did I come to the Pine? Why was I not consulted? And if I am compelled to take part in this, where is the man in charge? I want to see him?

Actually, I’ll settle for the answer to the question, who am I? But remember to try this without research. If the answer doesn’t come to you immediately, be sure to share your thought process, as you may assist another in his or her quest to help me answer this “existential” question.

By Chas

I was drafted by a west coast team, but most people don’t know me for that. I was supposed to be the successor to a guy who failed at replacing a legend, a man whom some wonder why he didn’t receive more Hall of Fame support.

I played only parts of three seasons out west before being traded to an eastern team, in a deal for a player who could be described as a professional hitter (a guy who won four batting titles), although he was in the twilight of his career.

I played 5+ years there for a team on the rise. We went from 64 wins in my first full year to a postseason berth in my last. While there, I set a major league record (that since has been broken) for most assists in a season at a position not known for them.

I left as a free agent, though, to sign with another eastern team. We turned our fortunes around in my first year there, which was the beginning of a long run of sustained success. In fact, we made the playoffs in all of my three seasons there, but lost in the World Series twice. We even beat my previous team in a playoff series once, and I played a pivotal role on a series-deciding play.

My postseason numbers were solid, if not spectacular: a .785 OPS in 92 AB over 28 games.

I moved on from there, heading west again, and played one final year for a fourth team where I served as the backup to another player whose Hall of Fame candidacy has become a lightning-rod for controversy.

I didn’t reach 1000 hits or 100 homers over my 12 years in the majors, but I held my own. Even though I played the requisite 10 seasons, my name never appeared on the Hall of Fame ballot.

Who Am I?

Where am I? Who am I? How did I come to be here? What is this thing called the Pine? How did I come to the Pine? Why was I not consulted? And if I am compelled to take part in this, where is the man in charge? I want to see him?

Actually, I’ll settle for the answer to the question, who am I? But remember to try this without research. If the answer doesn’t come to you immediately, be sure to share your thought process, as you may assist another in his or her quest to help me answer this “existential” question.

By Chas

I was the last switch-hitter to win the American League MVP, but you probably don’t remember me for that.

In the time that has passed since, six different switch-hitters have won the National League MVP (Jimmy Rollins being the most recent), but not a single player from the junior circuit.

I played for a team that had a pretty good run, although we fell short of the World Series the year I won MVP. Not the next year, though. We won it all that season, but I missed a good portion of the year due to a contract dispute. It wasn’t our only championship, however, but I never quite lived up to expectations in any of the World Series I played in.

A few years later, our team underwent a fire sale of sorts. Our owner either traded away or allowed all our best players to leave via free agency. He tried to trade me too–twice–but the commissioner invoked his “in the best interests of baseball” powers and blocked both trade attempts. A couple years later, we finished in last place and I was finally traded away, to our nearest geographic rival.

My first year with my new team was a good one, but after that my very solid career was already on the down side by the time I turned 30. A little substance abuse problem had something to do with it.

Despite flaming out early, I was selected to six all-star teams, but I wasn’t good enough to receive serious Hall of Fame consideration. I peaked at just under 10% of the vote, and dropped off the ballot after four years. Not bad for a poor kid from Louisiana.

Who Am I?

****Remember, try this without research. Release your inner James Joyce and show us your stream of consciousness as you decipher the answer. Add to that the teachings of Myagi: patience. If you don’t get the answer right away, give your brain a chance to work if for no other reason than to stay in the discussion. You may not have THE answer, but you might prompt another reader by asking the right question.

By Chas

I played most of my career with the same team, but for some reason, I’m almost as well known for the team who traded me away after I totaled 99 plate appearances in parts of two seasons.

OK, maybe it’s an exaggeration to say I’m just as well known for the team with whom I batted fewer than 100 times as for the team I played 14 years with. After all, I did hit over 300 homers and drive in almost 1000 runs for the latter team. It’s just that the trade is actually “discussed” in one episode of a popular sitcom.

I also got the chance to face my former team in the postseason three times. I batted .366 against them across those three series, but we only won one of them. Both times they beat us were in the league championship series, helping to prevent me from ever playing in the World Series. In fact, my team has never reached the Fall Classic. Not with me, not without me.

I hit over 40 homers and drove in over 100 runs in three consecutive seasons, but I only made the all-star team once. I also led the league in strikeouts in two of those years. Another dubious distinction I hold is I have the lowest stolen base success rate in history. Actually, they didn’t keep track of caught stealing prior to 1954, but since then my 25% 20% success rate (6 SB, 24 CS in 30 attempts) ranks dead last.

Who Am I?

****Remember, try this without research. Release your inner Jim Joyce and show us your stream of consciousness as you decipher the answer. Add to that the teachings of Myagi: patience. If you don’t get the answer right away, give your brain a chance to work if for no other reason than to stay in the discussion. You may not have THE answer, but you might prompt another reader by asking the right question.

By Chas

I was involved in one of the most famous trades in baseball history. It was a one-for-one trade, me-for-him, no one else involved. Unfortunately, I was traded for a player who was extremely popular, and, in retrospect, my new team got the short end of the deal.

At the time of the trade, I was 29 years old and coming off the third top ten MVP finish of my career, and perhaps my best year of all of them. My counterpart was almost three years younger and had just finished in the top five in MVP voting for the second consecutive year.

Fans in my new city weren’t happy with the trade, to which my new GM replied, “What’s all the fuss about? All I did was trade hamburger for steak.” That didn’t turn out to be the case. I was traded away again a year later.

To put the one-sidedness of the trade in perspective, using one of those newfangled stats, I produced a total of 5 wins above replacement (WAR) for the remainder of my career. My counterpart: 27.5 WAR.

Fans of that Great Lakes region team still cite the trade as the primary reason for their futility in the years since. Not to be outdone by that team in New England, they even call it a curse.

I had a pretty good career, though. I knocked out over 2000 hits, and batted over .300 for my 15 years in the bigs. I was also name to 8 All-Star teams (7 of them prior to that ill-fated trade) and stuck around for 15 years on the BBWAA’s Hall of Fame ballot, peaking at just under 40% of the vote.

I even had some success in a very brief managerial career. As a rookie manager, I took over my hometown team early in the year and led them to the only World Series appearance in their history. We lost in seven games, but I took home Manager of the Year honors for my efforts.

The following season, I was fired after my team missed the playoffs, although we finished a respectable 12 games above .500.

I never managed again. Five years later, I died, just two months past my 57th birthday.

Who Am I?

****Remember, try this without research. Release your inner James Joyce and show us your stream of consciousness as you decipher the answer. Add to that the teachings of Myagi: patience. If you don’t get the answer right away, give your brain a chance to work if for no other reason than to stay in the discussion. You may not have THE answer, but you might prompt another reader by asking the right question.

By Chas

I was once a member of a bullpen trio that has gone on to combine for over 750 career saves. I’m sure this isn’t a record, but it’s still pretty impressive.

I was second in the pecking order when all three of us were together, but I now have the fewest career saves of all.

The three of us combined with three other hurlers to set a major league record for most pitchers involved in a no-hitter. In that game, I also became the first pitcher to ever notch four strikeouts in one inning in a no-hitter, and it was the first time our opponent had been no-hit in 45 years.

My other odd claim to fame is that, early in my career, I was the first National League pitcher to start more than 15 games and save more than 15 in the same season. Tim Wakefield accomplished the feat in the American League before me, but I believe we’re still the only two pitchers to ever do this.

I’m not saying I didn’t have what it takes to be a closer, but I turned out to be one of those guys who was better in a setup role than I was at pitching at the end of games. In my prime, I pitched 289 innings over a three-year period, notching 360 strikeouts and recording a 2.33 ERA, all while saving just 12 games.

Speaking of strikeouts, among pitchers with over 800 career innings, I’m second all-time in strikeouts per 9 IP. One of my aforementioned former bullpen mates is first, but since he’s retired, I’m tops among active pitchers.

That’s right, I’m still active. In fact, I recorded the second-most saves of any single season in my career just last year. Also, a recent transaction I was involved in allowed me to tie a major league record. I’m one of three pitchers who’ve pitched for 12 different major league teams in my career.

In eight games so far with my new team, I have a save, a hold and, unfortunately, a loss, so I’m definitely being used in high leverage situations. I don’t expect too many more save opportunities, though, as there are at least two (maybe three) guys ahead of me in that pecking order. Obviously, I wasn’t the centerpiece of the trade from my team’s standpoint. A starting pitcher was the main chip we received.

Who Am I?

****Remember, try this without research. Release your inner James Joyce and show us your stream of consciousness as you decipher the answer. Add to that the teachings of Myagi: patience. If you don’t get the answer right away, give your brain a chance to work if for no other reason than to stay in the discussion. You may not have THE answer, but you might prompt another reader by asking the right question.

By Chas

There aren’t that many major league players who were born in North Dakota. Only 15, in fact. I’m the all-time leader among players from my home state in runs, hits, doubles, triples, RBI and stolen bases. Only Travis Hafner has hit more home runs, and only he could potentially challenge some of my other marks.

I’m not North Dakota’s favorite son, however. That would be a guy who wasn’t even born in the Peace Garden State, but there’s a museum in his honor in Fargo nevertheless. His family moved there when we he was 10, and since he held a record that was revered for a long time, I’m not surprised they make a bigger deal of him than me.

But, I was a pretty big deal too. I earned varsity letters in three sports other than baseball in high school. One of those sports was track and field, where I won state titles in the 110 and 300-meter hurdles. We didn’t have a baseball team, so I played American Legion ball instead.

I went to college out of state and was a two-sport star there. In fact, I was a member of a national championship team in a sport other than baseball.

It was at the professional level where I earned my baseball glory. I was a member of the first (and only) World Series championship team for the franchise who drafted me (first overall), and who I played most of my career with. I batted .352 in that postseason (25-for-71 in 16 games), with 2 HR, 7 RBI and 14 runs scored, and even recorded the final putout in our Series clinching game.

My career didn’t quite live up to the potential of a first overall pick in the draft. I had my best season at age 26, leading the league in hits, finishing second in batting average and notching over 100 runs and 100 RBI. I never came close to matching those numbers again. However, I am the only player to win a particular award at two entirely different positions in my career.

Who Am I?

****Remember, try this without research. Release your inner James Joyce and show us your stream of consciousness as you decipher the answer. Add to that the teachings of Myagi: patience. If you don’t get the answer right away, give your brain a chance to work if for no other reason than to stay in the discussion. You may not have THE answer, but you might prompt another reader by asking the right question.

By Chas

I was one of the great ones. That’s right, I have a plaque in Cooperstown.

I’m one of two Hall of Famers who was born in Baltimore. The other guy is a way bigger deal. You know, an icon…one of those guys with multiple nicknames, a larger than life figure who played most of his career in a stadium they supposedly built for him.

I was a pretty special player too. So much so I was signed right out of high school and made my major league debut at the age of 18. The next year I was a full-time starter, and the following season I finished second in MVP voting.

As it turns out, I never won an MVP,but I finished in the top 10 in the voting nine times, including three top 3 finishes. Every time I finished in the top three, I was beaten out by Yankees. Even when I finished third, the top two vote-getters were those damn pinstripers.

I did earn my share of accolades, though. What do you think about 10 Gold Gloves and 15 All-Star selections? Not too bad, huh? Of course, the ultimate honor was a first-ballot Hall of Fame induction. There aren’t that many people who can say that.

I didn’t make very many postseason appearances, however. You can probably guess why. I played my entire career for one team, and we happened to be in the same league as the Yankees. I did finally make it, though, kind of late in my career. We had a phenomenal season, led by a starting pitcher who accomplished something that hadn’t been done in over 30 years, and hasn’t been matched since.

In the World Series, our ace was twice out-pitched by their ace, a guy who had a pretty historic season himself and who would enter the Hall of Fame the year after me. But, a different pitcher for our team came back on two days rest to out-duel said Hall of Famer in a game-seven matchup that earned him the Series MVP. It was his third complete game victory in the Series, a truly historic performance.

If not for that player, I had an MVP-worthy performance (11-for-29, 6 runs, 2 HR, 8 RBI) myself. But, as usual, I was outshined.

I came pretty close to being the first player to ever collect over 3000 hits and 400 home runs solely in the American League, but Carl Yastrzemski later earned that distinction.

I wasn’t outshined on the day I got into Cooperstown, though. Well, I was inducted alongside another legendary player, but it was his 11th year on the ballot. Like I said, I was voted in my first year on the ballot. It doesn’t get any better than that.

Who Am I?

****Remember, try this without research. Release your inner James Joyce and show us your stream of consciousness as you decipher the answer. Add to that the teachings of Myagi: patience. If you don’t get the answer right away, give your brain a chance to work if for no other reason than to stay in the discussion. You may not have THE answer, but you might prompt another reader by asking the right question.

By Chas

I was known for being a pretty fine defender at my position, but not quite exceptional enough to ever win a Gold Glove. Or, maybe it’s just that my timing was poor. Two of the guys who beat me out for the award combined for 13 of them in their careers. So, maybe I was just overshadowed.

Speaking of overshadowed, I was a 10-year starter for my primary team, but I was also the backup to two more prominent names during my 20+ year career.

Early in my playing days, I was the backup to a guy whose career ended pretty tragically, although I had already moved on before that happened.

Near the end of my career, I backed up a guy who went on to manage our team’s nearest geographic rival to their first ever World Series championship.

But, like I said, I had a pretty solid career myself. Sure, I was more known for my defense, but it was my offense that garnered me World Series MVP honors. It was one those series where it was tough to pick an MVP, though. My team won rather easily, and I batted close to .400, although I only drove in only two runs.

That was actually the second of three World Series I played in. We lost a heartbreaking 7-game series the first time around, letting a 3-games-to-1 lead slip away in the process. I played in every game of those two series, but in my third trip to the Fall Classic, I played in only two. We won that one rather easily as well, but if not for some first-game heroics that included perhaps the most famous pinch-hit of all-time, who knows how that one would’ve turned out.

I played for six different teams in my 24 years in the bigs, and had aspirations to be a major league manager post-career, but I haven’t quite reached that goal, although I’ve managed at AAA and spent time as a first and third base coach at the major league level. I suppose the dream is not completely dead yet, although last year I was passed over for the job leading the team I played most of my years with. That, in fact, might have been my last chance.

Who Am I?

****Remember, try this without research. Release your inner Jim Joyce and show us your stream of consciousness as you decipher the answer. Add to that the teachings of Myagi: patience. If you don’t get the answer right away, give your brain a chance to work if for no other reason than to stay in the discussion. You may not have THE answer, but you might prompt another reader by asking the right question.

You could probably say that I never fully lived up to my potential. I mean, I had a solid career, but maybe not as great as a lot of people thought.

I enjoyed my best years with the team who drafted me, including being a major contributor to the best year in that franchise’s history. We had the best record in baseball, but unfortunately, we have nothing to show for it, and it was through no fault of our own. Seriously, I’m not making excuses.

After that strange season, my team was forced to trade away many of their stars for financial reasons, and I was one of them. Leaving there was probably a blessing, but it would have been nice to bring that team its first taste of World Series glory. After all, given my first name, you might think I was a hometown boy, but I wasn’t. In fact, I was actually traded to my hometown team, and won a World Series with them the following year.

I ended up playing in three consecutive World Series, but the third one was for a different club than the first two. My teams only won that first one, though, but I also played on the losing side in one pretty heartbreaking seven-game series.

Like I said before, I had a pretty decent career: I led the league in stolen bases twice, went to a couple all-star games, won four Gold Gloves (at an up-the-middle position), hit over 200 homers, and accumulated more than 2000 hits, 1000 runs and close to 1000 RBI. But, a lot of folks probably thought I could have been better.

Who Am I?