Brush with greatness: Art Howe

One of the things that I like about baseball is that, for the most part, it is a game played by people of reasonable dimensions.

Sure, the vast majority of pitchers are very tall people and players have gotten bigger and bigger over the years. There are some seriously large dudes playing ball now. But when you compare them with a few other sports, baseball players are downright average-sized.

I've been in NFL locker rooms. What enormous specimens those guys are. They are nothing like anyone you see walking down the street. The same is true for the NBA. In a way, it's a reason why I don't watch much of those sports. It just seems too unrealistic: look at the freaks do the impossible! It's a circus sideshow, not a game.

NHL players seem a little more normal-sized, although they are in incredible shape. The same goes for baseball. But you do see more than your share of tall players in a major league locker room. Most tower over your average reporter.

I remember looking for Art Howe after a game that I covered. He was the Houston Astros manager at the time. Someone told me that he was just outside of the clubhouse, so I walked briskly (I was on deadline) out the door and nearly ran smack right into Howe's mid-section.

"What a giant man," I thought. Actually, Howe is listed at only 6-foot-2. That's semi-tall, but not exceptionally tall. But there was something about the guy -- maybe the uniform, or that he hadn't deteriorated into the out-of-shape dimensions of some managers -- that made him seem taller than almost anyone I had ever seen.

I'm not a tall guy. And I distinctly remember craning my neck to look at him to ask questions. I only remember doing that with one other interview subject -- Darryl Talley of the Buffalo Bills.

Howe was very pleasant. He's one of those guys who seems to have a permanent smile on his face (although I think his time with the Mets might have wiped that smile off). And I enjoyed my conversation with him.

But the reason I thought of all this was because of all the hatin' on itty bitty David Eckstein that is going on over at A Cardboard Problem. I just don't get it. How can you dislike a guy who, despite being shorter than your average ballplayer, has survived in the major leagues for so long?

I think that most people who say they don't like Eckstein actually don't like the hype surrounding Eckstein. Media members looking for an easy angle latch on to players like Eckstein because they are unusual. Then they start pulling out their stupid Chris Berman adjectives like "scrappy" and "gutty."

I'm right with people who hate the hype. God, I hate it. The media fawning all over Doug Flutie drove me absolutely insane. I would complain about the incessant hero-worship of Flutie constantly and people looked at me like I said, "KILL ALL THE PUPPIES!" But my problem was not with Flutie, it was with the nonstop blabbering about what a miracle man the short guy was.

And I think that's why people have a problem with Eckstein. It's the hype. Not the player.

Because I think it's the best thing in the world to have people like Eckstein playing major league ball. Players like him, and Brian Roberts, Marcus Giles, Joe Morgan, Mark Lemke and Dustin Pedroia show me that, yes, baseball can still be a sport for the regular guy. Even in this steroid-fueled era.

It's a comforting thought for a cute little short guy like me.