Blue Eyes Squinting in the Sun?

Are these eyes too blue to see in daylight?

Maybe John Fogerty had a point when he sang about a "brown-eyed handsome man" playing "Centerfield." Josh Hamilton of the Texas Rangers obviously thinks so. Ever since he told the world that his daytime hitting woes are all because he has blue eyes, the debate has raged.

Optometrists have weighed in on both sides. Many say there's something to Hamilton's complaint, while others says people with light eyes naturally compensate to the difference.  I admit I am skeptical that having blue eyes is a huge obstacle for hitters.

A number bloggers have looked at the stats of Hamilton and other blue-eyed players. One tracked Hamilton's year-by-year splits and Jason Bay's, another player with blue eyes. Bay has said he agrees that hitting during the day was tougher because of his blue eyes. (Although how any blue-eyed player knows what it's like for a brown-eyed player is a mystery.) Bay's day night-splits are pretty close.

I'm not surprised. It seems to me that Hamilton's problems are in his head, and I don't mean his eyes. This week he tried some fancy, custom sunglasses, but gave up on them after one hitless day. Last year, Hamilton hit 170 points higher during the day than he has this year. That says to me it has become a confidence issue.

Or maybe he just needs to squint a little more.

The Braves, Brewers and Memory

With all of the sensational news lately -- Roger McDowell's tirade, fans cheering bin Laden's death -- I started thinking of happier topics. At the top of the list are my earliest memories of heading to the ballpark.

I was fortunate enough to grow up in Milwaukee where big league baseball was part of the fabric of the city. The Braves are a fuzzy memory for me. I was only 6 when the Braves headed South, but I can remember going to a game. The only images in my mind's eye are walking in the concourse at County Stadium. It's a pleasant memory, if scant on details.

The next Braves memory I have is of my cousins, who lived in Atlanta, telling me my team was headed their way. I can still feel the shock of hearing that. Maybe it was city pride, but I was saddened when my Dad confirmed the bad news.