Tuesday Notes, 'Happy February' Edition

• Armando Galarraga is moving on. Can Jim Joyce? Contrite Joyce seeks new beginning after haunted winter (Scott Miller, CBSSports.com)
• First they tried to appropriate Jackie Robinson's legacy. Now the Mets are trying to bogart Frank McCourt's financial issues! Could Mets saga offer hint of Dodgers' future? (Steve Dilbeck, Dodgers Blog)
• Speaking of which, thanks to Mets Grrl for dropping by to comment on the Robinson thing. Her take:

  If you've only noticed it the last few years, you haven't been paying attention. And be careful when you say "The Mets" because it's "The Wilpons" who have the fixation with the Brooklyn Dodgers.

  Their party line is "Jackie Robinson played for the National League in New York, and we are the National League team in New York, so we honor his legacy" - which of course is bullshit. The Jackie Robinson Rotunda was in place for Citi Field Opening Day, long before the Mets Hall of Fame or the championship banners or a whole host of other things, the first thing you saw when you got to the top of the escalators after coming through the rotunda was the "Ebbetts Club" (now renamed the Champions Club).

  But this is all Fred Wilpon. All of it.

  I think they host Rachel Robinson for reasons of proximity - she is a woman of advancing years - but I don't think you can get on someone for commemorating the day with pomp and circumstance. You really can't. You can, however, excoriate Fred Wilpon on the rest of it.

  What, fans of other teams get annoyed with their owners?

• Ah, the Dodgertown Classic. A tradition stretching back all the way to 2010. Dodgers to host USC, UCLA in Classic (Tony Jackson, ESPNLosAngeles.com)

Grace

Maybe it was Sax's reflective piece on aging that kicked it off, but last week in the baseball world felt like a positive sign for us summer chickens. Why? Let's meet our cast of characters:

GARRET ANDERSON (age 38). There's not a lot of love for GA in these parts: He's routinely referred to as "GAARP" in our Game Threads, and some actually bemoaned that his game-winning hit last week might extend his Dodgers tenure. It's good thing he doesn't listen to us.

While Xavier Paul (age 25) gets his regular ABs in Albuquerque, it looks like we're stuck with GAARP. I'm not hopeful that GA has more walk-off hits left in him (although he had an RBI-double last night), but it was nice to see him show a sign of aging gracefully. Even if it took him 88 plate appearances to do it.

ARMANDO GALARRAGA (age 28). The perfecto by Dallas Braden (age 26) was heartwarming, but the imperfecto by Galarraga resonates more. Who can't relate to imperfection? Some context, from Joe Posnanski:

Nothing has ever come easily for Armando Galarraga. He signed with the Montreal Expos when he was 16 years old. He did not get out of rookie ball until he was 21. Texas got him as a throw-in when they traded Alfonso Soriano to Washington. He made one start for the Rangers and did not get out of the fifth inning. He was traded to Detroit for a minor leaguer named Michael Hernandez.

And he went ahead and retired the 28th batter like nothing had happened. Of course, he was rewarded in other ways: a new car, calls for an automatic All-Star berth (can you imagine the applause?).

But it was that smile that got you. How many of us would have just completely lost our shit in that situation? Galarraga's immediate reaction — the one he couldn't plan — tells us everything we need to know. His forgiveness afterward? Pure grace.

JIM JOYCE (age 54). Made a mistake. Admitted he made a mistake. Faced the press afterward. Made no excuses. "It was the biggest call of my career and I kicked the shit out of it," he said. Apologized for the mistake. Had to explain the mistake to his mom.

Furthermore, fulfilled his original commitment to work behind the plate in the next game — a day game following a night game, naturally. Wasn't afraid to show emotion in front of what could have been a hostile crowd. Who would you rather have calling the Dodgers game, Jim Joyce or "Cowboy" Joe West? His call may have been botched, but Joyce's stand-up attitude contained a grace of its own.

BRYCE HARPER (age 17). Who hasn't made an ass of themselves at 17? But when you're virtually guaranteed to be the first pick in the First-Year Player Draft (the Nationals picked Harper with their first pick yesterday) and due at least $10 million as a result, your actions — like drawing a line in the dirt with your bat to show up an umpire — become magnified.

Already dogged by accusations of character issues, Harper ended up getting suspended from the Junior College World Series, and his team exited the tournament shortly thereafter. He's on his way to becoming a lot richer, but he still needs to learn some grace.

JOHN WOODEN (died at lived to 99). Not directly part of the baseball world, but very much part of sports and Los Angeles. He was a genius who hated being called a wizard, but it was his devotion to his late wife that transcended grace.

A.J. ELLIS (age 29). The Dodgers' latest walk-off hero. And he had a squeeze bunt in last night's game. Expectations: 0, Ellis: 2.

So score one for the old(ish) guys. Sometimes, just sometimes, life experience is given its due. Or at least a red Corvette.

Jim Joyce: Conspiracy Theory

How can one of MLB's most respected umps make such a bone-headed call? Easy - IT WASN'T HIM!

In fact, Mr. Joyce's call ranks up there with another royal screwing by an officiator: The (semi) famous Hebner Twin referee match which resulted in the Hulkster losing his belt to the Other White Andre.

Referee Earl Hebner's twin brother Dave Hebner was the assigned official, but unbeknownst to Hogan, André the Giant's manager Ted DiBiase had bribed an unknown to get plastic surgery (in actuality, Dave's twin brother, Earl). Earl then counted André's pin against Hogan, even though Hogan's shoulders were clearly off the mat.

As André and DiBiase were celebrating (with André quickly "selling" his title to an overjoyed DiBiase), Dave (whom DiBiase had locked in a closet prior to the match) ran to the ring and confronted Earl.

Somewhere, the real Jim Joyce is locked in a utility closet while evil Jim Joyce continues his reign of terror.

I'll admit - my theory might sound Oliver Stone-level crazy. But it makes more sense than Joyce missing that call, and the 21st perfect game joining Robin Ventura's Grand Slam turned single as nothing more than an asterisk in the annuls of history.