Mission Statement

I've always felt as though there was a chasm in MLB reporting.

On one side you have the wonderful analyzation of the game from the likes of Peter Gammons, Tim Kurkjian and Keith Hernandez (okay, I'm a homer...but he's darn good). They break down the action, show you what you're missing. They provide insight on roster moves, gameplan against specific teams and players, and just generally bring things to another level of understanding.

On the other side, you have the presentation. Chris Berman. Joe Buck. Guys who don't really have anything of substance to say, just there to keep the general order. These guys are like morning show weather guys. They use big glossy graphics to illustrate simplistic points. Guys like Berman and Buck are good at what they do...it's just that they don't really do much.

The part of baseball that I most enjoy is the part that slips through the cracks. I like the guys who have been in and around baseball long enough to impart little nuggets of interest. The stories aren't always insightful or laugh out loud funny; they're just mildly interesting and largely inconsequential. I like the Major League miscellanea.

Every once in a while you'll find conventional articles via newspaper or internet media, but the purely poetic form can be found in the middle innings: after the announcing crew has gotten past their opening pleasantries, and finished off the dry "did you know's" prepared on their broadcast sheets, and before the dramatic close of the action when clutch performance trumps anecdotal color commentary. Mathematically, we're talking about innings four through six, but that's just what I'll argue to be the time of highest concentration.

The Middle Innings will aim to shed light on the story forgotten seconds after told or written, overlooked based on its lack of relevant content. The contention, however, is that its irrelevance is Americana at its finest, and bears a second look.