Something I won't miss about Hall of Fame voting season

One of the standard arguments pulled out by old-school voter types when they're justifying their Hall of Fame votes is "I saw this guy play and you didn't, and I know what a Hall of Famer looks like." This is often phrased as "I saw this guy play while you were being pantsed in gym class by the cool kids, so suck it, nerds", but hey, polite discourse and professionalism is what these guys are all about, right?
Anyway, as long as we're talking Hall of Fame, as opposed to Hall of Strictly Analytical Selection - to which, incidentally, I am strenuously opposed - there's a place for "You had to be there" in the discussion. Maybe not an exclusive place. Maybe not a decisive place, but a place. Because, hey, there's that whole magical narrative thing going on, and there's something to be said for indelible moments and rising to the occasion, and so on and so forth - if it's stated in a way that isn't sneeringly condescending.
But there are two problems, above and beyond the obvious, with this approach. One is that while you may have seen a guy, a lot of the rest of us saw him too, and we may not agree on what we saw. You see Jack Morris and see a bulldog, an ace, a winner. I saw Jack Morris as a leaner Rick Reuschel, a guy who was always good but rarely great, and who got lit up far more often than an ace should.
The other, of course, is that different players look like Hall of Famers to different observers. To the young me, who watched every Phillies game he could, Greg Luzinski was way more "feared" than Jim Rice ever could be. Garry Maddox was the greatest centerfielder who ever lived - two thirds of the Earth was covered by water, and the rest by Gary Maddox. Ask me who I think is a Hall of Famer based on long-ago observations, and you'll get responses that would make Jay Jaffe's hair curl.
Which is why, ultimately, the "I saw him and you didn't" defense is hooey. You saw him, sure. Maybe I did, too. Maybe I saw different things than you did. But don't you dare tell me that only your hazy memories of youthful heroes are a noble and unbiased standard, to which all the giants of a younger day can be held.

What We Have Learned from Bowl Season

1-The BCS is poorly named. For one thing, it's not a series. Multiple bowls get played, yes, but the ones besides the championship game matter precisely as much as the Northern Illinois Beats The Crap Out Of Some Unsuspecting Sun Belt Conference School Bowl, played in Waukegan to fill three hours of ESPN programming on a slow post-New Years' Thursday. The championship game is 1 vs 2, and everything else is about the lovely gift bags for the players. Stanford vs. OSU was a great game, but by next season, nobody's going to remember where those two ranked in the final polls.

2-Taking anything away from bowl season as an indicator of conference strength is insanity. Long before the bowl games start, things happen. Coaches leave, voluntarily or otherwise. Dozens of players get suspended, or rendered hors de classroom for the bowl game. Other players decide that they're going pro, and sublimate the goal of winning the We-Used-To-Call-It-The-Poulan-Weedeater-Independence-Bowl-But-Now-It's-Something-Else Bowl. Teams that thought they should have gone to bigger bowls check out. Teams that know they were supposed to do better but ended up getting into a bowl by dint of a lucky pummeling of Northwest Rhode Island Welding Institute take a look around, see their opponent is from the MAC, and check out. In short, the teams that actually step out onto the field more often than not bear little to no resemblance to the teams that played the season. Taking anything of significance out of the fact that Louisville wasn't thrilled to be playing NC State in Charlotte or whatever, and trying to extrapolate it to mean anything, is just a bad idea.

3-Anyone who says the BCS is broken is correct. Any system that proclaims a team that couldn't even win its own division of its own conference "National Champion" is, for lack of a better word, screwy.

4-Anyone who then turns around and blames the computers doesn't actually understand the BCS ranking system, which is mainly derived from the human polls. Blaming "the computers" is a lot like blaming pixies for souring your milk; the explanation is right there for anyone who doesn't want to just mouth off instead of think.

5-The fun of bowl season used to be seeing two good teams that ordinarily would never play each other going at it. Sadly, in the age of 70 bowl slots, "good teams" can be a stretch, and conference affiliations with bowls means that similar matches recur all the time. Now, the fun of bowl season is trying to predict which BCS conference team is going to wind up with a losing record after being taken out behind the woodshed by a highly motivated C-USA squad who have no idea how they're supposed to behave when they're on television and it's not a school night.

6-If you're a sports-based television network and the product you're trying to sell to your viewers is a minor bowl game, it's probably not a good idea to kvetch on-air about how nobody bothered to show up to watch this one.

7-The notion that making a BCS Bowl implies some sort of level of quality is officially laughable in the wake of the VT-Michigan snoozer. Nobody even tried to pretend that these at-large selections were picked for any reason other than butts in seats. And if butts in seats is the only criterion for inviting a couple of teams - neither of which looked like they wanted to be there - to a BCS bowl, then holding up a BCS bowl as any kind of achievement is suspect and hollow.

8-Don't make Boise State mad. You won't like Boise State when they're mad.

New Postings Have Moved...

...to http://www.tumblr.com/tumblelog/sportsthodoxy

Twenty Things I’m Hoping To See This Baseball Season:

1. Someone on the MLB Network, when discussing an aging, no-field, no-run swing-from-the-heels hitter who’s got fading doubles power and slider bat speed, to say “He’s not a professional hitter, because he can’t hit.”
2. One last moment in the sun for Matt Stairs, the Wonder Hamster
3. Craig Calcaterra finally snapping and going totally Sneakers on Jon Heyman in an attempt to prove that Scott Boras is feeding him faulty intel directly. Presumably, this ends up with Derek Zumsteg demanding a Winnebago, Marc Normandin asking for the phone number of the attractive MLB.com sysadmin who helps bust them, and Sean Casey shouting “We’re MLB Network! We don’t DO that sort of thing!”

4. Prince Fielder and Ryan Howard doing a double steal during the All-Star Game.

5. Six or seven pitchers from Jim Rice’s heyday going public with a statement to the effect of “That dude? We never actually feared him. It was Dewey Evans who scared the piss out of us.”

6. Charlie Haeger winning double-digits worth of games.

7. Alex Gordon beating the snot out of the ball, just to shut everyone up already.

8. ESPN promoting a game that doesn’t have the Yankees, Red Sox, or some combination thereof in it.

9. Tim McCarver criticizing Derek Jeter. Just once.

10. Jeffrey Samson and David Loria to fall through some sort of interdimensional wormhole that lands them in the Miami where Burn Notice is real, just in time for them to accidentally rear-end cranky superspy Michael Westen.

11. Jamie and Frank McCourt to realize they’re both looking like complete asses. As they sit down to discuss how best to resolve their divorce quickly and with dignity, they reminisce over the wonderful time they had in Brussels on their honeymoon, fall madly in love all over again, and have enthusiastic makeup sex on Bert Fields’ desk. Then, united in purpose, they go get a real starting pitcher for the Dodgers, knocking Vincente Padilla – not Charlie Haeger – out of the rotation.

12. A Charlie Zink sighting.

13. Someone in the Kansas City front office to say “You know, it’s kind of weird that a dermatologist knows more about running our baseball team than our GM does.” Ideally, the next step is to hire said dermatologist.

14. Vernon Wells, BJ Upton, Nick Johnson, Josh Hamilton, Milton Bradley, and Manny Ramirez to all play like we’ve seen them play at their best.

15. Manny Ramirez to admit the whole “Manny being Manny” thing has gotten old, and that reporters really should come up with a new shtick. Conversely, I’d also go for Manny thinking he’s the reincarnation of the Atlantean priest Klarkash-Ton, and taking batting practice in ceremonial robes from the cat-haunted city of Ulthar.

16. Carlos Marmol, Joba Chamberlain, Phil Hughes, and CJ Wilson pitching lights out, as a response to their managers no longer jerking them around.

17. Someone doing a Real Genius on Dusty Baker to convince him that God wants him to start using pitch counts. Then they can use a giant laser to fill the Reds’ dugout with popcorn.

18. The ghost of the billygoat to manifest at third base at Wrigley during a twi-night doubleheader with the Cardinals in order to call out Jay Mariotti for one too many phoned-in bullcrap columns. Unfortunately, nobody’s seen Mariotti actually at Wrigley since June of ’96, so the goat dissolves into a blob of ectoplasm that later causes Aramis Ramirez to slip and fall. Ramirez blows out a hammy in the incident, his replacements don’t hit a lick, and the Cubs miss the playoffs by one game.

19. A home run ball hit by a White Sox player knocking unconscious the next reporter to claim that Ozzie’s guys play “small ball” in a home run park so egregious, Joey Gathright can swing from the heels there. I of course wish no permanent harm to come to said reporter, but if there was a residual inability to say the words “productive out”, “pitching to the score”, or “gritty gamer”, I wouldn’t be too upset.

20. Jayson Werth yelling “Captain Caaaaave-mannnn!” every time he hits a home run. Hey, it could happen.

We Love You, Joe/LeBron/Anybody

One of the things fans in the rest of the country hate about New York fans is their open, entitled speculation about when the biggest stars on other teams are going to come play in New York because New York "deserves" them. (The irony of pairing this with bitching about competitive imbalance has thus far escaped most of Pinstripe Nation.) Case in point: Ian O'Connor's navel-gazing masterpiece on ESPN New York, as self-absorbed a piece of tripe as anything the Curly Haired Boyfriend horked out in the Boston Globe. In it, O'Connor pats Cleveland on the head and then explains why LeBron has to come to New York because, well, he has to come to New York and lots of New Yorkers say so.

I can only assume that O'Connor had a Joe Mauer version of this piece ready to go, and then hastily rewrote it when Super Joe signed with the city that apparently didn't deserve him quite as much.

I Don't Think Carolina Gets All The Calls...

...but tonight's NIT finals really should have been A10 vs. A10.

And the fact that the Heels couldn't close the deal on Dayton - Dayton! - should really scare all those suits at CBS who foresee a tournament that doesn't go chalk every year.

Why People Hate Duke

There was some discussion on the local sports talk radio station today about why Duke has been cast as the "villain" in this year's Final Four. The Christian Laettner foot-stomp incident was brought up and laughed off, and various and sundry other thoughts, but really, I think they missed the point.

Badly.

You see, by all rights I should be a Duke fan. Until Boston College joined the ACC (and for all of you locals bitching about how BC doesn't belong in the conference, it's actually closer to, you know, the Atlantic Coast than Duke. Or NC State. Or Wake Forest. Or Georgia Tech. Or Virginia. Or...you get the idea.) it was the most "northern" school in the conference, a plucky little bastion of higher learning with a tiny enrollment who somehow managed to beat the big boys at their own game. And that's exactly the sort of thing that should make Duke endearing.

Only they're not. I find I loathe Duke in a way I loathe few other schools, but it took until today to figure out why.

It's not that Duke's the "villains" of the piece. The Blue Devils aren't bullies, not in the way Tark the Shark's UNLV teams were. They're not openly flouting rules or being brutes or aggressively trying to intimidate anyone, Coach K's dark suits be damned.

No, the thing is precisely that they're not bullies. They're the spoiled rich kids. They're Draco Malfoy, the weasels who get everyone else in trouble and then turn into angels the second the grownups turn around. Watch a Duke player, any Duke player, when they get a foul called on them. It's always the same - the histrionics, the hands to the side of the head, the mouth wide open in Macaulay-Culkin-ese fake shock, the "Aww, you're kidding me!" that blind lipreaders beyond the orbit of Mimas could read. When the ref's not looking, they elbow and hook and shove with the worst of 'em. When the ref is looking, they flop and overact and do their best to get the other guy - the Harry Potters of the hardwood, as it were - in trouble. Seriously. I've seen video games with ragdoll physics less impressive than what J.J. Reddick used to do when someone got within five feet of him.

That's why Duke is so hateable. Because all of us, in school, knew a Duke. We all knew a kid who tormented and teased and bullied when the teacher wasn't looking, and who used their parents or their older brother or their willingness to clean erasers to magically avoid the trouble the rest of us caught double. We'll probably never see those kids again. But we will see their likenesses, their avatars, their nationally televised equivalents. We will see them in blue and white, and we will boo them heartily.

It won't change a thing. It certainly won't retroactively balance the scales of schoolyard injustice. But man, it'll feel good.

Dear Fans Who Felt Your Team Should Stay Home Rather Than Play In A Secondary Postseason Tournament:

Shut the hell up.

If you are really fans, you want the following:
For your team to play more games so you can watch more games.
For your team to play more games so you can watch players you presumably root for a little longer before they move on.
For your team to play more games so the school can make more money and provide better facilities, etc. for the team, which will then theoretically do better next year.
For your team to play more games so young players can get more time and get that much of a leg up on next year.
Did I mention "for your team to play more games so they can hopefully win more and you can cheer them on?" You know, that whole fan thing?

There are lots of good reasons for a team to participate in any post-season play offered to it. Any one of them outweighs idiot fan pride at a season that wasn't quite up to their replica jersey- wearing standards.

I say let the kids play. And everyone else can deal.

March Madness: Weekend 1

Possibly the most amusing thing I heard this weekend was some guy swearing that President Obama had gotten on the horn and used his power to force the refs to make calls against Robert Morris, in order to protect the sanctity of the Presidential Bracket.

Seriously. You can't make this stuff up.

Unfortunately, you don't need to make up some of the other blithering that goes on around this time of year. Now that the dust has settled on all the whining about seeding - and let's face it, if they got it perfectly right, the angry Joe Lunardis of the world would be out of luck and out of work because their primary role is to complain about these bits of floating nonsense - it's time for all-new inanity to take over. The major throughline today seemed to be focused not on Kentucky's new status as the overall favorite or the remarkable runs by teams like Cornell and UNI, but rather that "having so many low seeds advance was bad for the tournament". Because, you know, nobody was going to watch a Sweet 16 game that didn't have the big names in it. Xavier's made the second weekend for something like thirty-seven years in a row? Doesn't matter. Cornell's a ridiculously good story - revenge of the nerds, "after this, nothing but babies and memories", the first Ivy to go this far since the days of Bird and Magic - but it doesn't matter. St. Mary's avenging last year's snub and Purdue overcoming the loss of Robbie Hummel (yes, I picked Siena in round 1) and Washington's sneaky-good run and...naah, not important. What matters is that the big names - UConn, UNC, Kansas, etc. aren't there.

Now, there are two lessons to be taken from this. One, it would have been relatively easy for those missing big names to be there. All they had to do was do what they were supposed to: win games. Sorry, the tournament is supposed to be about putting the best teams together, not the best ratings. That's what the BCS is for, after all.

The other lesson is that the mainstream sports media guys bitching and moaning about how the games aren't interesting now are doing themselves and their readers/listeners/viewers a disservice. UNI's played some pretty entertaining games. So has Purdue. So have the bulk of the surviving teams, marquee or otherwise. The smart play would be to seize the opportunity, talk up these new teams, and hopefully build nationwide interest in more teams going forward. The idiotic play is to bitch about how the tournament's no good without Carolina in it, discourage people from watching (because a game with Xavier in it can't possibly be interesting), and moan about the ratings. None of which, of course, has anything to do with the actual games, but all of which reinforces college basketball's insane football-driven caste system.

If I were running a station and one of my guys moaned about this stuff, I'd rip him a new one. Getting people interested in this stuff is better for fandom and better for business. Whining is the easy way out. I'd rather have them tell me what's exciting about what's coming up, instead of complaining that the easy story lines are gone.

Random Spring Training Thought...

For all of the geshrying over the Phillies' trade of Cliff Lee for a 1967 Chrysler Aumont* and some spare parts, there's a vague hint of a whiff of suspicion that it might not have been the stupidest idea ever. Throwing at a guy's head in a spring training game - no, correction, at a backup catcher's head - is monumentally knuckleheaded. We're talking "Tommy Greene might have thought it was a good idea" dumb. Getting suspended five games to start the season when you're supposed to be one of the two lead sled dogs for your team, the prize off-season acquisition that's going to get the team off to a fast start, is just plain stupid. Sure, suspending starting pitchers is a lot like criminal sentencing for white-collar criminals - a lot less harsh than it seems - but even so, it's a hell of an idiotic precedent to be setting.
And so the sneaking suspicion remains. If he's doing something this Jersey Shore-ish to start the season, what happens next?
Maybe, just maybe, Cliff Lee was too big of a knucklehead for Philadelphia. And that, my friends, is a scary thought.

Give the NCAA Committee Credit

Their seedings are ludicrous, but the fact that the last couple of guys in included Utah State and UTEP over the easy choices of power conference pretenders Mississippi State and Virginia Tech. Mind you, both those teams are set up to get hammered in the first round, but 5-12 upsets are the annoying relatives of March Madness: they keep on popping up, year after year.

Comparative Analysis

The baseball equivalent of the Brady Quinn trade - first round flop traded off by new regime in exchange for serviceable spare part - is probably "Bill Pulsipher for Mike Kinkade".

And if you remember that one, you can see why I'm so utterly unimpressed with the hysteria over this one.

Random NFL Trade Thought

St. Louis needs a quarterback.
In an uncapped year, prior to a CBA renegotiation which will almost certainly produce a rookie slotting system for contracts, no GM wants to be on the hook for doling out the last of the ginormous rookie deals. Hence, teams in the top 10 or so in the draft will be scrambling to trade down. especially since there's really no elite offensive talent in this year's draft.
Even in a good year, GMs hate giving the really big money to defensive players. Cf Jimmy Kennedy, among others.
The undisputed best player in this year's draft is a defensive lineman, Ndamukong Suh.
Which means a GM with high draft pick - like, say the Rams' GM, is going to be doubly unwilling to pay top dollar for Mr. Suh as the top draft pick.
The Eagles have a surfeit of quarterbacks and cash to burn. And they have a desperate need on the defensive line.
It may not happen. But someone's probably going to at least sniff around it.

UR DOING IT RONG

Which is another way of saying I was watching some ESPN over lunch at a local pizza joint the other day and spotted their spring training coverage of the Dodgers. Included in the "key additions"? Angel Berroa.

That...pretty much says it all.

Thank you, ESPN

Without your relentless coverage of Saturday's minor league NASCAR race, I never would have known that Danica Patrick A)drives cars and B)has breasts.

48 hours after the biggest press conference in history...

...and I still don't care who Tiger Woods slept with.

Dear commercial media: This is not important news. Please stop treating it like important news. Please stop saying horrifically inappropriate things like insinuating Jesper Parnevik had "tried Elin out" before introducing her to Tiger. Please stop saying stupid things like "Tiger owes you an apology." He doesn't. He owes his wife an apology, and his kids when they're old enough to figure out what the hell happened, and maybe Jesper Parnevik. Not you. And please remember at some point that if you're even going to pretend golf is a sport, you should cover what's going on out on the links every so often. Just in case, you know, actual sports happens.

Thank you.

Sixers-Bucks Trade

After all the rumors, it's...Jodie Meeks and Francis Elson for Primoz Brezec, Royal Ivey, and a second round draft pick.

And I can honestly say - as someone who knows that Mo Cheeks was a second-round pick out of West Texas State and loved chocolate chip cookies - that I had to double-check to see which team these guys originally played for, and who was getting whom.

This is what passes for trade deadline excitement in Sixerland.

Mixed Messages

The NBA welcomed a record 108,000 fans to the All-Star Game this past weekend!
The NBA claims $400M in operating losses this year!

There could possibly have been a better time to announce the latter. Doing so at an event that highlights the league's resurgent popularity and ability to sell tickets gives it the whiff of mathematical monkeyshines. At this point, I'm skeptical of any pro sports league's claims that its owners - who enjoy ridiculous tax breaks, see their assets steadily rise in value, play accounting games that make Madoff's routine look like Candyland, and play in publicly-built castles with sweetheart leases - are losing money. but this one definitely comes with a side helping of "you're kidding me, right?"

Of course, the real thing they're going for here is to stir up anti-player sentiment among the fanbase. How can those players ask for so much money? How can they demand such a high percentage of gross revenues for playing a game? It's a time-tested PR strategy, and it works.

Left unsaid, of course, is that if the players aren't getting that money, the plutocrat owners are. Ticket prices won't drop. Concession prices won't drop. Parking prices won't drop. But hey, at least those greedy players won't be getting the cash!

Right? Right.

The Great American Race(TM)

"Hi! I'm a pothole! And I hate NASCAR!"

The irony of the biggest, baddest race on the NASCAR calendar being held up - twice - because of a pothole - is just too good. For all the talk of "the car of tomorrow" and how these "stock" car drivers are the best and most competitive on the planet, they still got derailed on national television by something a soccer mom in a station wagon - excuse me, "crossover vehicle" - would plow right through.

Yeah, I know. Hit a pothole at 190 and it's ugly. That being said, you'd think NASCAR would do a better job with the track at their showcase event. And really, apart from Alaskan Ice Truckers, who else can claim a two hour delay at work because of a pothole and get away with it.

Tournament of Everyone Ambulatory in Shouting Distance

The big topic in college basketball today - now that we don't have to worry about "Will Dick Vitale burst a blood vessel courtside and spray Duke blue from his femoral artery all over the Dean Dome?" for another year - is whether the NCAA tournament should expand to 96 teams.

The people this notion benefits are obvious. One, the coaches. 50% more of them get to say they led a team to the tourney. Two, the big conferences. They'll have more teams getting in, which means more tourney revenue to split. Three, umm, well, you've got me there. Really, this is about making sure that the #s 7 and 8 teams from BCS conferences make it in so that coaches can plaster "Made the tournament" on their resume. None of the teams potentially picked up by this would ever be a threat to win the Big Dance. Hell, most wouldn't make it out of the first round. All that would be achieved would be the final death of the venerable NIT, and the reduction of font sizes in order to squeeze 96 team brackets onto single pages for office pools.

Oh, and "student-athletes" missing more class for the additional games, the very same thing supposedly holding up a football playoff. But hey, consistency is the hobgoblin of the minds of people who don't rake in billion dollar television deals, right?

DuClina

There are three kinds of basketball fans in the Triangle: Duke fans, Carolina fans, and State fans, i.e. "fans who hope that the Dean Dome and/or Cameron will suffer a fortuitous meteor strike when Duke and Carolina get together". This is due in part to the relentless overexposure the rivalry gets, and in part to the fact that 98% of the carpetbaggers who move down here immediately become Duke fans because, hey, nobody in the Northeast can play college football, either.

(The closest thing I have to a rooting allegiance in college basketball is for the Big Five; I'm happy to see Temple, Penn, Nova, St. Joes or LaSalle take down anyone.)

Duke-Carolina really is the Yankees-Red Sox of college hoops: a stirring rivalry that has been relentlessly hyped and sold as the only rivalry in the sport worth paying attention to. What that means is that other, equally interesting teams don't get as much play, weakening the sport as a whole. It also means that when one of the two titans in blue is having a down year - like this year - all the Chicken Littles immediately start going off on how "the rivalry has lost its luster" - and the sport as a whole is diminished as a result.

Duke-Carolina is great. So's 'Nova-Georgetown. And Purdue-Indiana. And Louisville-Kentucky. And any number of other rivalries. Until Dickie V admits that he's actually Connor McLeod's great-grandpappy - which is not out of the realm of possibility - it should be clear: there can be more than one.

Super Bowl Afterthoughts

In no particular order...

• Was it just me, or was it mildly creepy that the NFL was using the same music for its ads that "Where the Wild Things Are" used for its trailer?
• The game turned, not on the pick, but on the Colts' inability to pick up multiple first downs at the end of the first half. The Saints' gamble was clear: go for it on 4th. If you score, you're tied. If you don't, bet your defense can hold and you'll get a decent chance at another crack at a three. The safe play would have been the bad one - kick the field goal and give Manning a couple of minutes left to march down the field and drive a dagger in. Of course, the gamble would have failed if Manning and company had been able to get more than 9 yards. The Saints took the punt in good field position, drove far enough to get a field goal, and had both a manageable game and the momentum going into the locker room. For all that Payton Manning made his patented "kickers are icky" face when Matt Stover's 51 yarder knuckled left at the last minute, he's not blameless in the loss.
• Why does anybody care about the halftime show? At this point, the acts they get are trying to cram so many song snippets in - you can't play the Super Bowl unless you had albums originally come out on 8-track at this point, which means a back catalog of hits you MUST get to - that it's basically like listening to a series of ringtones. Also, why was Roger Daltrey hunched up like that throughout the performance. He looked like he was either going to fall down or sprout wings.
• Perfect symmetry -Reggie Wayne and the Pride of Hofstra, Marques Colston, both had through-the-hands-and-off-the-facemask drops.
• I believe this is the first Super Bowl where tackling was optional. Joseph Addai hasn't seen holes like that since he dreamed he was trapped in a giant Swiss cheese, but the Saints' devotion to the matador tackle didn't help much.If the Colts had kept going to him - like they did on their last scoring drive - things might have turned out different.
• Gotta love the "Aww, man!" Payton Manning expression. You've just gotta. One got the sense that had Indy won, it would somehow have been solely Manning's work - never mind that monster offensive line that kept him off his butt all season long. But since they lost...
• That being said, any of the talking heads yammering about how Manning needed to win a second Super Bowl to "cement his legacy" needs to put a sock in it - and then fill the sock with concrete. Winning a Super Bowl, or not, does not make one a great quarterback. Jeff Hostetler won a Super Bowl. Brad Johnson. Trent @#$ing Dilfer. Even if these guys had somehow managed to win ten, they wouldn't have been great quarterbacks. Oh, and Brett Favre? The Greatest Quarterback Evar? One.
• Imagine how much damage Drew Brees could have done if the Saints' O-line had given him enough time to set his feet before he threw?
  
• Once the Colts started rolling Manning out, it was all over. Mannings don't run. They just don't.
• That being said, I think Dallas Clark is still open over the middle.
  

Big Fat Hairy Game Prediction

New Orleans lives by getting turnovers. Indianapolis doesn't turn the ball over.

Colts win.

Random Thoughts On Random Free Agents

• Orlando Hudson, 2B, Twins - People point out that Hudson was benched for Ronnie Belliard last year. People forget that this was in large part due to Joe Torre's predilection for playing guys in worse shape than he is.
• Adam Kennedy, 2B, Nationals - Because nothing is more important to a franchise that needs to develop its young players than keeping Christian Guzman on the field as much as possible.
• Johnny Damon, OF, Nobody In Particular - Because it wasn't that his salary demands got big. It's that the Yankees got small. (Seriously - when Buster Olney, the High Priest of the Yankees at ESPN, lays you out for dealing with them poorly, you've made a serious tactical error somewhere along the line.)
• Jason Bay, OF, Mets - Because if you can't play for the Yankees, at least you can play near the Yankees.
• Scott Hairston, Jon Garland, and a cast of thousands, Padres - Don't be too rough on those uniforms, boys. They're going to need them for someone else around July 30th or so.
• Placido Polanco, 3B, Phillies - Well, somebody has to stand out there. There is, however, no truth to the rumor that Phillies GM Ruben Amaro Jr. dropped his iPod before opening contract negotiations began and got stuck on an endless loop of "Three (Is A Magic Number)" At this point, the only Phillies he hasn't locked up for three more years are Steve Jeltz, Bake McBride, and the ghost of Del Ennis.
• Adam LaRoche, 1B, Diamondbacks -No truth to the rumor that he keeps a bar chart on his wall tracking how much Damon's lost by overplaying his hand this offseason vs. how much he lost by turning down San Francisco.
• Bengie Molina, C/land mass, Giants - Because when Adam LaRoche turns you down, really, what's the point.
  

And the Super Silliness, It Continues

Overheard tonight on the drive home, a commercial for the Super Bowl (I'm not calling it The Big Game and you can't make me) huffing excitedly about how on Sunday, Drew Brees and the Saints will match wits with Peyton Manning and the Colts.

Now, call me crazy, but does anyone, and I mean anyone, sit down to watch the Super Bowl and say, "Boy, I can't wait for those two teams of freakishly large physical specimens in lightweight body armor to match wits!" People watch for the parties. People watch for the cheerleaders. People watch for the commercials. Some folks, especially those who have money riding on it (and let's not kid ourselves - 80% of the ghoulish interest in Dwight Freeney's ruptured ankle tendon this week is driven by betting) watch it because they want to watch the game. But very, very few people think, "Can't wait for the Super Bowl. They're gonna match wits*!"

*Yeah, yeah, I know. Quarterbacks are field generals, it's all very complicated with lots of planning, blah blah blah. That still doesn't mean anyone watches it for the wit-matching. Besides, if Terry Bradshaw could figure it out, how witty do you really have to be?

In the Ever-Raging War...

...between "mainstream journalists" (most of whom blog now, or think they're blogging) and bloggers (who may or may not be wearing pants as they perform their professional duties), there really is a clear differentiation between the two. Sure, you can argue about old school media versus new media and how the ESPN guys (except for Olney and KLaw) are giving the goods away on Twitter and so forth, but really, there's one insurmountable difference that clearly draws the line.

Mainstream media never, ever, gets schooled in the comments section by the subject of a blog post's Mom.

Define "Interested"

According to a tweet from Dan Hayes, Brian Giles' agent is claiming that 8-10 teams are interested in him.

8-10 teams. Roughly 30% of the teams out there. Somehow, I find it difficult to believe that there are that many teams interested in an aging, injury-prone corner outfield who hasn't displayed any power in years. Sure, there could be somebody who wants a bel0w-average fielder who slugged .271 last year - by comparison, that's lower than Willy Taveras' OBP number - as a "veteran influence", but with better options out there, why look at this guy?

To be fair, at this point it's not an offseason to me until Scott Boras claims that a "mystery team" is in on one of his clients for whom the number of bidders ranges between zero and one. After yesterday's attempt to link Johnny Damon to the Tigers (note to Johnny: you can't have wanted to be a Tiger all along and still be upset over not getting an offer you like from the Yankees. The timing, it doesn't quite work), it's becoming increasingly clear that by "mystery team" Boras means the Fort Worth Cats, but they're at least real. On the other hand, claiming 8 to 10 are in on a guy whose knees got more solid hits than his bat last year is just showing off. It's the old "I have a girlfriend. In Canada. Who's a supermodel" shtick, and just as believable. if there are 10 teams out there kicking the tires on Giles, I'm guessing at least one's made up of Skaven and halflings, three are actually bowling teams in the local seniors' league, and one is Team Venture. And no, Teams Edward and Jacob don't count.

(Also, considering how much of last year Giles was on the shelf with a knee contusion, whoever's kicking the tires had best do it very gently.)

Ultimately, I'm sure someone will give Giles an NRI. He was productive, if not powerful, in 2008, and if he's willing to take "aging outfielder money", there's probably a place out there for him*. That being said, I'm having a hard time coming up with five teams he'd be a reasonable fit for, let alone ten, and never mind that there are still offensive options like Johnny Damon and the Mighty Branyan out there. And really, a non-story like this is good news. It means the off-season's winding down, the agents who didn't hook their guys up are getting desperate, and pitchers and catchers will be reporting soon.

*San Francisco? I mean, he's an aging veteran who can't hit. It's a natural fit.

Why the Pro Bowl Sucks

Of all the major sports all star games, the Pro Bowl has always been, by far, the worst. This has been for several reasons, not the least of which is that it fails on the basic promise of an All-Star Game.

Simply put, the whole point of an ASG is to see the best play with and against the best. That's what sells the baseball ASG - the thought of Mariano Rivera trying to nail down a win against a Murderer's Row of, say, Hanley Ramirez, Albert Pujols and Chase Utley. It's Carl Hubbell and his screwball getting swings and misses from five Hall of Famers in a row. And for all that managers these days are careful about getting lots of players in and not scragging pitchers' arms, one gets the genuine sense that the baseball being played in the ASG is fundamentally identical to the baseball played throughout the season and the playoffs.

The same goes for the NBA All-Star Game; sure, nobody plays defense, but they're playing hard. It's Dream Team vs. Dream Team out there, the Garnett-to-LeBron-to-dunking-over-Tim-Duncan moment that's literally impossible in the "real" world for all those pesky salary cap reasons. We can't see this anywhere else. It offers us a cross between fantasy sports and gladiatorial combat in way that's compelling.

The Pro Bowl, on the other hand, throws this out the window by allowing everyone and their uncle to cop out of the game with the exuse that their kitten has a hangnail. It's played at a leisurely pace with a dumbed-down playbook and guys going half speed, because nobody wants to get hurt, and it's generally played after the Super Bowl, when we've all got sort of a football hangover. If the Super Bowl is the biggest feast of the football year (the Buffalo Bills' occasional participation notwithstanding), then the Pro Bowl has traditionally been that one bit of food you work out from where it's stuck between your teeth about two hours later.

And this year, they managed to make it worse. While the idea of raising the game's profile by sticking it before the Super Bowl was at least theoretically a good one, in practice it borks the game even worse. To start with, the best players can't play. When your fantasy of the best against the best fails to feature the best players on the best teams, well, it's like one of those Peter Gabriel "Best Of" collections that didn't have "Sledgehammer" but did have room for "Moribund the Burgomeister".

Second, the timing switch doesn't help. Nobody's going to be interested in watching half-speed competition in the two weeks between the ceremonial Brett Favre Throwing Of the Interception and what's supposed to be the most hotly contested game of the year. It's overshadowed by the game it's supposed to be warming us up for - as well it should be. As Bill Simmons might put it, you don't watch Godfather III in between I and II.

And the final insult, the thing that seals the deal, is the fact that they moved it to Florida. The only watchable thing about the Pro Bowl in the past was watching to see what percentage of the stands was filled with offensive linemen who'd been bought tickets to Hawaii by their Pro Bowl-bound skill players - and the endearingly awkward interviews that went with them. With the game in Miami, that's gone. The one goofily human moment of the whole charade is removed. Sure, these guys could fly their O-lines to Miami, but hey, that's just a couple of hours. Sending your long snapper to Hawaii? That was commitment.

Big Mac and Pete Rose

I think at this point it's safe to assume that precisely no one has had their mind changed about Mark McGwire, steroids, Pete Rose, or anything else by impassioned blog posts, poorly thought out blog comments, or columns on ESPN.com. On the other hand, it certainly does seem to be generating clickthrough, which apparently is making someone happy.

That being said, I would like to propose a set of rules for the argument going forward:

1-You cannot criticize Mark McGwire unless you spell his last name properly. This holds particularly true if his name is spelled correctly in the title or body of the article/blog post/poorly thought out Gene Wojciechowski rant you are commenting upon.

2-Anyone pointing to Andy Pettite and Jason Giambi as "guys who came clean" must be able to quote the line where Giambi admitted publicly he did steroids. This may take them a while.

3-Any gratuitous asides at cranky old time Murray Chass types will be penalized two semicolons and a link to a Joe Posnanski post. There's enough to take issue with in the posts without reigniting the whole "Mainstream Media Versus Nerds In the Basement" idiocy.

4-Anyone pointing out that we don't know how much effect, if any, PEDs actually have on baseball production must perform six minutes of interpretive dance on YouTube for failing to recognize that the argument is one of perception, and the perception is that PEDs turned McGwire into Popeye. The required time is cut in half if they can name at least eight scrubeenies (team and position included) listed in the Mitchell Report as users who still couldn't crack the Top 30 at any position in the Sporting News Fantasy Baseball Guide.

5-McGwire's Hall of Fame candidacy and McGwire's current employment as hitting coach for the St. Louis Cardinals are two different things. Failure to recognize this is grounds for being forced to listen to a CD of Joe Morgan narrating recorded Bigfoot calls from rural Ohio.

6-Anyone claiming that since McGwire's steroid use was illegal, his Hall candidacy is forfeit must immediately make a blog post demanding the removal of Ty Cobb for his aggravated assault of Claude Lueker. However, the first commenter to note the extensive amphetamine use by baseball players in the 70s and 80s has their posting privileges revoked until the first commenter in the thread figures out exactly who Claude Lueker was.

I Don't Hate Brett Favre...

...because of the way he plays football. Indeed, being a fan of a team Favre likes to throw interceptions to during the playoffs has made me something of a Brett Favre fan.

No, I hate Brett Favre because the day after the conference championship games, one of which was decided in monumentally dramatic fashion, the lead football story on ESPN is "Will Brett Favre be back next year?"

Screw that noise. Can we have a little something about the guys still playing this year? Thanks.

A Question For Charger Fans

Funny how Nate Kaeding can make Norv Turner look exactly like Marty Schottenheimer, isn't it?

Penny Lane

Alas for poor, jilted Tennessee, whose mediocre football coach has abandoned them for greener pastures, or at least ones paved in greenbacks.

I can see feeling bad for his recruits. These are young men who had every reason to think he'd stick around and be their coach, especially since it was highly unlikely that anyone was going to swoop in and steal a guy whose head coaching resume consisted of one mediocre college season and a season-and-change of utter disaster in the NFL. Considering his paycheck, the dollars thrown at his assistants, and the fact that he really hasn't indicated that he's much of a head coach, he seemed as likely to be plucked from Tennessee as I am a candidate to go on Iron Chef.

And yet, USC nabbed him, largely because of past association and desperation, not to mention the fact that with the assistants he was bringing along, he was setting up to be the new lead singer for Pete Carroll's old band. Of course, that move always works well. Ask the guys in Journey about that one.

But I somehow can't find it in my uncharitable soul to feel the slightest sympathy for the University of Tennessee. Yup, their highly paid employees abandoned them at a critical time of the year (though ESPN tells us that every single day is critical for football, right?) How dare USC steal them away.

Except, of course, that UT did roughly the same thing with former defensive coordinator (and father of Lane) Monte Kiffin, whose senior(citizen)itis in his last half-season with Tampa Bay was so obvious it was painful. Everyone knew Monte was headed for Tennessee and a big paycheck, his Buccaneer defense fell apart, and nobody cared or bitched or blogged. But the lesson is simple - if you're going to poach, don't bitch when you get poached.

Speaking As A Writer...

...I look forward to seeing baseball players express outrage over the fact that Samuel Coleridge, Hunter S. Thompson, Stephen King, and Marcel Proust, among others, used performance-enhancing drugs while writing.

So Speaketh Robothal

On recently fired Indians manager Eric Wedge:

"Someone is going to hire Eric Wedge on the rebound, and someone is going to get a great manager."

Just, presumably, not the team that hires Eric Wedge.

NFL News

So the Eagles signed a backup quarterback and the Vikings signed an old quarterback. What's the big deal?

Strange things afoot at DBAP

Generally, when I see a top pitcher live, he gets punked. Carlton was the exception, but Clemens? Pedro? Maddux? They all get clobbered when I'm in the stadium. It's the Kirk Rueters of the world who get their schwerve on and throw three-hitters where I can see them.

Tonight, it was Jake Peavy's turn. He was doing a rehab start for Charlotte - four innings of 65 pitches, whichever came first - and he wasn't quite Jake Peavy. Command was the issue, unsurprisingly. When he was on, the Bulls were swinging out of their shoes. When he wasn't, Joe Dillon was bouncing one off the bull-shaped sign over the left field wall. And in case you're asking, yes, Mighty Joe D did in fact win a steak dinner. Two, actually.

His opposite number, Wade Davis, cruised through 7 2/3, with a no-hitter through 5. He sat 90-92 and dialed it up to 94 on occasion, and was still hitting 93 when they took him out. One troublesome note - not a lot of swings and misses there, and when he threw offspeed stuff, it seemed to get hit hard.

And for the record, Dale Thayer has one of the all-time great porn 'staches.

Lost in the Hullaballoo...

...over the fact that that Neal Huntingdon dared break up The Big Yellow Machine in Pittsburgh is the fact that the organization has quietly been spending money. Specifically, they've been shelling out for above-slot bonuses for draft picks. In other words, they are - egads - investing in rebuilding the system. This, I think, is a slightly more worthwhile goal than striving for 83 wins with a bunch of soon-to-be-free-agents.

To be fair, this is the model the team was building toward a couple of years ago, only to have Jim Tracy systematically wreck the promising young rotation of Duke, Snell, Gorzelanny, and friends. With the pitching those guys could have provided, a team with LaRoche, Wilson, Sanchez, et alia might have been close enough to the wild card to consider adding pieces. Without them, fuggedabout it. Time to tear it down and start over, and to their credit, the Pirates aren't just sitting on the money the trades freed up. That, more than anything else, seems indicative of brighter days ahead in Pittsburgh.

And as Tracy closes in on the permanent job in Colorado (largely by virtue of not being Clint Hurdle), I weep for Jhoulys Chacin's shoulder.

Moyer Goes To Pen...

Unfortunately, the Phillies' new bullpen coach is named Logan 3. Run, Jamie, run!

Plaxico Burress Makes His Case In Court

Word is that he started his defense with the words "Chewbacca...is a wookie."

On the Pirates' Fire Sale

For those who would bemoan the trading of such baseball immortals as Adam "Wait, it's August?" LaRoche, John Grabow, and Freddy "Extra Base Hits Are For Suckers" Sanchez, I would point out with all due respect that these guys really aren't that #@@#$#@ing good.

Whether the prospects Neal Huntington got back for them will be good themselves someday is an entirely different question, but moaning over the breakup of this juggernaut is like crying bitter tears of blood over the news that there will never be another GTR album.

Ever.

Mike Schmidt Flipped My Father The Bird

(crossposted in my LJ)

30 years ago, Mike Schmidt flipped my father the bird.

For those of you who are baseball fans, this is probably amusing and/or impressive. For those of you who are not, Michael Jack Schmidt was the perennial all-star third baseman for the Philadelphia Phillies teams of my youth, a Hall of Famer and the man widely regarded as the greatest third baseman ever to play the game.

And he flipped my father off.

Not that Dad didn't necessarily deserve it. He was at the game with some friends when Schmidt booted a routine grounder. Dad, being Brooklyn born and bred and heir to the legacy of Hilda "Cowbell" Chester and her Bums-loving cohorts, shouted "Way to set up the double play!" Since Dad and his friends were in seats right on the field, Mr. Schmidt heard him, turned, and made what Monty Python used to refer to as "a splendid gesture".

I've been telling that story for years. It amuses the hell out of me for numerous reasons - Dad's heckling, Schmidt's perfectly understandable reaction, and the pure Philly-ness of it all. It couldn't happen today, of course - someone would throw the video of Schmidt's extended middle digit up on YouTube, there would be an artificially generated controversy that would rage across sports talk radio until another football player ran over a llama while watching porn on his SUV's dashboard DVD player, and there would be insincere apologies all the way around. But no, I like it the way it happened. Dad made a smart-ass comment, one that stuck to the events on the field, stayed clean, and didn't touch personal matters or family - in short, what heckling is supposed to be. Schmidt responded. End of story, except that it's a great story.

Fast forward three decades.

Dad and I are at Five County Stadium, watching the latest incarnation of the Carolina Mudcats run themselves out of a ballgame they should be winning handily. Half the lineup is staring up wistfully at the Mendoza line. The starting pitcher spends the third inning grooving belt-high fastballs at 91 MPH, which get turned into wall-rattling doubles with startling regularity. Matador defense is the order of the night, with multiple errors called and more there for the calling.

And after a few more innings, the Mudcats' third baseman boots a routine grounder. I figure, what the heck, give Dad a laugh. The guys in the rows in front of us are heckling like crazy anyway, so why not jump in?

So I cup my hand to my mouth and shout, "Way to set up the double play!" The folks sitting near us laugh. Dad turns around and says, "That's my line from thirty years ago." He's grinning. So am I. We're too far away from the third baseman for him to have heard us, so no birds are flipped, and we all get a good laugh.

Until the next batter comes up and rips a shot down the first base line. The first baseman makes a spectacular play, then flings the ball to second. The second baseman catches it and makes the exchange from his glove hand in the instant before the runner from first barrels into him. He lauches a throw wide of the first base bag and the pitcher, racing to cover it, goes nearly vertical to snag it while dragging his foot across the bag.

Double play, 3-6-1 as the kids might score it. Inning over.

Dad and I, we don't say anything. We don't need to, except, a little later, "Helluva game, isn't it?"

Random Thoughts

Michael Vick...Has there ever been this much airtime and print wasted over the possible comeback of a mediocre quarterback who's been out of the league for a couple of years? Because, legal issues notwithstanding, that's what we're talking about here.

Brett Favre...So he decided that the first day of work was his deadline for deciding whether or not to show up for work? And then decided he needed more time? The fact that Favre's latest bit of waffling came to light only after the media frenzy lurched over to Vickville is, I'm sure, strictly coincidence.

Roy Halladay...Clearly the teams offering the Jays top prospects are doing it wrong. If you want to get J. P. Ricciardi to bite, offer an overpriced centerfielder on a long-term contract. He luuuurrrves those...

Speaking of which...As a Phillies fan, I'm mildly boggled that we have prospects good enough to be considered "untouchable". As in "prospects", plural.

Alex Rodriguez...Just curious. How do you think the media would have reacted if he'd been the one sued for sexual assault instead of Ben Roethlisberger?

Speaking of which...All the "He's no good without the juice" stories seem to have died down lately, don't you think? Funny how giving a player coming off major hip surgery might a day or two off here and there helps him stay productive, don't you think?

Tony LaRussa...He got a big bat - two, really. He got a shortstop. He got everything he's asked for, and the Cards have gutted their farm system to give it to him. If he doesn't win the NL Central, who's going to get blamed?

The Yankees' radio broadcast team...They're possibly the worst I've ever heard at calling a game. Incoherent, nonsensical homers who wander away from the action to make their random points, and who are more interested in catch-phrases - I think I heard four attached to a single Mark Texeira home run - than in describing the game. No, thanks.

Tony Bernazard...I've got his rookie card around somewhere. It's one of those "Future Stars" things with 3 guys on it. Oddly enough, in the biographical data on the back, nowhere does it say, "Will someday go completely batshit insane in a minor league clubhouse".

Random Trade Thoughts

Pirates trade OF Nyjer Morgan and a random arm to Washington for OF Lastings Milledge and RP Joel Hanrahan
What Pittsburgh gets: The best talent in the deal in the form of Milledge, whose rep as a knucklehead seems largely to have been foisted on him by A)the New York media and B)reigning Mets knucklehead Billy Wagner. He's not a center fielder, but with Andrew McCutcheon out there, the Pirates can put him in right where he belongs and give him time to mature into his freaky-good talent. As for Hanrahan, when he's right he throws gas, which is something lacking in the Pirates' pen. If they straighten him out - and I have a random sneaky suspicion his control problems this year are elbow-related, not "can't pitch"-related - then Pittsburgh may have gotten a steal.
What Washington gets: A fungible bullpen arm in Sean Burnett, in a year when the Nats are this close to throwing a strong-armed peanut vendor into the pen and hoping for the best. Also, an actual center fielder. No, Morgan doesn't have the upside of Milledge - he's older and has minimal power. But he's an actual, honest-to-God center fielder who can catch the ball and play the position, unlike the parade of Lurch clones the Nats have been throwing out there all year. There's value in putting a strong defensive team behind a staff of young pitchers you're trying to develop, and doing it sooner rather than later can only help the development of guys like Jordan Zimmerman, Ross Detwiler, and The Once and Future Strasburg.
Who Wins: Pittsburgh. They didn't need Morgan with McCutcheon up, and they got the better player and the better pitcher. It's not a a terrible trade for DC, but the tangible results will most likely favor the Pirates.

Atlanta trades wind machine Jeff Francoeur to New York Mets for OF Ryan Church
What New York gets: Someone the casual fan might of heard of, seeing as he appeared to beat the hell out of the ball for the Braves back when casual Mets fans were paying attention. Decent defense and durability in right field. And that's about it - Francoeur's still young, but so's Lady Gaga, and she's got a better swing than he does.
What Atlanta gets: A solid outfielder with a history of concussions and a bad rap in New York. Church won't set the world on fire, but when he's on the field he can rake a little and catch the ball. Touching third base is a different question, but hopefully he's figured that part of the game out by now. If he avoids getting kneed in the head again, he's a definite upgrade at a position that was a sucking black hole for the Braves offensively. As has been noted elsewhere, going from "awful" to "decent" is often as important an upgrade as "decent" to "star".
Who wins: On the field? Atlanta, which gets a solid platoon outfielder who's likely to improve once he's away from Citi Field. Off the field? New York, which adds a new heartthrob for the team to market the heck out of.

Royals trade two minor league pitchers for Seattle for SS Yuniesky Betancourt
What the Royals get: An expensive shortstop-type who's in career free-fall. His early promise with the bat has evaporated, his defense is increasingly matador-like, and by all accounts his interest level in the game is now largely occasional. Then again, he's also expensive, and the Royals should have a decent shortstop option next year when the much cheaper Mike Aviles returns from surgery. (That is, of course, if the Royals' medical staff doesn't accidentally graft him to a monkey with five asses or some such. Read Rany Jazayerli's piece on the Royals' medical woes, and tell me it couldn't happen.)
What the Mariners get: Two minor league arms with upside. Huge righty Daniel Cortes' two problems are A)control and B)getting his head out of his ass, as indicated by his recent arrest for public piddling in Arkansas. One suspects fixing B might help with A, and if he can get back to the 96 MPH he was throwing last year, he could have a big impact. The second pitcher in the deal, Derrick Saito, looks like he has "situational reliever" written all over him, but getting one of those isn't necessarily a bad thing. Just ask the Nationals what they'd do for a guy they could trust to get tough righties out.
Who wins: If the move to Kansas City, the city of Gates BBQ and endless steak, re-ignites a desire to play hard and condition himself well in Betancourt, then the Royals might come out of this all right. I don't like the chances, either. Even if neither Cortes nor Saito pans out, this is a win for the Mariners just by dint of payroll flexibility. If either of the pitchers turn out to be something, then this just gets ugly.

Cavs Trade for Shaq

And we've got a sneak preview of what the Cleveland offense will look like when they put The Big Aristotle and Big Z Ilgauskas on the floor at the same time. That's not Mothra on the right, that's Moe Williams cutting to the basket.

And Another Thing...

"Stupid San Diego Padres! Get offa my lawn!"

Listening to Peter Pascarelli on ESPN's baseball podcast, one gets the unshakable impression that he is busily filling his house with balloons so he can bid farewell to Bristol, once and for all.

Late Night Tidbits

• After reading the teaser for Rick Reilly's latest column, I can assure him: I don't hate Kobe. I hate Rick Reilly columns.
• Tony LaRussa's cries for another bat for the Cardinals would seem to make sense until you realize that he's got two 30-homer guys on his roster, not to mention a preseason RoY candidate center fielder, whom he's sitting half the time. LaRussa's outfield usage patterns have long since started to resemble the mixed drinks you get at frathouse golf parties; someone thinks they're being very clever by using whatever's on hand, but the result is rarely optimal. If he were less interested in appearing the genius by playing matchups with obscure Stahovinoids, he'd put Ludwick in left, Rasmus in center, and Ankiel in right, and leave them there so they could get regular at-bats and thus start hitting.
• History will regard this year's NBA finals as a somewhat boring beatdown, but if the Magic had made 2 more free throws, the series would be headed back to LA with the Magic up 3 games to 2. This, kids, is why you practice free throws.
• I completely agree with LZ Granderson that tagging Dwight Howard as "Wonder Woman" after the finals is equal parts sexist and stupid. After all, all comics geeks know that Wonder Woman is fully capable of some serious ass-kicking. May I recommend instead Bizarro?
• Just to be clear, the blogger who started the Raul Ibanez kerfuffle did not say "I think Raul Ibanez is on steroids." He said, "Given the evidence, people are going to wonder if he's on steroids." This, naturally got ignored in all the subsequent insanity, but it did place the mainstream media types in an interesting place: they love insinuating guys use steroids (see Baker, Geoff; Reilly, Rick; Roberts, Selena; and the beat goes on) but hate bloggers. Oh, the dilemma! Oh, the geshrying! Naturally, they came down on the side of "hate bloggers"...and then went chasing the Sammy Sosa story.
• Interesting how the Sosa thing gets leaked now, incidentally. I'm starting to get the feeling someone with access to those 2003 test results is on Roger Goodell's payroll.
• Memo to the people bitching over how much Stephen Strasburg might get: RELAX. IT'S NOT YOUR MONEY. It's the team's, and it's no skin off your back if they decide to pay him $50M over six years. That's revenue sharing money they're spending, anyway. Talent should be worth what it can get. Period. Last time I checked, that was called the free market. There's already an artificial restraint of trade in the form of the draft; why should the teams be the only ones to leverage the draft to their financial advantage?
  
• Nice to see the added coverage given the MLB draft this year, even if it was largely Strasburg-driven. There's also a lot more coverage of the College World Series, which ESPN has started pushing hard. One wonders if they're positioning it as a hedge against the MLB network...
  

Memo the Guy Who Writes Ad Text For VYPE

The local sports-talk stations are inundated with adds for VYPE SPORTS MAGAZINE, the guide to the life and lifestyle of today's high school athlete!

For the record, there is a form of address used for people my age who show too much interest in the life and lifestyle of today's high school athlete. It is "the defendant".

Rumblin Stumblin Bumblin

• There are few more unlikely terms in sports than "Ryan Howard triples to left."
• Reason #2456 that front office types should not be allowed near microphones: Vinny Cerrato talking about how Jason Campbell "exuberates" his leadership.
• With the growing interest in the MLB amateur draft, how long is it before Keith Law is forced by ESPN to adopt Mel Kiper Jr's hairstyle?
• When they have to tell you how big an upset it is, it's not that big an upset. Sorry, Rafael Nadal.
• Lakers in six. They'll take the first two, lose game 3, take game 4, lose 5 on a gutsy effort by the desperate Magic, and then blow out the completely gassed Magic in Game Six.
• Meanwhile, Shaq will be openly rooting for a meteor to hit the arena midway through the second quarter of game five.
• Memo to ESPN.com - I can recycle old Rick Reilly columns at the fraction of the cost of having the real Rick Reilly do it. Plus, I actually like sports.

Favre and Away

The Minnesota Vikins chasing Brett Favre is the rough equivalent of the bassoon player in the high school band finally getting his chance to hook up with the prom queen at their 30th reunion. Except, of course, that the prom queen is now a chain-smoking, twice-divorced cougar with a bit of a drinking problem and a voice like Abe Vigoda.

Ramirez Tests Positive for PEDs

Is this a case of Manny just being Barry?

Harry Kalas, R.I.P.

When I was a kid, there was a clock radio that I kept next to my bed. It was set to KYW, the station that broadcast Phillies games. The rest of the time, it was all-news, all the time, but that didn't matter. It was only on for Phillies games.

That clock radio fit under my pillow. I know this, because there were many, many summer nights when that's where it went, stuffed underneath with the volume up just enough that I could hear it, turned down low enough that my parents wouldn't hear me listening. And I'd listen to Richie Ashburn and Chris Wheeler and Andy Musser, and most of all, to Harry Kalas calling the games, all summer long. They were my lullaby. I'd stay up late to listen to them, fall asleep hearing the description of that three-two pitch, struggle to keep my eyes open long enough to get some of those late games at San Diego or LA.

There were good years, Schmidt and Carlton and Garry Maddox out in centerfield. There were the dirtball miracles of '83 and '93, and the horrible teams of the Chris James/Glenn Wilson/Steve Jeltz years. There was John Denny, and there was Floyd Youmans. There was Steve "Bedrock" Bedrosian, and there was Joe "The Saver" Boever. And Harry called them all, always fair but always a fan, always the voice that meant "Phillies".

Some of the words will resonate longer than others. "Outta here", of course, and that deliberate, affectionate "Michael Jack Schmidt." If you're a fan, you'll remember "Swing...and a long drive" or "It's gotta chance!" or that deliberate, looping "Swing and a miss, he struck 'em out", which looks like nothing on the page but meant everything on the ear. We'll probably be hearing a lot of that last World Series call over the next couple of days, a lot of Mike Schmidt's 500th home run and that home run call in general. And that's fine, and wonderful, and a great way to remember him.

But I'll remember listening to Bruce Ruffin dismember the Padres in a nothing game, right after he was called up and everyone thought he might be the second coming of Carlton. I'll remember that magical 1980 season, and hearing about balls clanking off Charlie Hayes' glove. And I'll remember these last couple of years, when the internet let me pick up the Phillies' home radio feed, and I could hear that voice again, and felt, for an inning or two, like I was still that kid hugging a clock radio under his pillow.

So goodbye, Harry the K, and thank you. You gave us something wonderful, and even us Phillies fans - rough, tough, cranky, nasty Phillies fans - loved you for it. Godspeed, and here's hoping that wherever you are, there's baseball.

WBC

So there are people who love it because it beats the hell out of split-squad B-games from Bradenton. There are people who love it because of the whole national pride thing. There are people who hate it for precisely the same reason, or who decry it for being a pointless exhibition/money grab, or whatever.

I think, largely, they're missing the point.

For me, the WBC is really the spiritual heir to the old barnstorming tours that Gehrig and Ruth used to take their teams on, occasionally bouncing off Satchel Paige and squads of Negro League All-Stars or local all-star teams or whatever. Play "what if", put a couple of lineups born out of sports bar bullshit sessions - and let's face it, lots of us were playing "which country would win?" for ages before this thing got off the ground - and turn it loose.

That's all I want from it, that's all I need from it, and that's sufficient to provide me with plenty of enjoyment. I think the round system's screwy, the pitch count setup is goofy, and the pool setup's a little weird, but what the hell. It's fun to watch. After a winter without baseball, that's more than enough.

Because I Care...

...I think someone really needs to tell the guy who does the Hurricanes' radio commercials that no matter how deep and gruff your voice is, the words "Teacher Appreciation Night" just aren't imposing.

Question for NC State Fans...

You think maybe Herb wasn't the problem after all?

That Didn't Take Long...

According to ESPN, Dallas has released Terrell Owens.

I was walking through the DFW airport when news broke that the Cowboys had signed Owens. All around me, folks were stopping to look at the TV monitors, shouting "Yeah!" and high-fiving each other.

They looked at me funny when I started laughing.

Ah, Baseball

Watched this first few innings of baseball today, a frame or two of the Mets beating the living hell out of the Astros. The Astros treated the ball like it was covered in unobtainium, Clay Hensley pitched like a man possessed...by Clay Hensley, and the Mets hit two homers that cleared the waist-high fences by about twelve inches, combined.

Doesn't matter. Old friend, I've missed you.

Adam Eaton Moves On

Eaton has signed with the Orioles, and outside the Eaton household, no one cares.. Baltimore, rapidly becoming the destination of choice for broken-down pitchers who once had great promise, signed Eaton for $400K and the promise to have someone else open all of his DVDs for him.

Bowden's Gone

On behalf of my Nats-loving friend Hal, Hallalelujah.

As a baseball fan who was disgusted by watching the circus in DC, Hallelujah.

As a Phillies fan who looked forward to feasting on the Nats 18 or so times a year, I say "ah, crud."

And while Bowden may proclaim himself innocent of any and all charges related to the Dominican bonus-skimming scandal that got Jose Rijo fired, that doesn't mean he can refute the charges of being a terrible GM. Whoever takes over - LaCava, Rizzo, the resurrected Paul DePodesta (hey, a geek can dream) will almost have to do better, just because the bar has been set so low.

Weapon X Is Now A Bronco

Brian Dawkins, long a mainstay of the Eagles defense, signed a 5-year deal with Denver today, which will cause no end of friction between me and my brother-in-law, the Broncos fan.

All that being said, I don't think this will bite the Eagles too badly, for several reasons. For one, Dawkins had notably slowed this year, and while his instincts remained impeccable, his production tailed off significantly. For another, Jim Johnson's defense did a lot to emphasize Dawkins' strengths and hide his weaknesses, something that the new scheme he'll be playing in Denver may not do. And finally, if the Eagles have depth anywhere, it's at defensive back.

So farewell, Weapon X, and thanks for the memories. Good luck in Denver - I think you're going to need it.

I Guess The New Coach Hates Country...

"Coach wants to see you. Bring your playbooks. And your moustaches."

Brooks, Dunn released by Tampa Bay...

Lerner's Permit

I used to play fantasy baseball with a guy a lot like Jim Bowden. He was great to have in the league, in large part because he was about as willing a trade partner as you could find this side of the East India Company. He traded and churned his roster incessantly, and if you entered into negotiations with him, all you had to do was wait him out because sooner or later he'd propose a combination that you could live with.

This made for some interesting deals, but not a lot of upper-division finishes, and for the longest time I couldn't understand why he played the way he did. Then, finally, I figured it out.

He wasn't interested in winning. He was interested in looking smart. Every deal, every transaction was a chance to show off how clever he was. The macro didn't matter, and he was incapable of cohering his various moves into a long-term strategy. But each trade he made, he had to "win", and let you know he'd won, and have people tell him how clever he'd been.

That's Jim Bowden. He's completely failed to put together a team. He's made some good trades and interesting signings, but they don't fit together, and he's failed to deal from strength or address weaknesses. But each of those individual deals - for Milledge and Dukes and Willingham and whoever - is clever, right? Each of them by itself was a pretty good move.

As for the Dominican bonus scandal, well, that sounds like a guy trying to be too clever, too. The money, ultimately, couldn't have been the real incentive, not with the money that's floating around for successful GMs these days. No, it had to be the feeling of getting away with something, with getting one over on the system. Was it conducive to building a good team? No, but that's tomorrow's problem. Today was all about getting away with it.

He's probably not going to be getting away with it any more. There aren't going to be many more of those momentary victories. And the franchise he was entrusted with will be, at the end of the day, not very good as a result of all of his efforts.

Here's hoping the Lerners do the right thing, for their business' sake. Get rid of Bowden - his track record certainly mandates it. Let someone new come in to clean up the mess. Someone dedicated to teambuilding. Someone who can plan long-term. Someone who, at the end of the day, doesn't constantly need to be told he's clever.

In Other News...

...Brett Favre has not yet announced his unretirement.

The clock, however, is ticking.

Uncool kid

Alex Rodriguez' real problem isn't PEDs. It's that he isn't cool. The cool kids get away with this stuff. Think about Jason Giambi, all golden thongs and tats and almost-confessions that let us pretend he's come clean so we can love him again. But the uncool kids - the jerks like Bonds and the bullies like Clemens and the sanctimonious teachers' pets like Raffy Palmiero - they don't get away with it. In the court of public opinion, ultimately they're tried for being uncool, and that's when they really get hammered.

So consider A-Rod. When he came up with the Mariners, he was the overachieving nerd, the gawky, hyper-talented kid on a team that already had its smiling, beloved face in Ken Griffey, Jr. He wasn't cool; Griffey sucked up most of the cool in the room, and what was left went to the glowering but personable Randy Johnson. A-Rod was the grind, the kid all the cool kids went to for help with their homework. Big Unit racked up strikeouts, Junior leapt over the wall to take away homers, and A-Rod was the baseball equivalent of the study-hound, quietly excelling in the shadow of the more popular kids.

When his free agency rolled around, that was the defining moment for Rodriguez' coolness. He could have established himself as cool if he'd stayed in Seattle, pledged his loyalty to one team and let the narrative be written for him. Loyal player, wants to win with the team that signed him, blah blah blah - the writers would have made him a hero. Or, if he'd signed with the Cubs, or the Yankees, or the Red Sox - one of the grand old "tradition" franchises - that would have been a story, and potentially could have cemented him as a Schilling-esque "student of the game".

But no, he chased the dollars down in Texas, forever branding himself the two-faced greedhead who lied about wanting to stay in Seattle while going for the big bucks. Never mind that's what me or thee might do - getting paid epic gobs of money to move to a more favorable work environment? Where do I sign? - it was an uncool thing to do. The contract made him an easy target, but the die had been cast. He was all about the money, and visible greed, without lip service to tradition or loyalty or "the chance to win" is uncool.

The botched trade to the Red Sox and the subsequent arrival in New York? More of the same. Never mind that he was willing to take less scratch to go to Boston; that didn't fit the narrative, so it got ignored. Instead, it was all about not caring which "side" in the rivalry he landed on, and then, the worst thing possible:

Landing in New York, playing the same position as Captain Jetes.

Derek Jeter, you see, is cool. Really cool. And he did exactly what the cool kids have been doing to the uncool kids since time immemorial - he picked on A-Rod. Forced him to acknowledge Jeter's dominance, sandbagged him in the media, withheld support at key moments, and made it clear that nobody else was supposed to like A-Rod either.

It didn't help that A-Rod wanted to be cool, which meant wanting Jeter to like him - a sucker bet if ever there were one. He agreed to slide to third base, despite the fact that he was the superior defender at short, but got no credit for the move - or for improving Jeter's defense. And he waited for Jeter to come to his defense over the post-season nonsense when it was never in Jeter's interest to do so. After all, making A-Rod cool would have diminished Jeter's own standing as the coolest kid in school, the queen bee of the Yankee scene's mean girls.

And yet, Rodriguez kept trying, as if he wanted to be cool but didn't know how. Dating Madonna? That's cool, right. Well, it might have been when Jose Canseco did it, but Madonna's coolness factor has long since passed its sell-by date. But it's what Madonna stood for that Rodriguez was after, anyway, the trophy that signified he'd made it past the velvet rope into a place that neither his money nor his stats could ever get him. It's sad to watch. Behind every over-calculated move is one eternally burning question: "Will this get people to like me?"

The answer, for now and always, is no.

Concerning the recent BC-Duke Men's Basketball Clash...

I got my MA from Boston College.

I live in Durham, NC.

Life is good.

Math Is Hard, Continued

Among the breathless state-of-the-game pronouncements in the latest Sporting News is this one:

"almost half of baseball's 30 teams fall below the average rank of 62nd in in-market fan loyalty"

Or, if you want to put it another way, "more than half of them rate above average."

*sigh*

On the other hand, the interview in this week's issue with Shaquille O'Neal is a revelation - sharp, funny, honest and revealing.

Screw You, Tom Hicks

Considering all of the crooked dealings surrounding Tom Hicks' purchase of the Texas Rangers - and if you don't believe me, look up things like "the Arlington Sports Facilities Development Authority" and "UTIMCO" - for him to utter sanctimonious horseshit about how he feels "betrayed" by Alex Rodriguez' admission of steroid use is near the intersection of "loathsome" and "two-faced." If Mr. Hicks really feels that bad about it, he can refund the ticket revenues he received based on the appeal of Mr. Rodriguez, along with the regional sports network he built on the A-Rodded Rangers, the commercial sponsorships he accepted during that time, and, while he's at it, the land seized from private citizens for land speculation projects around the stadium site.

The local residents who got their properties nabbed by ASFDA so the Rangers' ownership could buy them out cheap were betrayed - betrayed by their team and by their state government. You, Mr. Hicks, were not betrayed. You went into the deal with your eyes open, benefitted from it immensely, and have no moral standing to decry it now

And I say again, screw you.

And Bruce Begat A-Rod

I blame Steven Spielberg.

I don't think he did it intentionally, mind you. But when he cobbled together Jaws, hiding a defective mechanical shark behind isn't-or-isn't-it there cinematography, he ushered in the age of the blockbuster, the mindset that says that everything's got to be the biggest, the best, the most important or the most catastrophic. And, like it or not, we haven't been the same since.

It's what brings us the Super Bowl in its current incarnation, the NFL recast as Roman gladiators fighting to the death for the noblest of causes. It's what brings us local news reports that breathlessly ask "Is Your Child's Favorite Popsicle A Killer?", to be followed by "This Common Household Cleaner Could Kill You!" and "Killer Secrets Of Your Lawn Care!", day by day by day. It means that movies that stick around more than two weeks are huge, and ones that don't are flops, and there is no middle ground. It means that every pretty young thing who got fifteen minutes in CW teen show is suddenly the hottest thing ever, until next week and she's in the "Where are they now?" file. It's all or nothing, do or die, and every breaking story has to be bigger and more important and fraught with more significance than the one before.

Seriously. How many "games of the century" have we had in college football so far this millennium? Six? Seven? And yet when the next one comes along, we line up for it like suckers, because THIS one is EVEN BIGGER.

Or so they would have us believe.

Part and parcel of all this, of course, is the fact that when you're in blockbuster land, nuance goes out the window. There's no room for the subtleties, the idea that there's more to anything than a simple hero/villain narrative. There's no place for context or a framing narrative, no examination of what the supposedly villainous or heroic act means. It's just the punchline, howled over and over into the echo chamber of a culture where we the mob howls to itself and thinks it's getting its voice heard.

Which brings us to the unfortunate case of Alex Rodriguez. In short, he did steroids, which are a no-no. He did them in a time when there were no penalties attached and he apparently stopped, none of which matters, as the only part of the narrative that has made it to the mainstream is "A-ROD IS A CHEATER".

Well, yeah. But there's more, there's always more. There's the fact that the test results that got leaked should have been destroyed years ago. And the fact that they're evidence in a trial, and leaking them is in fact a federal crime. And the fact that they were leaked right as the Barry Bonds trial - itself looking more and more like an out-of-control boondoggle - is heating up. And the reporter who broke the story has a history with Rodriguez, and has a book on him coming out soon. And there's no real evidence that PEDs as a class actually do enhance performance. And why are PEDs bad when LASIK surgery isn't, and why is it no big deal that the 1970s Steelers were all 'roided out of their minds when they were winning Super Bowls but 5-year old test results on A-Rod are news now, and why do we loathe A-Rod and not give a damn about Paul Byrd or Guillermo Mota, and...

You get the idea. It's the blockbuster concept, the thing that gets the normally levelheaded Jayson Stark to view this as the final torching of baseball's bridge to its past. At best, it's emotional thinking; at worst it's lazy and malicious, a cheapshot for the sake of seizing unstable moral high ground. I'm sorry, but I don't need an admitted steroid user like Mike Golic telling me how bad this is for baseball. I don't need the same reporters who lionized Roger Clemens until they feasted on his flesh to moan about the betrayal of the game's ideals. I don't need Vinnie from Saugus to write obscenity-filled "comments" on the end of overblown ESPN.com op-eds proclaiming Rodriguez' entire career - a career in which even his sandbagging former manager has admitted that he worked harder than anyone - the worst thing ever to happen to baseball. All it does is distract from the real problem, and allow for false band-aid solutions that can conveniently be ripped off whenever we need a new blood sacrifice on the front page.

In a sane and just world, we'd be worrying about other problems than this right now. Economic panic, war, genocide, disease, looming environmental changes and more - these are the things we should be getting upset about. In a slightly saner and more just world, we'd at least look at all the aspects of the story before rushing online with our imaginary pitchforks and torches. But we're in the world we're in, which means that A-Rod will be tried, convicted and tried again in the star chamber of semi-public opinion because it makes good copy, and because we like to see the mighty fall. All the rest - all the things we'd want taken into consideration if it were us in the spotlight - is details, chaff in the wind. Eventually, it will all blow away, roughly around the time the outrage well is running dry. There'll be a new greatest scandal ever, and another one after that, and another one after that.

And the stuff that matters, the stuff that's important - whether it's the context around the blockbuster accusation, or the truly horrifying stuff like the Rae Carruths and Ugie Urbinas and Ambiorix Burgoses and so forth - gets ignored because it doesn't fit the blockbuster story mode. A scrub wide receiver or middle reliever isn't a big enough villain, after all. Contradictory evidence doesn't make for a good enough story. Time and again, we'll go for the big target and the easy shot.

Maybe, honestly, it's because PEDs aren't really a big deal. We can turn on Bonds and Clemens and Palmiero and McGwire, can pretend they've let us down horribly because there's nothing too terrible about having rooted for a guy who may have cheated. Look too closely at an Urbina, though, and we have to confess that we actively cheered on a guy who went after another human being with gasoline and a machete. Demand blood with Carruth, and you admit that once upon a time, we rooted for a cowardly, despicable murderer. That makes us feel bad, makes us question the blind loyalty we give our sports teams and heroes. And we can't have that sort of thing, so we turn on the big names who've committed the minor infractions to make ourselves feel superior, and to give our fandom easy absolution.

It makes sense, as unpleasant a thought as it may be. Blockbuster movies are ones with lots of explosions, lots of inhuman feats of derring-do, and not a lot of nuance. In the end, they make you feel good. No wonder we demand the same from our scandals, again and again and again.

Michael Phelps Caught With Bong

Suddenly, the mystery of how he chows down that megacaloric diet of his is made clear.

Also, I don't actually care.

Things My Fantasy Baseball Guide Does Not Need To Teach Me

1. Drafting too many players without proven track records is bad.
2. Making moves during the season is essential to winning.
3. Guys who have secure jobs going into the season are better than guys who don't.
4. All things being equal, you don't want the hitter from San Diego.
5. All things being equal, you don't want the pitcher from Colorado.
6. Moises Alou may be an injury risk.
7. Prince Fielder is a large man.
8. Now that A.J. Burnett has a new contract, he's probably not going to perform as well.
9. Guys who play first base probably aren't going to steal a lot of bases.
10. Closers become available during the season.
11. Some guys who go undrafted will probably put up big numbers.
12. Some guys who get drafted early will probably stink.
13. Albert Pujols is god.

Also, for the love of God, people, please stop putting your inane mock drafts in your publications? No one, and I repeat, no one wants to listen to anyone else talk about their fantasy baseball drafts. What in the world makes you think I want to pay for the privilege? The fact that precisely half of these "expert-drafted" teams are, by definition, below average means that you're sandbagging the authority of any advice those people might be giving in your publication.

Screw it. Where's Tuffy Rhodes when you need him?

Random Thoughts on the Super Bowl

Give the Cardinals credit for amazing goal line defense. It's what saved them against the Eagles, and it nearly let them steal the game from Pittsburgh. The one yard line isn't good enough, fellas - it has to go all the way into the end zone.

Pittsburgh let Arizona back into the game by going away from #10 in the fourth quarter. When tey tried to chew time off the clock by running it, they got stuffed, which forced them into passing downs and got Big Ben sacked. If they'd stuck to what had gotten them out to a 13 point lead - dumping it to Holmes in the flat and letting him grab twenty yards at a pop - it would have been a laugher.

They pretty much could have called holding on Gandy on every single play.

Never have I seen so many idiotic penalties in a Super Bowl. This may have been an exciting game, but it certainly wasn't a well-played one. And what on earth did Francisco say about Harrison's wife/sister/mother/pet schnauzer to inspire that little bit of MMA action? Good grief

Discuss

1) Jeff Kent is the Don Sutton of second basemen.

2) Any fantasy baseball guide that touts soft-tossing guys with phenomenal AAA control stats as sleeper rookie picks needs to be looked at with extreme suspicion.

3) MLB needs to hire some game designers to work out the balance issues in their free agency compensation.

4) One should only deride players who pass on the WBC for being unpatriotic when the executive-types mandating their appearances forgo their paychecks for the honor and glory of USA baseball as well.

5) All of the trendy early talk discussing the Giants as potential contenders in the west ignores the fact that there still isn't anyone on that team who can hit.

In Pace Requiescat: Kay Yow

18 years is a hell of a fight. Hall of famer, gold medal winner, coach, teacher, and by all accounts a fine and upstanding individual: Rest in peace, coach.

Padres Sign Henry Blanco

And when Henry Blanco actually improves your club, you've got work to do.

Math Is Hard

Cole Hamels, the Phillies' ace and the guy who hauled them across the finish line in October, got $20.25M for three years.
Ryan Madson, setup guy who completely bombed as a starter, got $12M for three years.

As much as I love Ryan Madson (in a manly, platonic, fannish way) - and yes, I do have an autographed baseball I won at auction at a Durham Bulls game and, oh, never mind. The point I was trying to make is if you're paying a setup man a significant fraction of what you're paying your ace, A)your ace is underpaid and B)you're paying way, way, waaay too much for your setup man. And it's not like they're locking up their closer-in-waiting; the Phils have Brad Lidge under contract for arguably longer than they've got Madson.

This Amaro person, he confuses me, and makes me sad.