Also, Santa Claus Raped the Tooth Fairy While the Easter Bunny Watched and Laughed

You know, just when you think you're already disillusioned, that you can't really be unpleasantly surprised any more by the actions of public figures, let alone professional athletes... the world finds a way to prove you wrong.

St. Louis Cardinals outfielder Rick Ankiel, who punctuated a storybook comeback from pitching woes by homering twice with 7 RBIs Thursday, joined the list of athletes linked to a Florida-based steroids investigation.

The New York Daily News reported Friday that Ankiel received a 12-month supply of human growth hormone in 2004 from a Florida pharmacy that was part of a national illegal prescription drug-distribution operation, citing records its reporters saw.

I should point out here that this story only alleges that Ankiel received HGH before 2005, which is when MLB officially, belatedly banned it, and that means it might have absolutely nothing to do with his current comeback. And you know what? That comeback is still remarkable, no matter what he might have taken. Nevertheless, once again I'm forced to remind myself that if a story seems too good to be true, that probably just means there's something going on that I don't know about.

To summarize:

• Athletes that are not abusing animals or drinking and driving are either using performance enhancing drugs, beating their wives, cheating on their taxes, or dumb as a sack of nails.

• Your elected representative is sleeping with either a hooker (Democrat) or underage male congressional page (Republican) while accepting thinly-disguised bribes.

• According to polls your significant other likely has cheated, is cheating, or will eventually cheat on you.

• Your dog only loves you because you feed it.

Have a great weekend!

Okay, okay. In other, less cynicism-inducing news (unless you're a fan of a small-market team, anyway), the Yankees won two of three from the Mariners and now lead the Wild Card by three games. That's not nothing, though whether it will be enough to survive a pitching rotation that includes two 21-year-old rookies and the remains of either an injured Roger Clemens or a free-falling Mike Mussina is still unclear. Personally, I think they're going to the playoffs; although a Yankee-hating friend of mine did paint a terrifyingly realistic portrait for me earlier today of a scenario in which they go through a 2-3 stretch, while Detroit wins five in a row, and are then eliminated from contention over the season's last three days by the Baltimore Orioles. Shudder.

Having swept the Braves over the past weekend, the Mets are in better shape, even though they did just blatantly doze through that last game against Cincinnati. They can afford to do that now, though -- all season the Mets' critics have said "oh, they think they can just turn it on whenever they have to"; but all season, the Mets have been able to turn it on whenever they had to. More power to 'em.

I feel bad about my earlier negativity and I'd like to leave this post on a more upbeat note, so please follow this link.

Or this one.

What Kind of Wine Has Tim McGraw Been Drinking?

I don't really have time now to talk about the Yanks game in detail, but there is no shortage of discussion going on elsewhere. I can't decide: was Joba Chamberlain throwing at Kevin Youkilis? I hope not, because it’s too dangerous at that height -- plunk the guy in the thigh if you really feel you must, but don’t risk missing up by his head, not when you throw that hard -- and, unless something happened during this game that's not public knowledge, it was pretty much unprovoked. (Yes, A-Rod got plunked Tuesday, but Clemens then hit Pedroia Wednesday, so that should be that.) It's very odd to totally lose control of two pitches in the same spot like that; at least, I can’t remember seeing it happen quite like that before.

On the other hand, Chamberlain’s demeanor suggested it was an accident -- he looked really confused and surprised and kind of awkward when he got tossed from the game, and in his interviews afterwards seemed genuinely worried that people would get the wrong idea. So, in sum: I have no idea what the hell happened there.

Either way, though, I can understand why the Sox were pissed, because even if it wasn't on purpose it was a bit too close for comfort. (I know, it wasn't that close, but if someone fired a 98 mph fastball eight inches or nine inches away from my head, I think it would feel pretty damn close to me).

Also, while I continue to be massively impressed by Chamberlain’s pitching, at least when he’s not trying to crush opponents’ skulls, I have to say I’m extremely disappointed in his choice of entrance music. “Indian Outlaw” by Tim McGraw? Seriously? Joba, you are way too cool for this nightmare of a song. Sample lyrics:

“All my friends call me Bear Claw
The village chieftain is my paw-paw
He gets his orders from my maw-maw
She makes him walk the line

You can find me in my wigwam
I'll be beatin' on my tom-tom
Pull out the pipe and smoke you some
Hey and pass it around

'Cause I'm an Indian outlaw
Half Cherokee and Choctaw
My baby she's a Chippewa
She's one of a kind

I ain't lookin' for trouble
We can ride my pony double
Make your little heart bubble
Lord, like a glass of wine...”

Cringe. And also: What?

For the love of god, somebody help this kid pick out a decent metal track.

***

UPDATE: great "Who, me?" photo of Chamberlain from the Daily News. You decide:

I Have Run Out of Synonyms For "Agonizing Loss"

Man... where to start with that Mets game? I can't remember the last time a team suffered four losses that agonizing one right after the other. I mean, certainly other losses have meant more -- the Mets still do have a two-game lead, even though it doesn't feel that way -- but these were just lost in such an insanely maddening fashion. First the blowout, then they let the Phillies tie game two on a grounder that should have rolled foul but didn't. The next day their dramatic comeback is aborted by an interference call. Then today, they battle back twice, from 5-0 and 8-5 deficits, and look like they're about to salvage some tiny positive feeling from the smoldering wreckage of this series... and instead their bullpen implodes again. Absolutely brutal. And now they have to go to Atlanta, and with the Phillies breathing down their necks, they actually need to win.

Having been rendered more or less speechless (which by the way is not easily managed, so congrats, Mets), I will only say, once again: at least it isn't boring.

If you're a Mets fan it may make you feel very slightly better to listen to this fan-written song about Endy Chavez, which is what the Mets were singing in the locker room the other day when he came off the DL. But only very slightly.

Ask Jobu to Come, Take Fear from Bats; Offer Him Cigar, Rum

Gut-punch of a loss for the Mets tonight. To have the game end on an interference call just as the team dramatically tied it up... good lord. I'm not entirely sure, but I think the ump was technically right to call out Marlon Anderson; going in hard and late is one thing, but actually shoving the fielder to the ground while you do it is another. Still, you hate to see any game end that way -- and it was especially painful since the Phillies probably wouldn't have turned the DP regardless. The Mets may have actually discovered a worse way to lose than having your pitcher balk in the winning run, which I wouldn't have believed was possible.

Between this and the game-tying dribbler that never rolled foul from Tuesday night, to say nothing of countless other incidents of terrible luck this series and the entire team's sudden inability to buy a run-scoring hit, it's beginning to look as if the Mets have done something to seriously piss off the baseball gods. Hopefully someone can find a white steer to burn as an offering of atonement before tomorrow's game. Or maybe they won't need much luck, because El Duque's starting... what I wouldn't give to see him toss an eephus to Pat Burrell.

Anyway, maybe it's an illusion, but it sure seems like all year the Mets have largely been good when the Yankees have been bad, and vice versa; I'm going to have to crunch the numbers at the end of the season. Regardless, last night the Yanks played a solid game behind Roger Clemens (with the notable and totally unsurprisingly exception of Kyle Farnsworth), and moved into a virtual tie with Seattle, who just got clobbered by the Angels. I listened to a bit of that game online today and kept forgetting that I was supposed to be rooting for LA, accidentally cheering for the Mariners instead... it's just horribly unnatural. Glad that's over.

And by the way, I can't tell you how thrilled I am that somebody recently found this blog by searching for "badass jesus blogspot." Fuckin' a.

Seasons Don't Fear the Reaper, Nor Do The Wind And Rain, We Can Be Like They Are...

Nice win for the Yankees -- Andy Pettitte is on top of his game, and the Legend of Joba grows. He will, at some point, allow a run, right? I need to brace myself. Even better... and I can't believe I'm about to type this... the Angels... won (GAAARGH!!! that almost killed me), beating Seattle, and so the Yankees are now just one game back from the Mariners, two in the loss column. I chalk up this good luck to the unheralded presence of one Tino Martinez in the stands; they need to keep him there through the Seattle series if at all possible.

After every single loss, Andy Pettitte blames himself entirely -- really excoriates himself, in fact, stopping just short of hitting his head repeatedly against the wall while muttering "stupid, stupid!" It's the Paul O'Neill school of self-motivation. Meanwhile, after every win he says two things: "the offense did a great job" and "Jorgie called a great game." Tonight he just kept repeating how glad he was the hitters could "pick him up" after he allowed a home run to Varitek that tied the score at three in the 7th, on his way to throwing 119 pitches. "I thought maybe I cost us the game," he said on the postgame show, immensely relieved, "... it just killed me to make that mistake." It's okay, Andy! Fans tend to love the relatively rare players who visibly care about winning much more than they themselves do, and very possibly more than is healthy. When O'Neill came up in a big spot you rooted for him to get a hit not so much so that the Yankees would win, but so that he wouldn't hate himself. On the Mets right now I think Pedro Martinez has that quality, and it'll be a boost for them to get that back, as well as his arm.

And speaking of the Mets, if you think I was happy to have Endy Chavez back, his teammates actually burst into song. Unfortunately it didn't help at game time. Ryan Howard home runs are going to happen, but still, the Met bullpen is just hair-raising right now. But for some reason -- even after tonight -- I still have more confidence in Pedro Feliciano in a big spot than Aaron Heilman. Possibly it's because Heilman's entrance music this year has been "Don't Fear the Reaper"... and with all due respect to Blue Oyster Cult, as far as songs that will psych up a home crowd go, this is a huge step down from last year's "London Calling." It's like a vegan version of "Enter Sandman."

Then again, perhaps it's just because I haven't seen Feliciano give up a playoff series-losing home run to Yadier Molina. Anyway, it also seems clear now that if Willie Randolph really must use Guillermo Mota*, he should by no means press his luck by extending him for two innings. Question: do they test for steroids during the playoffs? Maybe they could slip him a little something just before the Division Series starts?


*Whose entrance music remains the heinous "I Like To Move It"

You Make Me Happy When Skies Are Gray

--Endy Chavez is being activated today. Yay!

--Amazingly enough, people still haven't realized that everything you do online can be tracked and traced back to you. Look, if you work for ESPN or MLB and you start editing relevant Wikipedia pages, don't think people won't find out. "Sexual harassment charges? What sexual harassment charges?! Look, Wikipedia doesn't even mention them, clearly they must not exist!"

--Also, more on Antonio Alfonseca's fingers:

Alfonseca is adamant that the digits are more a sense of pride than a problem. It even cost him a chance to join the New York Yankees machine as a 16-year old. Upon meeting Alfonseca, Yankees scout Arturo Defreitas offered to have the extra finger removed by a doctor. Alfonseca's response: He ran away.

See, Mets fans ought to love this guy.

--Oh, and the Yankees are playing some team from Boston tonight...

It's not a fight for the Division anymore, but it's still do-or-die time for the Yanks... and I can't say I'm not looking forward to seeing Joba Chamberlain versus Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz. Yanks need to win tonight with Pettitte on the mound, since he's now their most reliable starter, juuust edging out Wang at the moment. And with Matsuzaka going for the Sox, it should be a good one -- anyone who pretends to have an imaginary pitch just to fuck with people's heads is my kind of pitcher. I'm only surprised El Duque never thought of this.

Too Bad He Didn't Take Better Care of His Body, Like That David Wells

So when I said I thought Mike Mussina would bounce back tonight somewhat... I, uh... well, I guess six runs in three innings is better than seven runs in 1.2 innings? Yikes.

That was an extremely painful game to watch, on a human level more than a sports fan level. Mussina's struggled before, but not like this; he's been one of the best pitchers of his generation, and this might be the end, and he's not ready for it. The post-game interview was just heartbreaking. "I don’t even know how to describe it because I’ve never had to deal with it before," he said. Watching him on the mound was awkward, almost embarrassing, like we should turn off the TV and give him some privacy. Give Mussina credit for sticking around to talk to reporters -- I would have been out of there like a shot, I'd imagine -- but he looked, and sounded, shattered. No confidence; none of his trademark snarkiness, even. Can an athlete really lose it that fast? From Tyler Kepner's NY Times story:

“Right now, I let go of it and I don’t feel like anything good is going to happen,” Mussina said. “It’s tough to pitch that way. You can’t play the game that way to feel like you have no control over anything, and that’s how I feel right now..."...

...The Yankees owe Mussina more than $11 million for next season, but he seems to be nearing the end. It is a scary and sudden reality, and it has knocked him as low as he has ever been.

“It feels like I’m never going to pitch well enough to get to the sixth or seventh inning again,” Mussina said. “That’s just how it feels right now.”

I have to believe that given time to make adjustments, Mussina can be, if not good again, at least mediocre --I don't care how old he is, I refuse to believe he's a less viable pitcher than Sir Sidney Ponson -- but unfortunately, time to make adjustments is exactly what the Yankees don't have.

In less agonizing news...

--Meant to mention this earlier, but Scott Proctor pitched against the Mets on Friday night, and not very well -- walk, hit, hit, balk... "It's possible he may have been somewhat overused," said Gary Cohen gingerly. It is indeed. However, I see Proctor has wasted no time in taking advantage of the Dodgers' more relaxed grooming rules and is already sporting a big off-putting tuft of chin-beard. So at least he's got that going for him.

Makes you wonder, how many Yankees would grow awful facial hair if only they could? You know Brian Bruney is just yearning for a goatee.

--In general, though I'd prefer them to stay right where they are in the NL East, I like the Phillies: Ryan Howard seems thoughtful and kind in interviews, Jimmy Rollins is funny*, Shane Victorino has a solid nickname in "The Flyin' Hawaiian," and Antonio Alfonseco has six fingers on each hand, which is awesome. Then there's that great clip of the whole team helping the Rockies' grounds crew with the tarp during a dangerously windy storm, which still makes me smile. But they do have one really glaring flaw in their likeability... and its name is Brett Myers. On the plus side, screaming violently at a reporter for no good reason is certainly a huge step up from smacking your wife around on a street in Boston. Baby steps!

Wait, THIS guy hit his wife? No way!

--Finally, Jim Dolan has donated to the Hilary Clinton campaign. Okay, that's it, I've finally made up my mind: I'm going with Obama.



*I still can't believe people got so worked up over his pre-season comment that the Phillies were going to be "the team to beat." What's the guy supposed to say? "I look forward to another year of frustrating near-misses"?

Baseball Player Name of the Week

... the Tigers' Jair Jurrjens, of course. Middle name: Francoise. He left the game in the second inning yesterday with shoulder pain, though; hope it's not as bad as it looked.


Runner up Names of the Week: Kansas City minor leaguers Thad Markray (anybody named Thad gets automatic consideration) and Russ Haltiwanger.

All's Wells That Ends Wells

I know he’s got a big mouth, I know he never really took care of his body and perhaps wasted a chunk of his considerable potential, and I remember his tendency, when with the Yankees, to unhesitatingly (and visibly) give up on games in which the starting temperature was over 85 degrees. Nevertheless, I’ve always loved watching David Wells pitch. His career is both cheerfully improbable and also a sort of implicit “fuck you” to all those people who insist you need to eat well, drink in moderation and go to bed early if you want to succeed in life. Okay, so he developed diabetes at 44 and is not exactly a role model... still, those people need a good "fuck you" once in a while. And pitching a perfect game while hung over -- or by his own account, actually still sort of drunk -- is a level of bad-assery not often seen in the Majors since the 70s.

Also, I have never seen a more accurate or concise observation about Bud Selig than the following from Wells:

“He worries about what people say about him and he Googles himself.“

You know he does.

You’ll recall that the Padres released Wells a couple weeks ago; tonight, pitching in his first game for the Dodgers, he looked surprisingly sharp. Obviously I was rooting for the Mets but I was happy to see Wells back in the saddle, too, and in my favorite moment of the game, he bunted for a hit. Fucking beautiful – well, not aesthetically, actually, but the idea of it. I’ve never seen David Wright look more surprised.


In other news, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but credit where credit’s due: Joe Morgan said something interesting on ESPN tonight. He mentioned that John Maine’s high fastball seems to be actually more effective, and more explosive, than his low fastball – even though the general rule of thumb is that pitchers should keep the ball down, down, down and will get hit hard if they don’t (see: Igawa, Kei). I think Morgan’s right; when Maine’s in a groove, which he was for a few innings tonight, I often wonder how he does it with the ball so high in the zone, but I hadn't fully articulated that thought til Morgan mentioned it tonight. He just seems to have more movement up there for some reason. Good call, Joe.

Now, leaving this odd parallel universe in which Joe Morgan uses his remarkable Hall of Fame career to actually make interesting observations and educate his viewers, I have to point out that tonight Morgan also referred to Sandy Alomar Jr. as Roberto Alomar, Marlon Anderson as Marlon Byrd, Shea Hillenbrand as Shawn, and pointed out that the Braves need bullpen help but cannot pick up reliever Bob Wickman… since they just designated him for assignment. Ah yes, now we’re back in Kansas.

The Mets head to Philly now, and I thought this would be a really big series when I looked at the schedule at the beginning of the season, and even a few weeks ago... but it's not, really, since the Mets have already opened up a six game lead in the NL East. That's not huge, but as long as they take even one from the Phillies here, they’ll still be in pretty good shape. Taking the series from the Braves probably isn't necessary either... but man, it would really help their fans' mental health.

By the way, to clarify: in the last post, when I said the Yankees’ season was really really close to being over, what I meant was not that they don’t have a decent shot at the playoffs – three games back from the Wild Card in the loss column, they’re still very much in it - but that they have an extremely small margin of error right now. They’re only two or three losses combined with Mariners wins away from being, while not mathematically out of it, a real longshot. So if Mussina is really done – though I do think he’ll bounce back tomorrow, at least somewhat – and/or if Clemens and Hughes continue to be uneven… the point is, they're now one bad, unlucky week away from being essentially done, so everything needs to go right from here on out.

Well, either that, or the Mariners need to start sucking. But I've been waiting for that to happen since June...

Quick, Kids, Head to eBay

First of all, to update the MLB-licensed, gang-colored/themed baseball hat story mentioned with disbelief in the previous post: the hats are, not surprisingly, being pulled from stores. (Thanks to Ben from RAB for the link). Also,

New Era said it would increase its efforts to ensure it had a better working knowledge of gang symbols, names and locations.

Yep: it's gonna be really interesting being a New Era intern this fall.


Second... I just finished watching the Yankees-Tigers game, which started at 11 PM and ended around 3:30 AM with a Carlos Guillen walk-off home run in the 11th inning. This puts the Yanks 6.5 games behind the Red Sox, who predictably destroyed the White Sox in a doubleheader -- and, more to the point, four games behind Seattle in the loss column for the Wild Card. This is their second heartbreaking extra-innings loss in the last week, both of them off of poor Sean Henn, who was teary after the Angels game and cannot be much happier tonight. And that was actually a pretty decent pitch he threw to Guillen, too, down and in, not that it matters much.

No, the Yankees' season is not over... but it is really, really close to being over.

Coming Soon to Stores Near You: Official MLB Shivs

-Okay, is this story for real? I have a hard time believing that even Major League Baseball could be that tone-deaf and stupid. But it seems that, yes, MLB is licensing New Era NY hats with overt, deliberate gang colors and symbols. Wow. Somebody's getting fired.

On the plus side, at least I know what my dad's getting for Christmas this year.



-The Mets' trade for Luis Castillo, quintessential overachieving-Twins-infielder, is looking better and better. He's a smart hitter (though I wish he'd bunt less often, especially since he's hitting in front of Wright and Beltran), and he and Reyes are turning into a great double play combo, complete with ridiculously enthused high fives afterwards. If you hooked those two up to a generator you could power half of Queens.


-Meanwhile, across town (or, technically, in Detroit), every time Joe Torre sneezes now he moves up a spot on some decades-old all-time managerial stat list. Seems like he's hugging Jeter, Posada and Rivera, recieving a game ball, tearing up, and talking about how special milestone X is roughly every other Wednesday. This is generally a warning sign that a long and storied career is drawing to a close, a la Bernie Williams last year.


-Trevor Hoffman, Mariano Rivera, and Billy Wagner have all faltered repeatedly over the last week or two... late August is not a good time for relievers.


-The Psycho Fan has a great note from the Angels' broadcast a few days ago. Apparently announcer Steve Physioc observed that Jeter is the best defensive shortstop in Yankees history -- manifestly untrue; he's certainly their best-ever offensive shortstop, but fielding-wise, I'm not sure if he's even in the top 10 -- including Phil Rizzuto. As evidence he offered the fact that Jeter is the only Yankee shortstop ever to win a Gold Glove. Now, this would not be a convincing argument even if Gold Gloves had been given out before 1957... which, as The Psycho Fan points out, they were not. Brilliant.

The Folly Floater

By the way, I never got to say anything about Phil Rizzuto. All the obits have already been written, so I'll skip the full send-off, but Rizzuto really had the right idea about broadcasting -- he obviously loved the game and cared about it, but never took it, or himself, too seriously. (Of course he was a great player too, but I never got to see that firsthand). And he was blatantly partisan, but so good-natured that no one could hold it against him. ESPN producers and on-air talent should be locked in a dark room and forced to watch his broadcasts for days at a time, although really, I suppose, he didn't have the kind of persona you can successfully imitate.

Anyway, Rizzuto's voice can be heard on this semi-famous YouTube clip of Steve Hamilton tossing his "folly floater" eephus pitch to the Indians' Tony Horton circa 1970. Beautiful; I don't think El Duque's ever gotten his that slow. Nice play by Thurman Munson, too, and priceless reaction from both dugouts, the crowd, and Horton himself... with, of course, a great call from Scooter.




[Update: Turns out Horton's professional career had a sad and early end. Too bad; I like his sense of humor.]

More later today on the local nines. That was quite a series the Mets and Padres just played... And that's quite a slider Joba Chamberlain's got. I could happily watch him just pitch to Vlad Guerrero for nine innings.

Baseball Player Name of the Week

From the Brevard County Manatees, recently defeated 4-3 by Pedro Martinez and the St. Lucie Mets:

Pitcher Josh Wahpepah.
















(photo from Brewerfan.net)


By the way, the Manatees are currently being terrorized by a "Pie Assassin" ("Millions live in fear!"):

Bystanders recoiled in fear that maybe it was a pie-terrorist attack. A threatening note found this morning stated that a new victim will be selected every home game for the remainder of the season, unless the alligator that slipped into the stadium this past week and led away in handcuffs is granted an unconditional pardon by the governor and given two seats for the playoff games...

..."It's just sick that you can't sit and watch a baseball game in peace without worrying about some crack-pot taking out his pie-ro-manical tendencies on us common folks," stated Manatees GM Buck Rogers. "We must catch this nut-job before he strikes again!" The voice of the Manatees, Kirk Aigus, was heard muttering on the air, "Oh, the Hugh Manatee!"

God I love minor league baseball.

Conine the Barbarian

I have a recap of last night's Yankee fiasco up at the Banter.

Over in MetsWorld... not all of Omar Minaya's moves have worked out, but I think it's safe to say the good has outweighed the bad by a solid margin. So I'm generally willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. But Jeff Conine? What, did they feel the team's median age was getting too low with the departure of Julio Franco?



To be fair, I guess they needed a right-handed bat and had limited options; add Damion Easley's ankle to the list of gruesome baseball injuries of recent years. I really, really didn't need to see that in Hi-Def.

In better news: Endy Chavez is coming! Hide your women and children!

Also: Johan Santana, in case you were wondering, is still mind-bogglingly awesome. Mets, Yankees, I don't care, I just want him in New York so I can see him pitch every fifth day. Whatever it takes -- trade Phil Hughes, or Phil Humber, or a kidney, or Derek Jeter's firstborn. Anything. Worth it.

Finally: it's a good thing the Yanks have some good young pitchers coming up, because according to Buster Olney the best free agent pitchers this offseason will be: Livan Hernandez, Jeff Weaver, and Curt Schilling. Um. The Mets need to cross their fingers that Pedro comes back healthy and Mike Pelfrey figures things out, or Humber advances fast; I can handle Livan Hernandez, but I have already seen too much of Schilling and Weaver for one lifetime.

Back in the New York Groove (Again)

View from Taipei 101, the tallest building in the world... for at least a few more months.

So, I'm back -- still a little fuzzy from jetlag, because that is seriously one hell of a plane ride, but back. Taipei's a really interesting place... and also: typhoons!

The two questions I was asked most often in Taiwan, neither of which I could satisfactorily answer:

1. Why did America re-elect George Bush?
2. Why is Kyle Farnsworth still on the Yankees?

Seeing as how I was sort of by default representing my country, I started to feel personally responsible.

Anyway, I'm now off to upstate NY for a day to retrieve my dog, but three quick notes to get my feet wet again:

-Joba!

-Random line from the Mets broadcast last night which I found inexplicably funny: "You can be patient with Chico." Anyway, nice bounce-back win for the Mets, after one of the most excruciating losses of the season Thursday night. Sweet defense, too, especially from Reyes and Castillo.

-It's Angels-vs.-Red Sox time again.

Hwahsi Night Market


Sinon Bulls vs. Brother Elephants at Tienmu Stadium

Smart money's on Bratwurst to place

Well, it's been a crazy month, and it's about to get even crazier, as I'm about to leave for the airport and the quick little 36-hour jaunt over to Taiwan. I'll be there for a week. But I couldn't go without first sharing the Miller Park Sausage Race love. The game I saw went 13 innings and, to the crowd's unfettered joy, included a second race after the 12th.

There is much to be said in praise of Brewers fans, but this in particular impressed me: at almost every sporting event I've been to in the last few years, fans react with more passion, cheering and general enthusiasm to the free t-shirts shot into the crowd than they do to almost anything that happens during the actual game. It was true at Madison Square Garden, it was true at Shea, and I don't kid myself that it wouldn't also be the case at Yankee Stadium, if they started the tradition. It was not true, however, at Miller Park: there, the crowd engaged more fully with the racing sausages -- hot dog, bratwurst, Polish sausage, chorizo, and Italian sausage -- than with anything else. Which is, I feel, exactly how it should be.


I should point out that these things, according to Wikipedia, have names, though they quite wisely don't advertise these at the ballpark: Frankie Furter, Brett Wurst, Stosh (I have a friend named Stosh and now will always associate him with a man in a large plush sausage outfit wearing sunglasses... I have mixed feelings about that), Cinqo, and... wait for it... Guido. Yes, they did.

Much has been happening:

-Alex Rodriguez nailed his much-anticipated 500th home run. Nice moment, though really, if he doesn't get to at least 600 it'll have to be because he lost a limb. However, I do find it slightly disturbing that he and Barry Bonds have such a supportive friendship. First they schmooze it up at the All-Star Game, now both of them go out of their way to praise the other in their post-milestone pressers today... I could have sworn I heard ominous strings in the background. I mean, I'm just not well-equipped to handle a world in which Jose Conseco is not full of shit.

-The Kansas City Royals continue to suck. Chien-Ming Wang continues to be awesome. Phil Hughes should be too, shortly, but wasn't quite today.

-The Pittsburgh Pirates are still run by a madman. As Jayson Stark writes,

For the next two hours, after people around baseball learned of this deal, they couldn't stop calling, e-mailing and texting reactions that could probably be summed up with three succinct words: WHAT THE BX!GRZFDQ!!!!!

-The Yankees are just 2 games out of the Wild Card lead.

-The Mets seem to have stabilized, and they'll try to take 2 of 3 from the Cubs today; over/under on the number of times the ESPN cameras cut to Lou Piniella looking grumpy after a cubs pitcher allows a hit or a walk: 23. Also, good luck to Tom Glavine as he goes for #300 a second time -- he got robbed by the bullpen in Milwaukee. One can only hope that Frankie Furter's 12th inning triumph was some consolation to him.

-Barry Bonds finally hit another home run tonight to blah blah blah. Does anybody still care? I took this photo just outside Miller Park:



Will there ever be a Barry Bonds statue in San Fran? It's hard to imagine, isn't it? For one thing, it would be an engineering challenge to get the head large enough, yet still keep the thing structurally sound... lawsuit just waiting to happen.

Okay, off to Taiwan. I believe I'll have internet access, in which case I'll be sure to post -- though I can't be sure, as all I really know about my hotel is that, per its official web page, it boasts "luxuriously decorated corridor poles." What more could anybody ask?

In any case: any Taiwanese fans reading this, who have any tips, advice, or the desire to watch a Yankees game this coming week in Taipei, please do drop me an email -- ekspan @ gmail.com.

Miller Time

Greetings from Milwaukee! Nice place from the little I've seen so far, but then, any city with a used book store in the airport automatically earns my respect. I'm about to head to the Mets-Brewers game, but first, some notes on the trading deadline:

-The Mets acquire Luis Castillo from the Twins for some prospects you probably haven't heard of. Good trade -- I like Castillo, one of the many Twins players who always seems to contribute more than you think he'd be able to. On the other hand, I think the Mets have 17 second basemen now.

-The Yankees send Everyday Scott Proctor to the Dodgers in exchange for Wilson Betemit. I feel for Proctor, who pitched all the damn time and never once publicly complained about it, and then, possibly as a direct result, lost his effectiveness. Fortunately, in Dodgers manager Grady Little, Proctor will have a manager who is not exactly known for going to his bullpen too often...

I don't see that Betemit helps them all that much this year, but I guess it can never hurt to have a better bat on the bench, all due respect to Miguel Cairo. I'm surprised, though, that the Yankees haven't moved Kyle Farnsworth. It's one thing to pitch badly; it's another to pitch badly while complaining about playing time and feuding with your catcher. Wheee.

-The Braves are significantly scarier now that they have Mark Texiera. The Mets would still have the better lineup if Delgado and Beltran were playing up to their potential, but since they're not... well, the Mets really need Glavine and El Duque to hold up, and Oliver Perez to stabilize. And Pedro to hurry up.

-Similarly, the Red Sox just made their bullpen even better with the addition of Eric Gagne. The Yankees weren't catching them anyway, frankly, barring massive injury to half the Boston pitching staff; but now they're really not catching them. It's all about the Wild Card, which is a shame, if only because rooting against the Indians, who are quite likable, is not nearly so fun as rooting against Boston.

-Someone better organized than me is finally starting a campaign to get the Mets to move the Home Run Apple to CitiField. I support this wholeheartedly. If the Mets are going to make their stadium move the right way, they've got to take the Apple with them -- yes, it looks like it was made out of papier-mache by a 4th grade class in the 70s, but that's the point. It's unique, and it has character, and to leave it behind or sell it to the highest bidder would be a shame, even (or especially) if it will be an incongruous fit at CitiField. Do you really want the Apple rotting away in some eccentric millionaire's back yard? No, and neither do the millionaire's neighbors, trust me. Just bring it already. Everybody wins.

More soon on Tom Glavine, Miller Park, and -- most of all -- the sausage race.

Mysteries of Pittsburgh

The Mets have had plenty of injuries this season, but not, I'd say, a truly abnormal amount. Still, has any other team had such random injuries? How does a young guy like Carlos Gomez fracture his hand on a checked swing, exactly? And now Jose Valentine has fractured his tibia by fouling a ball off his leg. It wasn't shattered a la Jermaine Dye -- that was one of the most gruesome baseball injuries I can recall watching live* -- but it probably ended his season.

Speaking of age, I was glad to see Julio Franco land on his feet, even if it is with the Braves, and even if both parties seem a bit grouchy about the breakup. A lot of Mets fans, by the time he was released, had started to resent his presence on the team a bit, and there's no denying he wasn't very useful this year, even as a pinch hitter. Still, let's never forget how cool it is that the man is about to turn 49 years old. Also, earlier this season he broke his own record to become the oldest man ever to hit a home run in the majors, and he did it off The Big Grumpy himself, Randy Johnson. So I will, pretty much, love him forever.

Last night Tom Glavine got win #299 (and A-Rod hit home run #499). These are impressive milestones -- Glavine's far more so -- but I hate the inevitable countdown superhype we'll now have to go through with every start or at-bat. And, yes, I have decided to completely ignore Barry Bonds in the hopes that he will eventually go away. I'm not watching his at-bats no matter how many times ESPN tries to make me. Part of me does hope it takes him weeks and weeks to get it, though... if only because it will be a sort of poetic justice for Bud Selig to be forced to traipse glumly around the country after him, however long it takes. Now will you admit you should have pushed harder and more publicly for testing back in the 90s?

Anyway, the Mets seem to be back in their groove, though it's hard to tell when they're playing the Pirates. Seriously, how bad are the Pirates? Ace pitcher Ian Snell's immediate family members are now calling the team losers. "I'm starting to break," says Snell in that article. Yikes! Okay, as soon as they get out of New York, I'm officially rooting for Pittsburgh. These guys need some wins in the worst way.

That said, they really are terrible. In one eighth-inning play against the Mets last night, the pitcher failed to cover a base, no one on the Pirates seemed to know where the ball was supposed to go, and somehow an errant throw by catcher Ryan Doumit hit Shawn Green in the head as he dove back into third. Honestly, I'm not even sure what happened there; it bore only a vague resemblance to baseball as we traditionally know it. As Keith Hernandez put it, sounding genuinely confused and slightly hurt, "the Pirates did so many things wrong on that play..."

Between them and the Reds, and the Yankees' stretch against Tampa, Toronto, and Kansas, I've watched an awful lot of bad baseball over the last few weeks. Good thing they can wrap up these series tomorrow and move on to... oh... uh, the Orioles and Nationals. Aaaargh!



*Up there with Nick Johnson's broken leg (especially sickening in person -- it was almost a year ago and he still isn't recovered enough to play), Brian Roberts' elbow (eeeeeew!), and probably worst of all, the Beltran/Cameron outfield collision, which is why as far as I'm concerned no one is ever, EVER allowed to get on Beltran for shying away from balls dropping just between him and his right fielder.

You know, it's funny... I always liked Bubba Crosby when he was with the Yanks, but when I see his name the first things I think of are him crashing into Sheffield in the outfield during the '05 playoffs, and Brian Roberts' horrifically mangled elbow. That's quite a legacy for an innocuous little fourth outfielder.

...And Randy Choate Is Why I Can Never Remember Where I Put My Keys

Phew -- it's been a while, so I won't try to get to everything that's happened in the last few days. In short, the Mets are still winning just enough to keep themselves in first place, while the Yankees are at a stage of their season where every win feels enormously hopeful and every loss is a dagger to the heart. They're 7 1/2 back from the Sox now, but to me, it won't really feel like a race til they cut that to 5. A few salient points from recent games:

-A month or so ago, I was watching a Mets/Yanks game at a bar on the Upper East Side (don't ask), when a pair of young guys next to me asked the bartender to switch a TV over to the Marlins/Tampa Bay game, and proceeded to cheer heartily for the Devil Rays. I was stunned; I had literally never in my life ever encountered a Tampa Bay fan before. It was like having a Yeti sidle up and order a Long Island Iced Tea. Naturally, I made inquiries, and there was actually a logical explanation: they were old high school friends of Devil Rays starting pitcher J.P. Howell. I mention this because Howell started yesterday's 17-5 Yankees win, and I thought of his friends and felt for him... though, to be fair, he only allowed 7 of those runs.

-Wil Nieves is always described as an extremely nice guy, and it's true -- he really is, at least as far as I could tell during spring training. Awfully friendly and genuine, considerate, always smiling. Nevertheless, everyone who ever mentions him brings this up so reliably when discussing his hitting that it's become a sort of "she's got a great personality." The Yankees finally made a trade, and Nieves will be designated for assignment as soon as the new guy shows up; I genuinely wish him good luck and success wherever he lands.

His replacement is one of the dreaded Molina Brothers, Jose, acquired from the much-loathed Angels for a AA pitcher. As I by now instinctively loathe all catching Molinas (Bengie absolutely destroyed the Yankees in the '05 ALDS, while &*%@ing Yadier is the reason I didn't get to cover a World Series this past fall), this will take some getting used to. But I'll try my best... hell, you can't choose your family, right?

-Speaking of which, I'm liking new Yank Shelley Duncan so far, even though he is immediately related to two Cardinals (son of pitching coach Dave and brother of awkward-fielding Chris). He's comically enthusiastic, with some serious power, and while I'm not sure how he'd fare as an every day player, he's got to be better than the hollow shell of Johnny Damon has been so far this year. Poor Damon; such a fun guy to watch when he's going well, and still good-natured even now. He's picked it up the last few days, but then again a tea kettle could have gotten a hit off this Devil Rays pitching staff.

Anyway, at one point the YES cameras showed Alex Rodriguez casually, almost absently explaining something to Duncan, who sat and listened with absolutely hilarious unblinking laser-like intensity. I've rarely seen a human being with their eyes open wider. Rookies are fun.

-Meanwhile, in the "old ineffective ex-Yankee relievers never die..." department: the latest sighting is one Jay Witasick, currently dragging a 9.53 ERA out of the Tampa bullpen. He only pitched half a season for the Yanks, and that was six years ago, so I'm sort of embarrassed that I remember him so clearly. I imagine it's this kind of thing clogging my brain that explains why I never remember to pay the cable bill on time.

I'll catch up with los Mets tomorrow...

Baseball Player Name of the Week (Bonus Edition)

Okay, so I use the word "week" loosely, but this one was just too good to sit on:

Cletus Elwood Poffenberger, also known as "Boots."

Mr. Poffenberger had a brief and rather unstoried pitching career with the Tigers and Dodgers in the late 1930s, though he does, according to Wikipedia, bear the distinction of once having been tagged out by Frank Crosetti using the hidden ball trick. He was suspended after only three games in Brooklyn for the vague "violating team training rules."

One fan recalls him as a "nonconformist," given to "holdouts and disappearing acts." "There are many Poffenberger stories," he adds, "with most related to his affinity for strong drink." Poffenberger played for the minor-league Nashville Vols in 1941, where he was suspended 90 days for throwing the ball at an umpire.

(This is the grave of a different Poffenberger -- our Boots lived til 1999 -- but all I could find via Google Image search. There's more of them out there than you think.)

As a postscript, I can't help noticing that the baseball-reference.com page for Bris Lord, mentioned in the last Name of the Week post, is sponsored by one "Lord Peaches Von Wolfenstein."

I love the internet.

That Still Doesn't Explain What's Wrong With "The Cream"...

... and there's a really inappropriate joke in there somewhere.

I don’t really have much to add to all that’s already been said and written on the Sheffield/Torre contretemps. Buster Olney sums it up for those of you with ESPN Insider. In short, looking back over Torre’s whole career, there seems to be little evidence to back up Sheffield's remarks. And as you'll no doubt have heard by now, Sheffield mentioned that Jeter had tried to defend Torre to him, but that's not relevant because Jeter "ain't all the way black." Nice. I have no trouble believing Torre plays favorites – and that Sheffield was not one of those favorites, which may be what he’s responding to -- but that's hardly the same thing.

From that same interview, another quote from Sheff, on why he’d never, ever take steroids:

"The bottom line is, steroids is something you stick in your butt - period."

So… I guess homophobia is good for something after all?

In other news:

--Anthony Rieber has a new Ask Anthony mailbag up on Newsday.com. You know, it's not nice to make fun of a 76-year-old woman... but it is, sometimes, called for.

--Speaking of Derek Jeter, on a lighter note (and via Gothamist), I’m just going to quote this entire item from the gossip pages of the Daily News:

“Derek Jeter had to step up his game over the All-Star break in San Francisco.

The Yankees captain seemed a little nonplussed that his pal Barry Bonds was more of a hit with the ladies at the 40/40 Club All Star Celebration. Bonds, who hosted the event, was besieged by female fans wanting photos and autographs.

"If this party was in New York, all the girls would be on my s—," Jeter wryly observed in front of a Gatecrasher pal.

Not to be outdone, our boy was spotted later chatting up two women and leaving the party with an attractive blond.”

Ah, homefield advantage.

Now, I’ve never been a Jeter groupie. Love watching the man play, but never had the big crush, even as an impressionable adolescent. And I admit that his club-hopping, starlet-a-night routine is finally starting to wear on me – not that I’d ever argue against a rich and famous athlete getting his god-given share of tail, but really, it has been twelve years now, and if he has other interests, he keeps them well hidden.

However, with that said: how on earth could any sentient straight woman not pick him over BARRY BONDS? Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I don’t like to assist a guy with his cattle hormone injections on a first date. Certainly not without a really nice dinner first.

--On Saturday the Tampa Bay Devil Rays enjoyed a sellout crowd, according to the YES announcers. “Good for them,” I thought, until I heard the rest: it was only the sixth in their entire history.

--The Yankees are now one game over .500. I will skip the sarcastic celebratory remarks this time, but it is perhaps worth pointing out that they’re now just a win or two away from being on pace to match the final record of last year’s World Series Champions.

I dislike the Cardinals more and more with every passing day.

This is Rickey Calling on Behalf of Rickey

The Rickey Henderson experience is underway. As one skeptical fan at Friday night's Mets-Reds debacle told me, "Ricky never knew how many outs there were when he was playing. How's he going to coach first base?" But I wouldn't worry about that... I mean, the runner can probably tell him, right? Remember:

"Rickey's gonna be Rickey. Period. No matter what I'm going to do or play or come here early, I'm gonna be Rickey. Rickey is not going to change and not be himself. I've been in this world too long to try to change Rickey and what he does . . . My mother don't even try to change me. She raised me, but she ain't gonna change me.

Ricky was being Ricky long before Manny was being Manny -- and he did it largely in the third person, too.

On the plus side: it was Endy Chavez Bobblehead Night. Those babies are currently retailing for $30+ on eBay, but personally, I think any fan selling their Endy Chavez bobblehead is just begging for lousy karma. It's too bad Chavez couldn't be there in non-bobblehead form; he's still rehabbing that hamstring, and while L Millz has done very well so far in the lineup... it doesn't make up for the lack of Endy.

The Mets took three of four from the Reds, which they needed to do against arguably the worst team in the National League. The Reds' roster is full of players I didn't realize were still in baseball: I could have sworn, for example, that Jeff Conine had retired several years ago. And poor Mike Stanton, onetime savior of the Yankees' pitching staff, staggered out of the pen and pitched terribly throughout the series; I had no idea he was still going.

It's hard to forgive superstars when they play too long, but I can't really hold it against middle relievers; they never get, or didn't until very recently anyway, the $15 million deal to last them through the rest of their days. And for a while there, Stanton was really very good: the Yanks are still struggling to find bullpen help as reliable as he and the eternally irritable, creepily-mustached Jeff Nelson were in their primes.

Tomorrow: the Yankees. Race relations! Groupies! The Devil Rays! You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll curse the day Kyle Farnsworth was born.

I leave you with one more Rickey anecdote, also from that Newsday story:

-- And, one final story I came across was a bizarre shouting match Rickey had with none other than El Duque during a spring training game in 2002. It wasn't clear what exactly bothered El Duque. He began yelling and they eventually had to be held back. "He needs to grow up a little bit," Rickey said. "I ain't a kid. When I broke into the game, he was crawling on his hands and knees. Unless he's as old as I am. He probably is."

Well, yes, probably. Interesting, though probably no big deal; Rickey also said, on a different occasion, and by way of explaining why he often didn't know all of his teammates' names, "I never get that close to pitchers."

Baseball Player Name of the Week

Via an astute commenter: Baron Frost, of the Auburn Doubledays, a minor league affiliate of the Blue Jays.



It's no Bris Lord ("The Human Eyeball"), a player brought to my attention by commenter JL25and3 on the Banter and with whom I am now obsessed, but it's pretty good. Though, really, if Auburn Doubleday were a person, that wouldn't be a bad choice for Name of the Week either. Reminds me of one of my all-time favorite ideas for a blog post ever, from The Winged Elephant: "Wodehouse Character or Baseball Player?"

I am proud to report that I aced their quiz -- as well I should, since I have spent an inordinate amount of time in my life on both P.G. Wodehouse and, as you have probably noticed by now, baseball names. Personally I think the moniker that fits most seamlessly into both categories is Snuffy Stirnwiess.

Runner up: Stiffy Byng.

There IS a God...

... and He loves bloggers.

More on this in the days to come. So, so much more.

Last Year At Marienbad

Just as I was getting ready to unload on another dull and dreary All-Star Game... it actually went and got interesting on us! While noting that, as always, the FOX coverage was still intensely terrible, the game itself had a number of highlights:

-Ichiro's inside-the-park home run. Who doesn't love inside the inside-the-park home runs? While less surprising than Prince Fielder's earlier this year, and less dramatic that Jose Reyes' last season (with the totally unnecessary headfirst slide/flop), it was still a kick. As a bonus, Ichiro's hit drove in "Ol' Butterfly-Head, Brian Roberts".

Question: who was the last Yankee to hit an inside-the-park home run? I can't remember, and it's proving tougher to research online than I thought; this is driving me nuts. Oh Google, why have you forsaken me? I did, however, discover that Wahoo Sam Crawford holds the all-time record for inside-the-park home runs, with... wait for it... 51. It was a different game back then, but that's still basically inconceivable.

-The New York teams represented fairly well: Reyes was 3-for-4, but Billy Wagner canceled him out by giving up the decisive two-run homer to Victor Martinez. Everyone else (Beltran, Wright, A-Rod and Jeter) went 1-for-3.

-It was very weird seeing Jorge Posada catch Sox closer Jonathan Papelbon. What, Jorge couldn't have maybe drawn that inning out a bit, gotten him to throw a few more high-stress pitches? I swear, it's like he's not even trying sometimes. Meanwhile, what's the over/under on one or both of Posada's knees blowing out from overuse? I say August 15.

-I have never cared much for Tony La Russa as a manager, and he didn't grow on me during the playoffs last fall. So I was torn: since the Yankees seem unlikely to benefit from homefield advantage in the World Series this year, why not let the NL win one, right? It might yet come in handy for the Mets. On the other hand, I couldn't root for La Russa over Jim Leyland, who is light years awesomer -- and on that front, the game went better than I could have hoped. As you probably know by now, La Russa left Aaron Rowand in to bat with two outs and the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth, down by one run... with Albert Pujols on the bench.

Now, Rowand's a good hitter and all, but Pujols, off year or not, is one of the two or three best in the game. La Russa insisted that he needed him on the bench in case of extra innings, which is the same sort of logic Joe Torre has used too many times this season to explain leaving Mariano Rivera in the bullpen while poor overworked Scott Proctor blew the lead. Torre, however, has interpersonal skills coming out of his ears, and would no doubt have handled this a whole lot better:

"It's the All-Star Game. He can do what he wants," Pujols said Tuesday night. "He does whatever he wants. If I wasn't expecting to play, I wouldn't have come up here."

Pujols, the NL MVP in 2005 and key to the Cardinals' win in the World Series last year, said La Russa didn't talk to him the entire game. ...

..."If he wants to get upset, he can get upset," La Russa said. "Whatever he wants to do, he can do. It's America. That wasn't the most important thing tonight."

It is, indeed, America. Everyone can do what he wants. No doubt when the founding fathers drafted the first amendment, they had a scenario much like this one in mind.

Other items of note on this slow sports news day:

-The Yankees are, per ESPN, talking to A-Rod about a contract extension. All well and good... except they'll negotiate with him during the season, but not lifelong Yankees Mariano Rivera and Jorge Posada? I can't imagine that's going to go over very well.

-Bruuuuuuce!

-And hey -- I almost forgot my own anniversary. Eephus Pitch turned 1 year old today; my first-ever post was on the 2006 All-Star Game (don't ask me what happened with the font there. I have no idea). At the time, I was summarizing Z-grade DVDs for a living; since then I've covered the Mets and Yankees in the playoffs for the Village Voice, as well as the Knicks, the Rangers, the Jets and Giants (definitely not doing that again), Cooperstown, and Spring Training, to say nothing of indoor lacrosse. I've been fired. And I got a book deal. And a dog.


So, in short: thanks for reading, everybody.

And to the hundreds and hundreds of people over the last twelve months who, quite understandably, came here looking for information on how to throw an eephus, and left confused and disappointed... sorry about that.

Who's More 'Now': Bud Selig or Kenesaw Mountain Landis?

I can't believe I'm saying this so soon after sitting through the Home Run Derby (Back-back-back-back-[MUTE]!), but for once I'm actually on ESPN's side, as MLB reveals itself once again to be a lumbering, self-destructive dinosaur:

ESPN won't be able to allowed to broadcast its "Baseball Tonight" show live from the All-Star game in San Francisco on Tuesday night.

Major League Baseball limited ESPN's access this week after the cable network broke an embargo and announced the All-Star rosters before the end of a selection show on TBS.

You just can't do this anymore. If you broadcast something on national TV, it becomes common knowledge. It's going to be all over the internet within seconds, and then how can you really ask news programs -- though I use this term loosely with regards to ESPN -- not to cover it? They'll be scooped by a thousand websites. The fact that we're talking about All-Star Game selections here, as opposed to actual important news that people care about, means this particular instance is probably not ideal material for a first amendment-based lawsuit. But MLB is being painfully clueless here. And also here... god help us all.

Of course, this is also an example of how ESPN's business interests will never allow it to be a true news entity. Remember when the network aired Bonds on Bonds... while simultaneously pretending to neutrally cover Barry's home run chase? Or when they stopped airing hockey and basically never mentioned the NHL ever again? I understand the economic necessity behind it, I just wish they'd be more honest about it: ESPN is far too financially involved with the sports it covers to maintain any sort of impartiality. Just look what happens when it tries: They kept John Kruk and Steve Phillips out of the All-Star Game! You bastards!

Meanwhile, SportsCenter just ran the abomination that is the "Who's Now?" segment. "Who's more 'now': Alex Rodriguez or Terrell Owens?" I'm sorry, who's more... I... you just... okay, you know what? Forget I said anything: MLB and ESPN deserve each other.

In other, non-bitter-rant news:

- Check out "Ol' Butterfly-Head, Brian Roberts." Awesome. Quote of the day: "I can't imagine he knows he's got a butterfly on his head." Runner-up quote of the day: "Kinda speaks to the fact that there’s not a lot going on when the Rangers are up at bat here." Thank you, Uni Watch.

- Unfortunately for Met fans, you can't really hate the Phillies after this.



Check out this clip of the entire team running out of the dugout to help the Colorado grounds crew wrestle the tarp onto the field during a viciously windy rainstorm. And check it out quick, before MLB has it removed from YouTube, because Bud Selig grew up in the Cretaceous. Really nice moment... although, uh, where the hell were the Rockies? It's just LaTroy Hawkins out there by himself. Even a couple of umpires joined in, forcing me to question my long-held assumption that they are all demonic spawn sent to this earth to torment the honest, hardworking baseball fans in the Stadium bleachers.

I Know Why The Caged Splitter Misses the Outside Corner

I was at the Stadium on Saturday for Old-Timers' Day and a painful, beautifully pitched, horribly defended thirteen inning loss to the Angels. God, I hate the goddamn Angels. Friday night was a wild, ugly win and Sunday's game was a satisfying rout, but because it's the Halos, that middle game lingers. The Yanks couldn't score -- looking back, I'm amazed they managed even the one run -- and made five errors, which makes it all the more remarkable that they kept the Angels to a tie for so long. But the Yankee pitching was just that good, especially Roger Clemens, who went 8 innings for the second start in a row.

It may very well happen one day, but I can't imagine Clemens ever pitching in the Old Timers' Game. The Game's pleasant enough on one level, but as an exercise in pure unadulterated nostalgia -- it's not for charity, there's no genuine competition or high level of play -- it's also melancholy. This is something I plan to write more about later, probably in the book (never too soon to start the hard sell!). But in any case I can't see Clemens, the pure competitor, the guy who backed his own son off the plate with a pitch towards the chin, suiting up in fifteen years, the uniform highlighting his potbelly, priding himself on still throwing 78. A refresher:

And that competitive fire never left — as discovered by Koby, who had the audacity to hit a home run off Dad in batting practice two weeks ago in Florida. He got the vintage Clemens brushback pitch the next time up.

"I figured I'd get strike one on the kid with a fastball, 92, 93 mph, and he runs into it," Clemens says. "So, of course, I was a little pissed. I said, 'OK, if that's the way it's going to be.' So next time up, I went in on him."

Says umpiring supervisor Steve Palermo: "When I umped, we used to always joke that Roger was so competitive that he'd knock down his own mom. Well, we now know that he'll at least knock down a family member."

Then again, Paul O'Neill was there Saturday -- another guy you don't want to picture taking a feeble cut at age 65. Fortunately it hasn't come to that, as O'Neill's just 44 and, to the naked eye, almost completely unchanged; in fact he's probably moving better than Damon these days. I was immensely relieved, when he stroked a single in his first at-bat, that he hadn't embarrassed himself.

There's nothing wrong with the Old Timers' Game, exactly -- the players want to be there, the fans pay to see it, it's all in good fun. And occasionally, as with Bobby Murcer's dignified, emotional presence, it provides some powerful moments. It's always great to hear the applause for Reggie (still hotdogging) and Mattingly, and the more respectful reception given to Yogi Berra and Whitey Ford, who still looks sharp as hell -- my all-time favorite Yankee-I-never-got-to-see-play. This year, of course, Scott Brosius and O'Neill got a lot of love, and it warmed my cold, blackened little heart. But there's still something painful just under the surface. He tossed it off casually in a pre-game interview, but I thought O'Neill had the most revealing quote of the day: "Let's face it, when you get out on this field it brings back a lot of memories," he said. "And that's what you've got left."

***

On a lighter note, I came across this tidbit while looking at that Koby Clemens link:

"I was just trying to pick a good time to do it. Weekend or weekday?" says Clemens, who keeps a journal that he plans to turn into an autobiography.

Oh man, what's Clemens' journal like? "7/7: Guerrero got three hits today - great, now have to pitch next year too, and K him. Or Plan B: kill with shattered bat fragment. After game, rented Rambo II with Andy, even better on 14th viewing. What you choose to call Hell... Mr. Splitty calls home."

More tomorrow on the Mets' schizo series against Houston, and Carlos Beltran's catch of the year. And hey, it's the All-Star break! A time for contemplation, reflection, wondering how it all went so terribly wrong... much like Yom Kippur really, only instead of being forgiven for your sins, you have to listen to Chris Berman call the Home Run Derby.

In the Stirring Words of Crazy Legs Conti: Eat All You Can, America

I spent yesterday the way every patriotic American should, at the Nathan's Hot-Dog Eating Contest on Coney Island, for the second straight year and almost certainly not the last. But I didn't realize that 30,000-plus of my fellow Americans were there with me, bearing witness to Joey Chestnut's stirring victory over Takeru Kobayashi. Yep, Major League Eating is taking off: the NHL better watch its back. To be honest, I was sort of rooting for Kobayashi -- but Chestnut took it fair and square, an awesome performance: he shattered the previous Nathan's record by more than 11 dogs, and his own World Record by seven, while Kobayashi himself beat it by four. It was like McGwire and Sosa '98.

The Yanks lost yesterday to Johan Santana, which... I mean, of course they did. As for the Mets, I got home from the barbecue around 10:30 to find the score at 15-5 Rockies, and announcers Keith Hernandez and Gary Cohen engaged in an in-depth discussion about how their dogs are afraid of thunder.

But things are looking up: the Yankees got a nice win today, which I recapped for the Banter. And the Mets recovered from their three-game debacle in Colorado with a win over Houston behind snubbed non-All Star John Maine. Maine struck out the first three batters he faced (eventually setting a career high with 9), and the third, Lance Berkman, was so crossed up that his bat flew backwards and nearly killed Carlos Lee, who was flipped Lasorda-like onto his back. I was really, really glad Lee wasn't hurt... because I'd already started laughing, and that would've made me feel just awful. Anyway, I think it's safe to say Maine announced his presence with authority.

How's this for bad luck, though: Carlos Gomez fractured a bone in his hand on a checked swing last night, and will miss six to eight weeks. "Mets outfielder" now ranks just above "Spinal Tap drummer" on the job longevity scale. Would it violate MLB's uniform regulations to have Carlos Beltran play in bubble wrap?

B.Y.O. Deca-Durabolin

Well, that's just fantastic. The lesson, as always: never, ever say that things can't get any worse.

The Yankees actually got a nice win yesterday, Roger Clemens' 350th. He's the first pitcher to get that many Ws since Joe Torre caught Warren Spahn in 1963, and only the second since the Great Depression. Now, I'm generally the first to argue that wins are a totally meaningless statistic: you can allow 1 run and lose, or 11 runs and win; it's utterly team-dependent, and tells you very little about a pitcher's actual performance, etc, etc, and so forth. But, that said: if you've got 350 of them, you've done something right. It was old-school Clemens last night -- he went 8 innings and allowed just 2 hits.

But that's all overshadowed by A-Rod's hamstring. Jesus: enough with the fucking hamstrings already! Don't these people ever stretch?! The truth is, the Yankees probably weren't going anywhere anyway. But that's all the more reason to have A-Rod around, because watching him put up his incomprehensible numbers has been one of the few enjoyable things about this season.

In other news: like the Yankees, the Mets rolled into Coors field ready for some offensive fireworks and instead barely scraped out two runs, while Tom Glavine gave up six runs in the third inning. Luckily, the Braves and the Phillies still suck.

Finally, Peter Gammons' ESPN blog post yesterday was, essentially, one long ad for the iPhone: almost the entire entry is about how cool the technology is and how many MLB players wanted to get one as soon as possible. Now, while I would absolutely not for a second put it past ESPN to take money for an endorsement disguised as a column... Peter Gammons wouldn't do that, would he? He's not one of my favorite columnists, but he's still an enormously respected sports writer, and he was one of the greats back in the day. So it must have been just a somewhat misguided story idea born on a slow news day... right? Man, I hope so. Haven't we all been disillusioned enough already?

One interesting thing in there amidst all the masses of product placement:

Verlander also knew he didn't have to go to the AT&T/Cingular store to activate his toy. No, simple. "All you have to do is download iTunes into the phone," said Verlander. Before he went to warm up Friday, he could listen to Timbaland (actually, he might want to to listen to a little Jay-Z to get ready for the All-Star Game party he and Barry Bonds are throwing), call friends, check the weather and go online...

Screw the iPhone. Justin Verlander and Barry Bonds are throwing a party? What a random duo, and who wants Barry Bonds at their party, anyway? "I know... let's invite the old humorless guy with 'roid rage!"

Pat Neshek For New York State Comptroller

This is my least favorite aspect of the Post: not that they're a seedy, unethical, and bottom-dwelling rag -- I like that about them -- but their tendency to suddenly feign moral outrage when convenient. I guess if you're A-Rod's wife, that's not a shirt you wear if you don't want attention; but give me a break, the entire Yankee Stadium crowd chants "ASSHOLE" several times a game. And what about all the little kids that had to look at this Post cover?

(Credit where credit's due: I did enjoy the "Pett Cemetery" headline on the back page).

News and notes:

-Three Yanks (Jeter, A-Rod, Posada, duh) and four Mets (Reyes, Wright, Beltran, Wagner) are going to the All-Star Game. I'd argue that John Maine should be pitching for the NL too, but that's probably the only New York snub, and I can't get too worked up about it.

-The Yanks have gotten so bad that bored fans have started doing the wave at the Stadium. Okay, you know what? That's it. Last straw. Fire Torre.

-Paul Lo Duca is not speaking to the media. Now who are reporters going to talk to when El Duque pitches -- the one player on the Mets who will, in fact, often pretend not to speak English when he doesn't feel like talking? Oh, the irony. It's like rain on your wedding day...

-Jorge Sosa hurt his hamstring Saturday, and what the hell is it with all these athletes in top physical condition blowing out hamstrings running the 90 feet to first base? Why hasn't anyone figured out a way to prevent this yet? Anyway, this means it's Mike Pelfrey time -- and with Oliver Perez's back acting up, say hello to Jason Vargas, tomorrow night's starter. Hmm, could be a rocky week or two for the Mets.

-Vote Neshek for the last AL All-Star spot. I was going to anyway, frankly, because I love his weird-ass delivery ("a stork being violently tickled, but with much better control" is how I described it on the Banter once). But then you've gotta enjoy any player who doesn't just say something along the lines of, oh, it's an honor to be a finalist, I respect whatever choice the fans make, etc. No, Neshek went on his blog and wrote:

"WOW, how cool is getting nominated. I don't know what to say it's unreal to even think about. But man I need you guys to vote, vote and vote... it's unlimited voting... tell everyone you know and come together and get creative we have like 5 days or something! We need everyone, all Minnesotan's, all graphers, fans of baseball and yes everyone in Yankee Nation (and we know why!) I seriously would like to promise everyone All Star balls or jerseys for voting but it might be a stretch...I will promise this, if you guys can get me in I will write about everything that goes on... multiple updates each day letting everyone know what the heck goes on behind closed doors... I don't know what else to say it would be the greatest feeling in the world to be voted in by you guys. Please tell everyone to vote multiple times:) "

He's also had t-shirts made up. Okay, okay! You have my multiple votes, Pat.

Baseball Player Name of the Week

Elvys Quezada, currently a reliever for the Tampa Yankees.

Well, that's the problem with this ballclub right there. How do you leave a beautiful name like that rotting in the minors?! Free Elvys Quezada!

(photo from scout.com)

And while we're at it, let's get Damon Sublett, Seth Fortenberry, and Ryan Zink up here too. What the hell, right? They could hardly make the team worse; might as well give Bob Sheppard something fun to say.

It Was Always Burning, Since The World's Been Turning

I'm not a scout or anything. I never played the game myself. But I'm pretty sure that when relief pitchers start burning their equipment in front of the Yankee Stadium dugout, it's a sign that the season might not be going as well as one would have hoped.

Bryan Hoch has the scoop at his mlb.com Yankee blog:

"After the clubhouse was closed to reporters, Proctor emerged from the Yankees dugout dressed in shorts and a gray t-shirt, lugging articles of his equipment down the tunnel and torching them in a smoky blaze. Proctor stood at the top step of the dugout watching the fire for about five minutes before dousing it with a large water jug, sending a plume of black smoke headed up to the press box."

And here Kyle Farnsworth thought he was a badass with his bat-smashing and glove-throwing... please. Of course, you have to wonder if maybe Scott Proctor wouldn't be pitching so poorly had Joe Torre not used him in literally 123 of the last 239 Yankee games.

Proctor may be emerging as the first Yankee since Paul O'Neill who forces you to simultaneously appreciate and be alarmed by just how much he cares: Don't root for him to get the next batter out because of the score; root for him to get the next batter out so he doesn't have a complete breakdown on national television.

I'd say the ante has been upped considerably for the rest of the team; smashing a water cooler is hardly going to make an impression anymore. "Tuesday night on the YES network: will the Yankee bats heat up against Minnesota? Or will Jorge Posada be forced to strangle an adorable puppy on the field with his bare hands? Don't forget to tune into Yankees Batting Practice Today an hour before the game for complete analysis and exclusive interviews!"