Bob Gibson of the Cardinals pitching to Billy Crystal. Now that would have been entertaining.

Paul Maholm versus Crystal. Six polite pitches and a strikeout. Not so much.

I suspect Bob Gibson would have put Crystal in the dirt on his first pitch and then showed heat three times on the corner. At least during the exhibition season.

In a regular season game he might have just drilled him. I like to think so anyway.

Does this make me a terrible human being?

Baseball is serious business. A man could be killed in such employment. One was. Ray Chapman of the Cleveland Indians on August 16, 1920 was struck and killed by a pitch from Carl Mays of the New York Yankees.

Chapman was a 29 year old with the reflexes of his age. Billy Crystal is a sixty year old man known for his shtick work and not his stick work (actually this whole blog entry was written just so I could say that).

Let's say Maholm landed wrong, missed his release point and got up and in on Crystal. Could the comic have gotten out of the way in time against even a mid-80's fastball? It would be "When Harry Met Rawlings" with no Meg Ryan and no happy ending.

Which begs the question, where on earth did Meg Ryan get off to?

There are two schools of thought about Meg Ryan. The one I adhere to says she used to be the epitome of the girl next door type. Pretty, but not devastatingly so. Beauty with training wheels. Approachable, or at least giving the illusion of approachability.

Then again a friend of mine held to what we refer to as the Realist School. Took one look and pronounced with authority (being possessed of certainty on all subjects) "Meg Ryan is high maintenance." He's probably right. In the game of celebrity Meg Ryan is a free agent pitcher you paid $42 million over four who stays on the disabled list. But looks great the whole time.

Actually, now that I think about it, Meg Ryan's disappearance has a logical explanation. She worked with Tom Hanks. Twice. Everybody knows working with Hanks is the kiss of death for an actor. Name me one actor he's worked with who ever had any sort of career after that.

I'm waiting.

What were we talking about?

Ah, baseball. You see, this is the problem. In March you try to write about baseball and halfway through your thoughts turn to Meg Ryan and you're back in the dugout after dangling a few too many high hanging participles. Mid-season baseball blogging form is far away.

March is baseball's silly season. When the Yankees and Rays get in shoving matches over minor league catchers being taken out at the plate.

And Billy Crystal, who should have been thrown at on general principle, leads off at DH.

And Meg Ryan, who should have been there to watch and lend moral support, wasn't.

And bloggers can't find the plate.

With April closing in.

"I love being the highest-paid player in the game. It's pretty cool. I like making that money," he said. "You get crushed, but you know what? It's pretty cool I enjoy it."-Alex Rodriquez

OK, I'll give you that one.

But does greed outweigh performance?  Does an obnoxious agent negate fifty plus home runs a season?  Do we reserve admiration for a player's skills if we know we wouldn't want him marrying into our family?  How do we separate the music from the noise?

When Scott Boras leaked that Alex Rodriquez was opting out of his Yankee contract, on the same day the RedSox won the World Series, you would have thought he rolled an orphan in front of a bus.

Bud Selig was "appalled at the lack of respect shown the game by the selfish and self-centered announcement of Scott Boras last evening."  Writers and broadcasters shed rhetorical tears that poor little Dustin Pedroia had been robbed of his fifteen minutes of fame.  Even Boras eventually got around to an apology.

Spare me.

Baseball only recently banned doing business during the World Series.  For most of the last 100 years players were traded, managers fired and hired, and rumors flew as GM's used their week together to wheel and deal.  Somehow we noticed Don Larson's no hitter.  Somehow Carlton Fisk's homerun got reported.  Somehow Reggie Jackson's three home runs were noticed.

Alex Rodriquez and Scott Boras took nothing away from what was a lackluster series.  And here's a newsflash.  It is 2007, and November at that, and most sportswriters are more interested in AP polls and the Patriots than baseball.  The RedSox story was big news in Boston and a big yawn most everywhere else.  Message to the Commissioner-any publicity is good publicity.

Major League Baseball has diluted it's premier event and prolonged the season beyond interest and reason.  Bud Selig doesn't notice such things, but he does keep track of Scott Boras.  Or more importantly, the money Boras gets for his clients.

The rest of us take note of ARod's greed, his fondness for strip clubs, his arrogance.  But first and foremost we notice (or should), 10 straight 100 RBI seasons.  A .306 lifetime average.  A monster line for 2007 reading 54-156-.314.  There is a story in those numbers.  A story more historic, and more interesting, than whether ARod gets 30 million a year.  Which he won't.

Babe Ruth made more money than the President of the United States.  "I had a better year than he did", Ruth famously quipped.  Mickey Mantle was a womanizer.  Gil Hodges didn't hit in October.  But we don't remember Ruth's salary today, don't care that Mantle enjoyed the nightlife, or put a bad World Series at the top of Hodges' biography.  So why do we ride those same dead horses so hard when it comes to Alex Rodriquez?

What Boras is about to pull off is hardly news.  He will set an outrageous price for teams to get into the bidding, imply that teams who haven't shown interest in ARod have made contact, leak bids that haven't been made, and maybe even throw in the old line about it being "not about the money" for a laugh.  Toward the end there will be one mark that is getting strung along to run up the bids, and one bidding against itself and not knowing it.  And Rodriquez will sign for $200 million or so over seven years with an option.

Why do we care?  ARod is greedy.  Who isn't?  Boras is a manipulative liar?  I'm shocked.  Baseball owners have sawdust for brains?  Already got that newsflash.  Fans grumble then pay higher ticket costs?  Somehow I figured that one out on my own.

I want to know where the best player in baseball is going.  I want to know how he impacts his new team's lineup.  I want to know how the Yankees replace an irreplaceable part of their lineup.  If they really don't intend to bring him back, which is debatable.  Somehow I think Rodriquez ends up back in the Bronx, because the Steinbashers may be the only team who can afford him.

The rest is noise. 

For now I'll go back to cursing the Patriots and watching the NBA work itself into shape. I'll spend November figuring out why Ohio State is ranked #1 and Kansas #4.  I'll enjoy the autumn air and watch the leaves change.  But I won't worry about ARod. 

Time and Brinks trucks wait for no man.

Up front, a confession. I was going to write about the evils of the DH. How it gives the American Softball League an unfair advantage in the World Series. Then I thought, if people really want a sleep aid there is always Ambien. Or the one with the ads featuring Abraham Lincoln and the beaver. (Which reminds me, if beavers don't have opposable thumbs how could it be using a Blackberry in that one commercial?)

What to write about? Writing about writing? Or blogging. Which is the same thing. Or different.

Are we going to be doing this in 10 years? Will it be as much fun after Barry Bonds is gone? When Michael Vick is raising birds in his prison cell in Richmond and writing books about the redemptive power of pigeons?

Sure, we'll have the epic 10 year collapse of Notre Dame football to discuss. "I remember back in ought-seven when it started. I blogged that it was the end of the line and nobody believed me." Jimmy Clausen may be blogging with us by that time. Probably working as a used car salesman in Wabash by then.

Will FOX let us hang around for ten more years? Will they still need us, will they internet feed us, when we're 64 (or 32 or 41, of 75)? If the Democrats take full control and hold it for 10 years there's a good chance most of the FOX executives will be in reeducation camps doing forced labor for violating the "Fairness Is Whatever We Tell You It Is Doctrine".

Some things will change in 10 years. The click counter on Lisa from USC's blog will either roll over or stretch half way across the page and wrap around. Kind of the MacDonald's of blogging. "Millions and Millions of Readers". I'll still be checking my sitemeter banner and wondering why so many of the domain names end in dot.gov and what that van is parked out on the street in front of my house.

The most persistent atheists who blog here will probably all have religion by then and be Republicans. The most ardent conservatives will drink the Cool Aid and be wearing Birkenstocks and preaching that global warming is at hand and the end is near. We will no doubt be reading their blogs as an excuse to avoid shoveling off the two foot of snow from the driveway after the inevitable ice age hits.

If I'm still blogging in 10 years the avatar stays. If I did post a photograph in it's place, the aging process would probably frighten small children and depress me. (And what responsible parent would let their children read a web site that bleeps out the word beaver.) Who knows, in 10 years maybe they will have cured aging. I think Joe Paterno already has found the cure, so it's a matter of time until they market it. In the meantime I think I wouldn't mind blogging about whether Paterno should retire for another decade. How do you not like the guy?

I'm planning on having alot of fun writing about the cult Steve Spurrier founds after he finally loses it and gets fired at USC. He and his followers will be out on golf courses waiting for the mother ship to beam them up to a land where you golf for six days and throw 40 passes on the seventh.

Mean Dovine will still be around here in 10 years. Of course, he may be running the place. I see big things in his future. Barkley will become governor of Alabama (eventually) and that will open up a place at the mike for the most knowledgeable NBA guy around. A star is born.

Carolyn T will probably be a famous author and stop blogging because her advisors will say it dilutes the power of the Carolyn T name for marketing purposes. The Gerbil Sports Net will become an actual sports network (starting with 24 hour reruns of the sixties reels of 'Wide World of Sports' and eventually gaining rights to womens NCAA soccer which will be "the next big thing".)

The Dan will go legit and become one of those very uptight looking news readers on the CBC. SoCal will be writing great blogs but occasionally lapse into writing a defense of Bonds against steroid allegations, long after we've all forgotten who Bonds was.

So blog and roll is here to stay. I hope. This strange little off ramp on the internet super highway is alot of fun to travel and you meet the nicest people.

"They asked me if my problem was ignorance or apathy. I told them I didn't know and I didn't care."-Anonymous.

Paul Byrd used HGH for a medical problem. Don't care. Just point me in the direction of the health plan that covered three years and nearly $25,000 in prescriptions signed by a dentist for human growth hormone. You really have to pay the extra $10 a month for the syringe coverage.

Kobe Bryant may be traded. Or not. Don't know. This is the most mutual loathing, destructive need, and mistrust you can find outside the Clinton marriage. But how do you make the cap numbers work? Does Phil Jackson stick around for the rebuilding process? And will Jack Nicholson sit court side to watch Ben Gordon?

Five University of Alabama players are suspended for being issued too many school books. Don't care and don't believe it. Of all the things you can accuse a SEC football player of being in possession of, text books is at the bottom of the list. "Police pulled over the pair at 0200 after Milton and Keynes were seen throwing an unlicensed copy of "Women at Work: Leadership for the Next Century" out of their SUV while approaching a traffic check point." Sure... Personally, I think the books were planted on them by an Auburn fan, although where they would have found books is anybody's guess.

Tom Brady is on pace to throw 56 touchdowns. Don't care. What I want to know is whether he will return to the mother of his child and dump the exotic super model. And will he be able to be the first quarterback to overcome the 'National Enquirer' cover jinx?

Is Joe Girardi poised to become the next manager of the Yankees? Don't know. He's arrogant, doesn't appear at team functions anymore, and believes Copernicus was wrong and that the world revolves around him. Oh, wait. The Yankees have already filled that job.

Greg Ryan is fired as coach of the US women's soccer team. Don't know, don't care. OK, I'm lying. Ryan is a dope and never should have pulled Hope Solo. Not that I'm admitting I watch women's soccer. But what was wrong with Ryan? Did he think this was still 2004?

What channel is Versus? Don't know. I want my NHL, but finding it is like looking for the puck during a TV game. You know it's there somewhere, but you can't really see it. I found Emeril, some "Best Selling NY Times" author who says I can eat chocolate souflee and lose weight. I even found a way to turn $10,000 into a real estate fortune. But where in Carmen San Diego is Sidney Crosby?

The Oakland A's hired Don Wakamatsu as their bench coach. Didn't know, never heard of him. But what a great name. You can have all kinds of fun saying it really fast. Or, you can say just the first syllable and then say the rest real fast. You can say it when people sneeze and somehow it sounds appropriate. You can even call up RV sales places and ask to see a Wakamatsu and wait while they look in their inventory.

Manny Ramirez stops to watch a long fly to the outfield. Don't care. I'm bothered by the batting helmet, which looks a germ warfare experiment. I'm bothered by Ramirez and all the players who don't wear stirrups and look like mid-level managers playing in street clothes at a company picnic. And I'm still trying to figure out if he's a member of a Carribbean religious group or just having a really, really bad hair day.

Will baseball let the Cubs be sold to Mark Cuban? Don't know. I think they should wait until his extended adolescence is over. That should be just about the time his cable news show with Dan Rather makes money, or Brittany Spears writes a book on positive parenting.

Scott Boras says he isn't ready to talk money on Alex Rodriquez' contract. Don't care. I realize something baseball owners don't understand. I watched baseball before Alex Rodriquez, I will watch it after he's gone. He can go back to that strip club in Toronto, buy a chain of Hooters restaurants, or write a children's book about friendship with Derek Jeter. I have at least 125 million (125,000,000) reasons not to care.

And finally, will the Dolphins get that second perfect season?  Don't know, but it sure looks like history in the making to me.

World Series coming up. Red, white, and blue bunting hanging over the stands. The ritual torture of the National Anthem by the celebrity singer du jour. The trappings of patriotism and rituals of sports. Same as it has been since Cy Young threw the first pitch to Ginger Beaumont at the Huntington Avenue Grounds in 1903. The big game, writ large on America's sports pages and on the air.

There is another big game underway. It features a team defending modernity, and one fiercely opposed to it. The games are played out in the hills of Afghanistan and the back streets of Baghdad, and often do not seem to result in a clear cut winner. But we have a team we can be proud of, one that exhibits the basic decency and courage that remains after lesser things are set aside.

You can reduce some very special things to the point of trivia. Turn them into bumper stickers, country songs, or rousing political speeches. So, let's just leave it at this. As the World Series starts there are some great men and women in places we wouldn't want to go, enduring things we can't imagine. I hope they get to enjoy the World Series, and even more that they will come back safely to enjoy seeing one in person soon.

Our thoughts and our thanks go out to "the home team".

Retire #21 http://www.retire21.org/ is a group wanting Roberto Clemente's number retired by every major league baseball team, an honor until now given only to #42, Jackie Robinson.  What Robinson meant to African-Americans, the logic goes, Clemente means to Latino players.  Honoring Robinson without honoring Clemente then becomes a slight to Latin-Americans in this country.

The Robinson family sees things differently.  They believe Robinson's achievements paved the way for all persons of color, including Latinos, and that retiring #21 takes away from the singular honor retiring #42 represented.

You wonder what Jackie Robinson and Roberto Clemente would think about this honor.  Both were very much aware of what their achievements represented within their communities, and spoke out forcefully against racism and for opportunity.  But there is no small irony that two men who fought so hard to be thought of first and foremost as baseball players, are remembered in death as something more than individuals.

So how do we acknowledge the two legacies? 

We start by understanding what history uniquely means to baseball.  Alone among the major sports, baseball is understood by its fans as a continuous chain of players.  Babe Ruth lives on in Barry Bonds, Ty Cobb in Ichiro, Christy Mathewson in Greg Maddux.  Players long to be part of that brotherhood of greatness, to put a mark on the game that will live beyond their years.  Jackie Robinson and Roberto Clemente achieved that.

The Dodger and the Pirate were men of character off the field as well as on.  The fire that burned in both illuminated their achievements between the white lines, and sustained them off the field.  Neither was content to leave undone away from the game what was begun on it.  Robinson was an underpublicized leader and symbol for the Civil Rights movement.  Clemente, a man who seemed constantly in motion on the field, gave his last measure of energy to helping those less fortunate.

Taking #42 or #21 out of play is both honor and injustice.  Even while elevating them in memory, It breaks the chain of history and takes away from what seeing those numbers on the field means to fans.   It denies those who aspire to walk in their footsteps the chance to bring forth their glory once again with new deeds of skill and daring.

So why not a compromise?

Why not allow a select few players wear #42 and #21, if they are willing to take on that challenge.  Let teams request permission from the Commissioner's Office and the surviving relatives of Robinson and Clemente to issue that number to worthy players.  Set aside #42 for African-American players who want to wear the number and who embody the special skills of speed and daring Robinson displayed.  Let #21 go to Latino players who exhibit the all around skills and flair of Clemente.  And in doing so, keep them alive in the minds and hearts of baseball fans.

And go one step further.

Let Babe Ruth's #3 be part of this honor.  Today it is worn the likes of Cesar Izturis, Khalil Greene, and Reed Johnson.  Good players and probably good people.  But not worthy of wearing the number immortalized by Babe Ruth.  Ken Griffey can keep his number 3.  But he would be the only one among today's players with that jersey.

#21 has no meaning today, even to Latin players (with the exception of Carlos Delgado).  How can baseball say it cares about its history and allow Kip Wells, Sean Casey, or Jason Marquis to suitup as #21?  This should not be.

Thomas Caryle said "Heroism is the divine relation which, in all times, unites a great man to other men."  Let's rethink the question of these three numbers and unite again Robinson, Clemente, and Ruth to this generation of players and fans and those yet to come.

Marion Jones has come clean. After she ran dirty.

The Federal investigators who came down on Jason Grimsley and Kirk Radomski (the Mets clubhouse guy) are still out there. Slow grinding as they are, the wheels of justice are going to crush some careers over the next year, including some that will surprise us.

The NFL is busy trying to appear concerned about steroids. The league that brought us 350 pound linemen hopes we're too busy watching the circus to pay attention to the clowns. Nobody really believes football is clean so we don't worry too much about Shawne Merriman and we've already forgotten the Carolina Panthers scandal.

The NCAA? The same guys who let Steve Spurrier push up the limit on failed drug tests at South Carolina to four? They won't ask if you don't tell.

Golf? These are the guys whose biggest worry in life is whether On-Star can help them get in out of the rain.

The NHL is flying under the roidar. Then again, if sports were crime hockey would be in the witness protection program. Nobody knows where those guys are at.

Basketball may be our cleanest sport. May be a couple of roid warriors out there, but when it comes to drugs you know they are saving the last dance for Mary Jane.

What to make of it all? And will it go away if we pretend not to notice?

First off we should probably loosen our grip on the idea that sports have been "clean". Judging by baseball's power numbers, something strange has been going on for about fifteen years.

That ship sailed in track 40 years ago when the East Europeans decided that better sports through chemistry was a winning formula. The NFL has been sacrificing the health of its players for about that long in pursuit of the perfect pro football beast. Baseball fell in love with amphetamines back when the only people who were aware of them were overnight truckers.

We need to remember we are the customer. We pay for the stadiums, we put money in the bank for the big free agent checks, we pay for $10 parking and $6 hot dogs. We have the right to disapprove. To demand that the sports we pay heavily to sustain be clean. Alot of people worried about the reception given Barry Bonds as he chased Hank Aaron's record. They shouldn't have. Fans are the honest brokers of sports and their disapproval counts for something in the minds of players and management.

You can't take away drugs from sports, but you can take away a legacy. Writers who vote for the Hall of Fame shouldn't forgive or forget. Players suspended for failing drug tests should have asterisks by their stats. Players have egos and these things matter. When a player is choosing to use or stay clean, they should know that cheating comes with a cost.

Don't buy products advertised by drug cheats. Nike has every right to sign Shawne Merriman to endorse it's products. But you have the right to tell your kid they won't be wearing Nike until Nike gets religion on the subject of performance enhancing drugs.

Speak out. As crazy as it seems, blogs make a difference. Not individually, but as a collective voice that gets picked up by the media and amplified. We have the choice of excusing steroids and HGH or speaking against them. It may seem like a losing battle, but does anyone believe baseball's owners or player's union really wanted testing? The media, and bloggers, were the driving force.

Cut steroids out at the root. If you have kids playing sports you can help them stay away from steroids. And you can say and do something about high school coaches who might not be on the right side of the issue.

You remember the name Marion Jones and feel sorry for her. But it's only right that we consider the names we don't remember. The now anonymous runners up who had their moment of fame stolen from them by Jones. The young athletes who damaged their health trying to compete with her by playing the dangerous game she mastered. The competitors whose sport she tarnished.

Athletes make choices. So do we. Tough love is one of them.

From across my driveway and around the globe it's....

Some stuff about sports.

Michael Tauiliili, who lead the Atlantic Coast Conference in vowels last season, has been reinstated to the Duke football team. He was arrested earlier this month and charged with assault by pointing a gun, carrying a concealed weapon, driving while impaired, failing to stop after an accident and simple assault.

No word from Duke faculty representatives on their progress toward a statement denouncing Tauiliili. Also silent so far, the Durham D.A. and community activists. However, it should be noted that while Durham County has been plagued by lacrosse street gangs, nobody realized until Tauiliili was arrested that Duke still played football. Therefore, the perception of a threat to the campus and surrounding community was much lower.

In a related story, there is still time to join the annual Dudski collegiate bad conduct roto league. The league will use a traditional roto format with 4 NCAA violation and 4 arrest categories. I should point out however, that SEC teams are not eligible after last season's point shaving scandal. As you may recall, numerous players plead down to lesser possession charges when they clearly could gone for the higher value intent to distribute conviction, thus compromising the purity of the game.

Michael Vick may face additional charges this week from federal prosecutors. Sealed indictments are rumored to contain information linking Vick to the Lindberg kidnapping, the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa, and providing steroids to Barry Bonds. Said one proscecutor, speaking on promise of anonymity, "Now that we have him on the dog fighting charges, he'll plead to anything to get a shorter sentence and return to football. His lawyers played hard ball with us on the Zodiac murders, but we believe they will provide us a confession that he passed atomic bomb secrets to Julius and Ethel Rosenberg."

The NBA referee's union today laid 5-1 odds that Tim Donaghy is the only official involved in the recent gambling scandal. They also offered a two foul spread that Shaq would be disqualified from the first regular season game, and announced trifecta bets will be accepted this year on technical fouls on three different members of the same team.

A committee of NFL writers and broadcasters has announced the San Francisco 49ers are no longer the laughing stock of the league. No new laughing stock was immediately announced, although the Cleveland Browns, Washington Redskins, and Jerry Jones toupee are all thought to be in the running.

Johan Santana set a franchise record yesterday striking out 17 Texas Rangers. Ever gracious, Santana thanked Brad WIlkerson, Michael Young, Marlon Byrd, and Gerald Laird who contributed 13 of the K's. Santana acknowledged this was not something he could ever hope to accomplish against a major league lineup. No clarification of those comments was forthcoming.

Sam Pollack, who built a dynasty in the 60's and 70's with the Montreal Canadiens passed away at the age of 81. Ironically, this came just hours after doctors announced that the NHL is no longer breathing on it's own and is in grave condition in an Ottawa hospital. The league was hospitalized last week after complications set in during what had been thought to be a routine procedure to remove the Nashville Predators.

The Washington Wizards today announced they have Blatche. Physicians will treat it with a topical oinment and the Wizards should be ready to be kicked around by the rest of the league as early as September.

And finally, this from the world of NASCAR. DEI Racing has announced that not only will it not permit Dale Earnhardt, Jr. to take the number 8 with him to Hendrick Motorsports, but it will force him to leave the letters N and D behind as well. A settlement was reached allowing him to take one of the 3 "R's". Earnhardt will race in 2008 under the name J. Ear Hat Ale and is negotiating a deal with Molson, the Canadian beer giant to distribute himself.

Some things deserve our respect. The American flag, motherhood, the sales figures for the latest Harry Potter book. And one more thing. Bobble heads.

Bob Walk, former Pirate pitcher and current Pirates announcer, is being given the highest honor an athlete can aspire to tonight in Pittsburgh. His own bobblehead Granted, it has a look of surprise and disappointment on its face, but what the heck. A lot of Pirates pitchers through the years have had looks of surprise and disappointment. And the head way out of proportion to the rest of his body? Walk was a Pirate teammate of Barry Bonds for seven years. Just saying.

Then along comes Andy Chomos to try and ruin Walk's big night. Chomos is a beer distributor from the Pittsburgh area, which is a very nice gig. Selling beer in Pittsburgh is like being a snow shovel distributor in Anckorage. It should make Chomos a happy man, but he isn't. Tonight he's going to express his disappointment with the Bucs by leading a walkout of Pirate fans in the third inning. The third inning of Bob Walk Bobblehead Night.

It's true the Pirates have had fifteen straight losing seasons. True also the team's payroll is something less than what Alex Rodriquez drops in strip clubs each year. And Pittsburgh taxpayers did foot the bill for PNC Park. But you don't walk out on Bob Walk Bobblehead Night. It just isn't done.

Mass walkouts are sometimes called for. If Chomos leads a walkout on "Scratch and Win Monday", no problem. During "Big and Rich In Concert"? Entirely appropriate, as an expression of musical good taste. "Reverseable Floppy Hat Night" is fine, or "Game Show Night", or even "Slovak Day" (although for obvious reasons I think "Polish Night" is off limits). Just not on a bobblehead night.

Lost in the discussion is the effect this will have on Bob Walk. How would you feel if 38,000 people were given tiny cermaic figurines of yourself and then walked away in disgust? You might hope it's an expression of anger toward the Pirates, but there would always be that doubt, always that image of your 38,000 of your little heads bobbing off into the night. And what if there's violence? What if fans begin smashing their Bob Walk bobbleheads or throwing them onto bonfires? And how would a person ever get over seeing his bobblehead's head ripped off?

Walk will be part of the TV crew for tonight's game. As color commentator, it should be his job to explain why thousands of little Bob Walk's are nodding their way to the exits. But FSN, the network broadcasting the game, has announced that it will take no notice of the walkout and not show it on the air. Presumably not even if fans begin hurling their Bob Walk bobbleheads at the broadcast booth.

At the end of the day what does it matter? Chomos is kidding himself if he believes more than a few thousand fans are headed for the exits with him. Probably a third of more of the fans at any Pirate game drove at least 50 miles or more through Western Pennsylvania to get there. You don't haul your wife and kids all the way from Dubois, and pay $68 for outfield reserve seating just to walk out in the third inning.

The Pirates know that. The Nutting family, part owners of the team, repeatedly pledged to bring a championship team to Pittsburgh (they just didn't explain that it would be the visiting St. Louis Cardinals) and then went out and paid an estimated $100 million for a ski resort with a casino license. They also know that any town where 38,000 people show up for Bob Walk Bobblehead Night is starved for entertainment. Pirate fans aren't going anywhere and neither is the team.

Mr. Chomos, if you're reading this here's some free advice. Go to the game, get yourself a nice cold Iron City. Or two. Take your Bob Walk bobblehead out of its box. Ask it if it's having a good time. If it nods its head yes, settle back in your seat. Enjoy the game. The Pirates are playing the Nationals. Who knows, Pittsburgh might win. You're a beer distributor in Pittsburgh. Life is good. Enjoy.

Quoted from anonymous sources within Peter Angelo's command bunker deep under Camden Yards.

When you hired Sam Perlazzo you said "Rough seas make a great sea captain." What did you mean by that?

We expected Sam to follow the tradition of great captains such as Edward John Smith of the Titanic, who went down with his ship and became a convenient excuse for the malfeasance of the White Star Line.

So the Orioles record is Perlazzo's fault?

Look at the lineup we assembled for him. Kevin Millar, Corey Patterson, Jay Gibbons, Paul Bako. Should I go on?

No, please don't. Didn't you tell Perlazzo help would be coming from AAA?

No, and I'm glad you've given me the opportunity to clear that up. We told Sam that he could call AAA up if his rental car broke down on the way out of Baltimore. Or, at least the first fifty miles. After that our discount coupon expires and he's on his own.

Your off season priority seemed to be signing as many free agent middle relievers as possible. Why was that?

We had seen our starting pitching the previous year and felt it was a prudent thing to do. If you've employed a staff of chain smokers to work in a fire works factory, it seems only prudent to keep extinguishers around.

How did that work out?

We feel confident that when Danys Baez returns from the disabled list he will be able to get his ERA down below 6.00, maybe even to the mid 5's by the end of the season. We're looking for at least 50 innings from him this season so we can get our return on investment down into the $100,000 per inning range.

Before the O's June slump the team was at .500 and in second place in the AL East. At that time, did you believe the team was playing up to it's potential?

No, but it has been lately.

So...you fired the manager because?

The team has been playing to it's potential. Weren't you paying attention?

Well, yes, but...

Let me explain it. As long as the team was playing above it's potential people thought we knew what we were doing. But when the Orioles began playing at their potential the fans and media started to notice and somebody had to go. It wasn't going to be ownership or management and nobody in their right mind would trade for our players. That left Sam.

As the fall guy?

We like to think of him as a retrograde performance justification asset. Sam served us well in that capacity.

And now you're talking to Joe Girardi?

Yes. Joe will be the perfect manager for this club. He finished six games under .500 in his one season managing the Marlins and the press and fans practically threw roses at his feet. To be able to take mediocrity and recast it as genius, that's something we've needed here for a long time.

But Girardi has a reputation for having a gigantic ego, only listening to himself, not extending himself toward the fans, and often making decisions that seem illogical?

Exactly, Mr. Angelos sees so much of himself in Joe. It's like the son he never had but wanted to take the place of the ones he did.

Perlazzo lasted just over one season as manager. How long do you think Girardi will take to make the team successful?

Oh, I wouldn't expect that. But he should be able to get us at least through the next ticket price increase.

One final question. What has this organization done to the great Oriole tradition?

You can buy a bobble head of Cal Ripken in the team store.

But that's cheap and plastic and doesn't connect to the team's past.

Exactly. It's the embodiment of everything we stand for as an organization.

"Faith has been broken. Tears must be cried." Mick Jagger, Keith Richards "Wild Horses"

Alex Rodriquez is spending time at strip clubs in Toronto with a woman who isn't his wife.

Did I ask?

Actually, I didn't, but the New York Post thought the rest of us might want to know so they photographed the Yankee third baseman with a young woman in Toronto. Then they photographed ARod's wife leaving with their home with the couple's daughter and few belongings. The actions of the Post reporters remind me not a little of the insurance commercial where the two squirrels run out in front of a car, forcing it to swerve off the road, and then give each other high fives.

Being angry at the New York Post for thrusting Alex Rodriquez personal life into the papers isn't productive. Bears do unspeakable things in the woods and tabloids chase people around with cameras, hoping they will catch something tawdry. It's who they are. It's what they do.

Which leaves us with Alex Rodriquez and Lindsay Lohan. Both are young, both celebrities, both talented. Sadly, both appear bent on doing things that will make their lives more complicated.

Few people think a thing about Lohan's personal life being grist for various entertainment TV shows, magazines, and newspaper columns. She's an actress and, the arguement goes, intrusions into her personal life come with the territory.

We get upset, however, when the personal lives of sports figures are revealed. The angst writers and fans felt over revelations that Mickey Mantle didn't stay in his room on the road drinking milk and writing home to his mom lingered for years even after his death, to the point where a fictionalized account of his non-fiction womanizing was pulled pre-publication earlier this year amidst howls of protest from baseball fans.

The reaction in New York to l'affaire Rodriquez has been instructive. If you check out call-in shows and sports blogs you'll think the average Yankee fan is a Constitutional scholar by day. Peering over their glasses like William F. Buckley, they intone that "Ah, the basic, er, principle here ipso facto, is the presumption that young Mr. Rodriquez is free to walk the streets unencumbered by the purient interests of the press." Or, as one put it, "To be honest, I'm a dog o####uy, and it made me like him a little bit more."

The difference is one of illusion. We understand that Lindsay Lohan's world is make believe, but we lose ourselves in sports. We want that world, the one we turn to when the real one becomes too complicated, to be an arena for heroic men and women to do great deeds. Evidence to the contrary, we believe that our college's football players go to class, our baseball team is steroid free, our basketball stars straight shooters on and off court, and that it all means something.

If you look too closely the flaws in the diamond, and the players on it, become clear. Which is why we want to excuse Rodriquez' forays into high priced strip clubs and low rent off the field behavior or condemn the media for discussing it.

"Say it ain't so, Joe" the kid asked Joe Jackson in 1920. "Say it won't affect your hitting, Alex" is the refrain in 2007.

So here we are. Lindsay Lohan is on the TV in the kitchen with her car smashed up on a curb and Alex Rodriquez is in the den roaming the streets of Toronto with "Miss X".

All I can say is this. Lindsay, Alex, please go home.  The game is about to come on.  I don't have time for you now.  Or later.

May 11, 2007

Astros GM Tim Papura commented today on Roger Clemens signing with the Yankees. Papura wished "the Rocket" well, and indicated he would be welcome back in some capacity with the organization in the future.

"From our point of view, we wish him the best," Purpura said. "He was tremendous for this organization for three years. He helped get us to the World Series. We wish him all the best. He's a tremendous competitor; our young players have learned a great deal from him. He's been a big part of our pitching development. Roger's a special, special human being."

Earlier in the day, Papura had visited with Clemens in Kentucky, where he worked out at the University of Kentucky field.

"We had a very good conversation," Purpura said. "To me, he was very complimentary and was asking about a lot of the (minor leaguers) and how different guys were doing.

September 27, 1980

Commander of Colonial forces, George Washington, commented today on the signing of Benedict Arnold to a long term deal with the British Empire.

"From our point of view, we wish General Arnold the best", Washington said. "He was tremendous for this enterprise for four years. He helped us get all the way to Quebec, and we came close to taking it all with him on the team. We wish him all the best. He's a tremendous competitor, our young officers have learned a great deal from him, (although hopefully not too much). He's been a big part of our army's development. Benny is just a special, special, human being."

"We had a good exchange of letters," Washington said, "To me, he was very complimentary, on and on with the 'Father of The Country' and the 'Icon for the ages' stuff. He asked about alot of his conspirators and how different guys were doing. We hung John Andre, but he understood it was just business. What a special, special, human being the man is."

Arnold arrived today in New York on the appropriately named "Vulture". Speaking with reporters, he denied the reported six thousand three hundred fifteen pound signing bonus offered by the British played into his decision and reacted angrily to comments by Nathaniel Greene earlier in the day on the Michael and Michael town criers program.

Greene said although special leave had been given to Arnold by the Continental Congress to spend time with his 18 year old wife Peggy, it was common knowledge he used that time in "..the playing of darts and consumption of spirituous liquors in various public houses such as good gentlemen are wont to patronize."

"There's not one time that I was away from my regiments, that during the battles I was out in some da@# public house. Then you make a comment like that publicly, and then it just takes a life of its own and there you have it....It's embarrassing for me as a subject of the Crown to sit here to defend that when somebody makes a comment like that. I don't appreciate that."

Arnold claimed not to know rebel sympathizers were upset with him. "To be honest with you, I've been on the move. It happened so fast. I haven't heard a lot of the reactions. Yes, I would be surprised. Again, the people, the fans that were true fans, again, they've seen the effort that was put forth each and every year. Shoot, like I yelled back to the guys as I ran away from Headquarters, I wish there were three of me."

"Look," Arnold said, "George knows this is just business. I don't know what else to say." Right now I have to get my new orange coach with the "NY" on the sides and head across town to look at fabric swatches for the drapery at Headquarters. Then, it's off to check out powdered wigs and look at trying to find a place to stay. I really wasn't expecting this when my (secret) agent called and told me things were breaking. I don't even know if I will be able to find a proper wine cellar. That's what the guys in the media don't understand. The hardships you put yourself through for this game."

"Bottom line," said Arnold as his tailor fitted him with a new gold braided uniform and sword, "I hope the folks back behind the lines understand this one thing if nothing else. It wasn't about the money."

But the last word on the story goes to General Washington.  "Benedict is just a special, special, human being."

The return of Roger Clemens to the Yankees is not the liberation of Paris. It's not even the liberation of Joe Torre, although the sight of reinforcements has always lifted the spirits of those in foxholes under constant shelling. It is, simply, a question mark.

Start with what we know. Roger Clemens is a 44 year old pitcher who has yet to pitch competitively in 2007. He's a Hall of Famer, his name put forward by many as the best pitcher of all-time. At 43 he posted a 7-6 record and 2.30 ERA in 19 starts for the Houston Astros.

The precedents for 44 year old starters are few and far between. The best comparison is Nolan Ryan, who was effective at 44, going 12-6 in 27 starts. John Picus Quinn of the 1928 Philadelphia A's was an 18 game winner, but in a much different era. Phil Niekro won 11 games, but his knuckleball was all that kept him in the game. Tommy John, reworked arm and all, won 13 for the Yankees at the end of his career, but was often ineffective.

A common denominator is that each of those pitchers had a complete season, starting with spring training. Clemens, who is second only to high school homecoming queens in demands for elaborate courtship rituals, was hanging out with the Astros and throwing a little batting practice in March. His ETA is early June, a Bronx #### returning to a Yankee Capistrano.

What then? Based off last year's results, alot of five and six inning outings. In 2006 the Rocket only stretched it out as far as 7 innings on 5 occasions. Expect good control, but don't look for 10K games. Clemens hit 9 twice, 6 or 7 was the norm. It's encouraging to Yankee fans that Clemens mostly kept the ball in the park last season, giving up only 7 home runs.

Last year the Texan was firing it up against National League hitters. This season he'll be facing both the DH and a stronger league. Don't look for sub-3 ERA's. Do expect some young sluggers unfamiliar with the Clemens legend to distribute a few of his fastballs into the bleachers at Yankee Stadium. But Clemens at 44 should still be a marked improvement over most of the pitchers Torre could be sending to the mound, and a good influence on young pitchers like Phil Hughes.

Will Clemens arrival save the Yankees season? It's hard to see one pitcher, even one as good as Clemens, making more than three games difference over four months. The hole the Bronx bumblers have dug themselves in 2007 is alot deeper than that.

The Astros are probably breathing a sigh of relief tonight. They refused to offer Clemens the special priviledges he enjoyed last year, like skipping road trips when he wasn't scheduled to pitch. It may have been a means of avoiding Clemens $19 million ransom he wrung from the Yankees.

The Yankees have bought time with the signing, which may light a fire under a listless team. It also is a rare victory over the RedSox, who also wanted Clemens, and a day of headlines stolen from the Mets.

Betting against Roger Clemens has always been a risky proposition. So, I'll pencil him in for 11 wins, 6 losses, and a 3.25 ERA. But if Clemens wants to go to the World Series, I'd suggest he ask Daisuke Matsuzaka for tickets.

George Steinbrenner's gunslinging days are history.  When it comes to firing managers he's gone from being the horrific glowing Hound of Baskerville, to a toothless yard dog sitting on a porch watching a cat parade with one eye open and one eye shut.

Joe Torre, at last check, is still employed as manager of the once majestic Yankees.  The deck chairs are sliding off into the ocean and it's a matter of time before the old gal rises up out of the water, takes a look around, and plunges into the churning foam of the American League East.  

So why not at least fire a rocket (or Torre) and hope for rescue? 

The answer is simple.  The Yankees never won because of Joe Torre, and won't win by firing him.  It has been Torre's blessing and curse to manage the equivalent of NASCAR's Roush Racing.  The money is there, the team is there, winning is a given.  There is no substitute for victory, no excuse for losing.

For years pundits have described in awed tones what a great manager Torre is.  If they are right, (and they aren't), then how do we explain his fifteen year record of 894 and 1003 with 1 playoff appearance as manager of the Mets, Braves, and Cardinals?  Did he suddenly wake up from a long slumber, put on a Yankee uniform and become a baseball version of Patton?  Did he spend his first night in New York at a Holiday Inn and suddenly the answers to questions of a thousand dreams filled his head?  Hardly.

Joe Torre is a nice guy.  The kind of guy you'd hire to be caretaker to your estate.  He won't drink the Sunday booze, won't chase the maid around your private chambers, and won't drive the Benz except to town to pick up your copy of Investors Business Daily.  He is Vanilla Joe, respected by the help and admired by an all too unquestioning press corp. 

Torre has been, in many ways, an ideal manager for a team of superstars with big egos and bigger paychecks.  When the stars and planets, and the Yankee budget, have properly aligned Torre has achieved great things.  This isn't one of those seasons.

This year GM Brian Cashman has handed Torre a toxic pitching staff full of bad arms and bad choices.  Nine different starters and 9 different relievers.  In April.  Meanwhile, Gary Sheffield and his productive bat are gone, and Bobby Abreu is a shadow of his former productive self. 

Doug Mientkiewicz would be an impressive play if the game was Scrabble, but is a pop gun at the plate.  Johnny Damon is an ego with an over rated baseball player attached to it, Melky Cabrera is melky at the plate, and Hideki Matsui is off to a slow start.  Joe Torre can't fix any of that, but neither would Joe Girardi or Don Mattingly.  The Yankees dealt themselves a bad hand and there is little to do for it but play it out.  

Along the way, whoever manages the Yankees needs to find five pitchers and stick with them.  He needs to cut the pitching staff down to 11 pitchers and stop treating every opposing batter like an exotic disease that requires a specialist to be brought in to deal with him.  And he needs to verbally place his shoe into the nether regions of the numerous overpaid prima donnas inhabiting the Yankee clubhouse.  Unfortunately, that tune is not in Torre's song book.

So Mr. Steinbrenner, if you're listening, fire Joe Torre.  Or don't fire Joe Torre.  It won't make a difference.  What you need most is a general manager with a vision and field manager with a mean streak and sharp baseball mind.  Right now you have neither.  Fire at will.

http://www.sportsline.com/mlb/story/10145426a>

(A sunny day in the financial district in Atlanta. It's 80 degrees outside. A young professional is approached by a man wearing a suit underneath an implausible looking trench coat and sun glasses. He chews on a cigar as he talks.)

(Man in overcoat) "Hey, you. Over here. You're a sharp dresser, a man about town, but you're missing something. Braves season tickets. (opening coat to display twenty or so hanging ticket packs). $3,984 for 81 games, right over the dugout. I'll put you down for two, cause I can tell, you're a happening guy. Got it going on with the ladies."

(Young man) 'Aren't you Skip Caray, sir?'

(Caray) "Keep it down, keep it down. I'm trying to do business here, junior. Respect the suit. Respect...the...suit."

(Young man) 'Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. It just. That's alot of money, and I don't have that kind of cash..'

(Caray) "Who does? Did I say anything about cash? Look, you're a nice kid. Remind me of myself when I was your age, right before Mr. A made me his lieutenant. You got potential and the Braves like potential. We can get behind you on this thing. Give me a grand now, we finance the rest."

(Young Man) 'You can do that?'

(Caray) "From your mouth to Schuerholz's ears. Of course, just don't spread it around, because my boss, he might not be quite so understanding as me. Capice?"

(Young Man) 'Well, they did beat the Mets in New York...'

(Caray) "See, I knew it . You're a good kid, just like my boy Chip. Tried to leave the family and set up for himself in Chicago, but he came back. They always come back. Just sign here and don't worry about those back pages, it's just tax information from the State of Georgia or something. I don't know from it."

(July, in the same park.)

(Young man) I'll pay it back, honest I will, I was just late on that one payment. Please, make them stop following me. Last night I swear I saw Otis Nixon sat in a car in front of my condo until 2 a.m. That guy gives me the creeps. I had to talk my girl friend out of calling the cops.'

(Caray) "Smart move, kid. It would be a shame if Miss Penelope Evette Leroux Cobb Jeffers of 4987 Peach Oak Park Honeysuckle Lane Drive in Decatur were to be struck by a bat or other flying object the next time you two were sitting in Section 109 seats B13 and B14. Young Mr. Franceour has not quite learned the importance of maintaining a firm grip on the bat handle, and accidents do happen. If you look at your ticket, you'll see the organization has no liability in these cases. As for Mr. Nixon, I have no knowledge that this individual of whom you speak, who may or may not have formerly been employed by the Atlanta Braves, is even still in the State of Georgia. I will testify to that effect in the event of legal proceedings, which, I might add we would look upon with extreme displeasure."

(Young Man) 'I'll get the money'.

(Caray) "Sure, you will kid. By the way, John Smoltz talked to that company in Houston you that offered you a job. Smoltzie and I were thinking you're at least 10 large away from being ready for that sort of move. You'll thank me later."

(Young Man) 'But, the tickets weren't but $8,000 total.'

(Caray) "You..... will.....thank....me......later."

( August. Skip Carey paces nervously in the 102 degree heat as the young man talks to an old gentleman on a park bench. Nearby Andruw Jones swings a 38 ounce bat. There is no ball field within five miles. In the distance a dog barks.)

(Old man) "Hotter n' Atlanta, son, hotter'n Hot Lanta. Now, Skippy over there tells me there's been some misunderstanding about the $19,000 you owe us. Now, we're just going to walk over nice and easy to that snow cone stand that Mr. Lemke is standing by and you're going to hand him $10,000 and he's going to hand you an orange delight and a note for the remaining $14,000. Now, let's get along, I'm starting to bleach out here in the heat."

(Young Man) "Mr. Cox, I just owed $7,000 to start with and now I'm living in the back seat of my car and Chief Knock-A-Homa keeps tapping on the windows with a tomahawk and I haven't slept in days and my girlfriend won't return my calls and my parents don't understand about the money I'm asking them for and..."

(Cox) "Son, when Soriano is getting his behind whooped in the 8th do I pick up a phone and call you to tell you my troubles? Under the circumstances I think we've been more than fair. (puts his arm around younger man). Now, if I just forgot about what you owed us, how would that look? I got Willie Randolph trying to muscle in on our territory already? No siree. That's not how it works. Why my own best friend, Leo Mazzone, sat beside me on the bench all those years, I couldn't overlook his debts. You know how he sort of rocked back and forth all the time?

(Young man) "Yes Mr. Cox, sir."

(Cox) "He didn't used to kid. He didn't use to. Just sayin. Now, you go buy that freezie thing from Lemke, I'm getting out of here. (Yelling over to Caray). For crying out loud, Skip, get McDowell over here with that darn car. You're about useless, you know that?"

(September 15, an executive suite overlooking Turner Field. The young man is shoved into a room with a distinguished older African-American man with an engaging smile.)

(Older man) That's just fine. Just fine. You have a seat over there and we'll have a nice talk. I do so enjoy meeting the younger generation. Sometimes they don't understand the sacrifices and trade offs us old folks have made to arrive at our position in life. Sometimes, all they need is just a little talk. Something tells me you're that kind of kid.

(Younger man) Let me just say, sir, it's an honor. To think I'd be meeting Hank Aaron. Like I told Mr. Cox and Mr. Caray, I can get another job, and I've sold my car, and...

(Aaron) Now, this isn't that kind of talk. It wouldn't be a friendly talk if we brought up that $63,000 you owe us. No, I think that can all be worked out.

(Younger man) You don't know what a relief it is for me for me to hear you say that. Thank you, Mr. Aaron, thank you, I just.

(Aaron reaches under desk and pulls out a bat). "Enough. You know what this is, young Mr. banker? This is your ticket out of debt. It's 33 inches long, made of fine Kentucky ashe wood, carefully aged. A master craftsman used years of training on a finely balanced lathe to carve it to a shape that would slice through the air at a high rate of speed and drive through any object it struck with explosive force.

Tonight you will pack this in a carry on bag and fly to San Francisco, California. When you arrive you will be met by my Mr. Caray who will ensure that at 10:25 just as a certain gentleman, who is attempting to take from me that which is rightfully mine, gets in a limo you will approach him, striking him on the left arm with sufficient force to cause him grievious injury. Do we understand each other?"

(Younger man) 'Ye....yes Mr. Aaron.'.

(Aaron) "That's just fine. Now you run along and if you'd be so kind, please send Mr. Diaz in. He has badly mangled two consecutive bunt attempts, and I may have to send him on a little trip to Baltimore. Thanks for stopping by and you have a nice, nice day.