I have a question for you, and please be honest with your answer. Before yesterday, had you ever given even one second's consideration to the term "celebrity chef?"
No? Good, me neither. I was afraid I had missed out on some huge cultural phenomenon everyone hipper than me (everyone else, in other words) knew about, like riding dirty or the first five years of American Idol.
But when I saw those few words in the Foxsports headlines yesterday, that deliciously enticing tag line, "Celebrity chef grazed by bullet at golf tournament," I just knew I had to investigate. Who wouldn't? How could anyone possibly read that description and not click on the link?
After all, so many questions immediately spring to mind. What will Dunkin' Donuts do if it was Rachel Ray? Who's going to fill all those lonely hours in the middle of the night on the Food Channel if Bobby Flay was injured? Did Phil Mickelson finally lose it and Emeril Lagasse bravely stepped in the way and took the bullet meant for Tiger?
Okay, another moment of honesty, please. How did we end up with so many "celebrity chefs" all of a sudden? They're like that stubborn mold in the far corner of your bathroom ceiling, way in the back of the shower stall - you never saw it coming but now you can't get rid of it. Do we really need that many people to show us how to bake a blintz or add a dash of celantro to stuff?
I only ask because to me a gourmet meal is ordering two toppings on my large pizza instead of the customary one. I wouldn't know a five-star meal if it kicked me in the taste buds, but again, maybe I'm the only one.
Anyway, back to the point - that tantalizingly beautiful tag line, "Celebrity chef grazed by bullet at golf tournament." I quite naturally clicked the link, only to discover some guy who looks like he should be hosting a snooty show on PBS got shot in the arm by, sheriff's deputies guessed, someone shooting a gun up in the air a mile or two away.
What goes up must come down and so "Celebrity Chef" Paul Prudhomme got struck with the falling piece of lead, thinking he got stung by a bee on the arm. Are you kidding me?
Now, don't get me wrong - I wouldn't wish any harm on Paul Prudhomme, I'm glad he wasn't seriously hurt, although if he's a celebrity, shouldn't I have at least heard of him? I mean, I don't have to know all about him, I admit I'm not really up on the latest pop culture the way you probably are, but I never onceheard of the guy! Aren't there any sort of guidelines on who gets to be considered a "celebrity" and who doesn't?
Or is Paul Prudhomme now considered a celebrity simply because he had the misfortune to be in the way of a falling bullet? Is that all it takes in today's celebrity-mad society? On the other hand, maybe that's only fair anyway - at least getting shot was more than Paris Hilton has accomplished.
What could be better than baseball at 6:00 a.m.? Almost anything, actually, but for fans of the World Champion Boston Red Sox, the early start was made worthwhile by the final result, a 6-5 extra-inning thriller at the Tokyo Dome over the Oakland A's, in a seesaw game that had a little of everything, with not much going as predicted. For example:
1) Conquering hero Daisuke Matsuzaka would shut down the A's for seven innings or so, and the Boston bullpen would finish them off.
Uh, not so fast. Matsuzaka looked nervous and wild early, allowing two first-inning runs and loading the bases in the second, before settling down and looking good in the 3rd, 4th and 5th. His final stats, 5 IP, 5 BB, 6 K, 2 runs allowed, in an outing that could have been much worse. He actually left with the lead and had a chance at a win, before Kyle Snyder came in to pitch the sixth and immediately coughed up the 3-2 Boston lead, allowing a two-run homer to Jack Hannahan.
Then, in the tenth, with the Red Sox leading 6-4 and Jonathan Papelbon looking for save number one of the season, Oakland tattooed him, scoring a run and not tying the game only because of a bonehead baserunning play by Emil Brown, who got caught in a rundown between second and third after driving in the 5th Oakland run. Papelbon eventually nailed down the save, but he looked eminently hittable.
The best performance came from unheralded Bryan Corey, pitching because Mike Timlin is unavailable, and the other Japanese conquering hero, Hideki Okajima. Both men pitched a scoreless inning for the Sox, with Okajima picking up the victory.
2) J.D. Drew would improve on his lackluster performance in 2007 in right field for the Sox.
Drew actually did help the Sox, although not in the way people might have expected. He pulled himself from the starting lineup with back spasms, clearing the way for last season's Pawtucket Red Sox (AAA) MVP, Brandon Moss, to play instead. All Moss did was go 2-5, driving in the lead run in the sixth inning and then homering in the ninth off Oakland closer Huston Street to tie the game and force extra innings. It was Moss's first big-league home run.
The man who has had trouble staying healthy for his entire career is starting out the 2008 season in typical fashion, but at least for today, it all worked out for Boston.
3) Manny Ramirez would have a monster season in this, his contract year.
This expectation, at least after one game, looks like a keeper. Manny hit the ball hard, going 2-5 with a pair of doubles and 4 RBI. In keeping with his goofball persona, Manny stood at home plate admiring his second double, in the tenth, and nearly got thrown out at second base. Some things never change.
4) Jacoby Ellsbury would hit leadoff and run wild on the bases.
After a slow start at the plate this spring, manager Terry Francona elected to take some pressure off the rookie and returning World Series hero by hitting him down in the lineup. Batting eighth, Ellsbury went 1-4 and was a non-factor offensively, but made an outstanding leaping catch in deep center field that Coco Crisp would have been proud of, crashing into the wall and barely hanging on to the baseball.
5) The Tokyo fans would be a loud and raucous bunch.
At times the Tokyo Dome seemed almost eerily silent, especially considering how loud the fans are when their own Japanese League teams are playing. They seemed knowledgeable and respectful, only really getting loud when Matsuzaka or Okajima did something special.
The clock continues to tick down to Major League Baseball's Opening Day, the day fans everywhere look forward to, beginning, oh, roughly ten minutes after the final out of the World Series the previous year. Hang on, we're down to just over a day left before the start of the new season.
In 2008, of course, MLB proves just how small our little world is getting, as Opening Day will take place in Tokyo, Japan, joining 2000 and 2004 as the only time regular-season baseball games will have ever been played outside of North America.
To celebrate the occasion, the two teams the bigwigs in charge of scheduling at MLB chose to represent the sport on this foray into Asia are, quite naturally, the Boston Red Sox and the...uh...Oakland A's?
Picking the Sox to represent MLB is a no-brainer for a couple of reasons, the most obvious being that they are the reigning World Series champs, and who better to show off the sport than its' crown jewel, based on last season's results?
The other thing that makes the BoSox an obvious selection is the fact that two key components of their pitching staff made their way to the shores of this country just one year ago from Japan - Dasiuke Matsuzaka will fill the Number Two slot in the rotation after winning 15 games in the regular season and striking out over 200 batters last year, and Hideki Okajima came out of nowhere, dazzling major league hitters to the tune of a 2.22 ERA in 66 appearances and making the A.L. All-Star Team in his rookie season at age 31.
So sending the Sox to Japan to kick off the 2008 season makes perfect sense, but Oakland is another story entirely. A glance at the Athletics active roster shows exactly zero Japanese players. It appeared Kurt Suzuki might be a possibility, but he was born in Hawaii, meaning he probably is as familiar with Japan as I am.
Now, I realize the point of the trek halfway around the world is to show off Major League Baseball, not bring as many Japanese players back to their homeland as possible, but given the intense interest Japan's people have shown in following the progress of their native players in the big leagues, wouldn't it have made more sense to send either the Seattle Mariners or the New York Yankees to Tokyo as opponents for Boston, rather than Oakland?
Seattle, it would seem, is the obvious choice. One of the closest teams on our shores to Japan in terms of distance, the city also features one of Japanese baseball's biggest former stars, Ichiro Suzuki. Wouldn't it have been a treat for the fans in that country to see Dice-K face off against Ichiro in one of the two regular-season games?
Or how about the Yankees? In addition to the fact that MLB would have had an opportunity to showcase one of the sport's biggest rivalries, the Yankees also feature one of Japanese baseball's biggest former heroes, Hideki Matsui. The same argument applies to a Dice-K-Matsui matchup that applies to Dice-K-Ichiro, and that is this: It only makes sense to offer the rabid baseball fans of Japan an opportunity to see two of their own people who have made it big in the Bigs, up close and personal, rather than Dice-K facing off against, say, Oakland's Jack Cust.
Once again - big surprise - it appears the people in charge of baseball have shot themselves in the foot. There is no doubt whatsoever the two-game series between Boston and Oakland will be a success and will be followed by other MLB regular-season matchups in the Far East, but come on, Bud Selig, you're pulling down in excess of $15 million a year, couldn't you have used a little common sense in choosing this historic matchup?
It's really a shame Client Number Nine didn't hold out for this: "An exclusive experience for those with discerning taste who seek the very best that life has to offer. You will delight in the premium amenities, including cushioned seats with teak arms, in-seat wait service, concierge services, private restrooms and a delectable selection of all-inclusive food and beverages."
Oh, yeah, and don't forget your own private entrance, elevator and concourse. Presumably, a date with "Kristen" is extra, but the literature doesn't really make that clear.
What are we talking about here? An exclusive gentleman's club? A place for high-rolling VIP's, all those people with more money than brains who are out in the cold now that the Emperor's Club has been shut down by those cold-hearted ####s in law enforcement who don't understand the pressures that people who run big business and big government in this country face?
Well, no, not exactly, although if you subscribe to the notion of the New York Yankees as the Evil Empire, it could be considered an Emperor's Club of sorts. This is all what awaits you at the brand new, $1.3 billion Yankee Stadium, coming to a Bronx near you in the spring of 2009.
Of course, if you're a Regular Guy, none of that stuff awaits you, not unless you earn enough money at your Regular Guy job to pay up to $2,500 per game for your ticket. That's right, the first five to eight rows of seating in the home plate area of the new Yankee Stadium will cost anywhere from $500 to $2,500 per game per ticket.
To put that in perspective, even the cheapest seats in the "exclusive experience" will cost you $40,500 if you want to attend every Yankee game. That's a bargain, though, compared to the most expensive $2,500 seats, which will run you a whopping $202,500 for the season. Jeez, no wonder Eliot Spitzer turned to Kristen in Washington, D.C. for entertainment. He got priced right out of Yankee Stadium.
And that's not all! You have to commit to those seats for a specified period of time ranging from three to ten seasons, with a specified scale of price increases included too, of course. After all, it would be totally unfair to expect the Yankees to have to put up with your measly $2,500 per game five years from now. Inflation, you know.
So now, if you commit to your $2,500 seats for the minimum of three years, you are up to a total of $607,500 to see your Yankees play. And that's assuming you go by yourself. If you want to be able to bring some company on those warm summer nights - After all, what's the point of concierge servieces and private restrooms if you can't show them off to someone? - the price doubles, bringing the bill to a staggering $1,215,000. Even Billy Crystal might balk at that.
Not to worry, though, even if you're not Bill Gates or A-Rod's wife, the Yankees assure you there is still room in the new palace, uh, ballpark, for you. According to Lonn Trost, the club's Chief Operating Officer, there will be about 11,000 non-premium seats at field level and 12,000 at the main level. "Of the non-premium seats, 88 percent will be less than $100."
He fails to mention those "non-premium seats" will be located in New Jersey, so don't forget to bring your binoculars to the game.
This is surely all a bitter pill to #### if you're a non-billionare who has been following the Yankees for your whole life, but hey, that money to pay A-Rod's new $300 million contract has to come from somewhere, right? The House That Ruth Built will no longer be a house, it will be the biggest, gaudiest McMansion on the block, "premium amenities" and all.
"Thank you all for coming, and I will keep this short and to the point. I would like to address the persistent rumors that I am retiring from blogging. I'm not going to retire from blogging. I don't think that's going to happen.
"I'm working out. I'm typing. If my phone rings, it rings. If it don't, it don't. I have a cell phone. I don't have a Blackberry, but my cell phone works fine, even though it's probably older than some of you people reading this. If something comes up, I'm sure they'll let me know.
"I'll come back for NGS IV if I have to. I want to get on the front page of Foxsports.com or else I want to keep trying to get on the front page until there's nothing left inside me. I can still blog.
"Again, thank you for coming. I won't be taking any questions."
***
Earth to Barry, Earth to Barry (And also the players union, MLBPA): You are toxic. You can continue to non-retire or un-retire or whatever you want to call it for as long as you wish, but no team in their right mind is going to pick you up. The birds of discontent you have worked so hard to cultivate over the last 22 years are now coming home to roost.
It's not that you can't still hit, not many people would argue that point. You are not the hitter you were a few years ago, but you are still an imposing presence at the plate, standing with a big stick sixty feet, six inches away from the guy trying to blow a fastball by you.
Sure, your numbers have declined a bit, but still, 28 home runs last year in 126 games is nothing to shake a stick at, even a big northern ash one. Having the all-time leading home run hitter in the middle of a lineup is nothing to shake a stick at, either.
The problem, Barry, and the reason I say you are toxic, is this. Not only were you indicted last November on perjury and obstruction of justice charges relating to your 2003 grand-jury testimony denying ever knowingly taking performance-enhancing drugs, you have proven yourself to be a clubhouse distraction as well with your prima-donna attitude and outsized sense of entitlement.
Some teams in major league baseball might possibly be willing to deal with either one of those two issues, quite a few teams, actually. But it seems obvious that no one wants to take on the baggage that is the Barry Bonds Traveling Circus, while simultaneously having to put up with a guy considered by many to be selfish and difficult to get along with.
No one was willing to go on record in San Francisco saying these things while you were there, but the mood at Giants camp with you gone has been like a breath of fresh air, according to quotes attributed to some of the players.
Here is the problem facing you, Barry, both now, as Spring Training draws to a close, and also what you will face in July: Any team in the thick of a pennant race that could use your bat will not want to have to deal with the distractions and potential disruptions in clubhouse chemistry that will accompany your arrival. The closer it gets to postseason time, the more that will be the case.
On the other hand, a team that is out of the race, that could conceivably use the Barry Bonds name to draw fans into their park, will not want you around either. Why? Teams out of the pennant race traditionally use the late-season as a time to audition youngsters they hope will have a positive impact on their club moving forward. No team in that situation will want to subject their promising young players to your perceived attitude issues.
The situation in Tampa Bay is a perfect example. The Rays supposedly considered giving you a shot, Barry, both due to the fact that they could use your bat in the middle of that lineup, and also to bring fans into The OrangeJuiceDome. Cooler heads prevailed, though - and quickly - with Rays management recognizing the kind of long-term harm your attitude could do on a club composed of so many young players.
In short, and I know it might not sound like it, but I don't have anything against you, Barry, so here's a little free advice. Hang'em up, concentrate on fighting your legal battles, since they aren't going anywhere, and consider yourself fortunate to have had such a great career.
The amazing ability of Major League Baseball to #### on its own shoes seems limitless. The organization that has seen its total revenues jump by a whopping 100% since 2000, reaching the staggering total of $6.075 billion for fiscal year 2007 (That's right, that's billion with a "B"), tried Wednesday to strong-arm some of its lowest-paid employees into making a company-mandated business trip without compensating them.
The season-opening two game series between the Boston Red Sox and the Oakland Athletics in Japan next Tuesday and Wednesday almost didn't get off the ground, literally, as the Red Sox players refused to board a bus to the airport for their trip to the Far East until the issue of pay for the team's coaches and staff was ironed out to their satisfaction.
Incredibly, the $40,000 stipend which was promised the players as compensation for making the trip was never promised to the coaching staff, including manager Terry Francona. Considering Tokyo is known as one of the most expensive cities in the world, especially for visitors, the notion that MLB thought it would be acceptable to send their employees on a 7,360-mile business trip without giving them any sort of travel money is ludicrous.
You want a Domino's Pizza in Tokyo with italian sausage and mushrooms? You can get it, provided you're willing to spend $30.39. Of course, according to pricechecktokyo.com, that is what the average Tokyo-ite (Tokyo-er?) can expect to spend. Prices "for American and European expatriates are usually higher." How does fifty bucks sound? Maybe you'd like to see a movie after you chow down on your pizza - plan on spending $18.21 per ticket at the door.
You get the point, right? It's going to be expensive for these people to make this trip which has been mandated by their bosses, one of whom is Bud Selig, the man making over $15 million this year; the man who has a private jet at his disposal for all that important commissioner travel which is so critical he can't fly commercial.
How much does a batting coach make, does anybody know? I researched it but couldn't find the answer anywhere. You can bet it's less than the major league minimum salary of $390,000, undoubtedly a lot less. And yet Dave Magadan, Boston's batting coach, was expected by Bud Selig and his bunch of cold-hearted cronies to foot the bill for his living expenses in a league-mandated trip to one of the most expensive cities in the world.
The reaction of the commissioner to all this? According to a quote attributed by the Associated Press to Boston Manager Terry Francona, "Mr. Selig was justifiably concerned about playing the game." He wasn't talking about the game next week in Tokyo. The thing that had the commissioner's panties in a #### was the exhibition game that the Red Sox players refused to take the field for Wednesday until the issue was resolved.
That quote by Francona is what is known as not biting the hand that feeds you. "Justifiably concerned," that's a good one. Francona might as well have come right out and admitted it - as a low-level member of MLB's management team, you never know what the upper-level geniuses are going to do next. Better not make them too angry, or else you might find yourself looking for work.
Between fans of the Boston Red Sox and New York Yankees, even over the winter the sniping never really ends, it just becomes a little more muted than during the regular season.
This year in particular, the offseason seemed more bombastic than usual, what with members of both organizations getting involved and ratcheting up the noise. First, A-Rod stepped on Red Sox toes with the ill-timed World Series announcement that he was opting out of his contract. He says it was his agent's idea and that he regrets the timing, but that was just the first volley anyway.
After that came Red Sox closer Jonathan Papelbon's remark to a reporter that the Series-clinching ball, the one he supposedly had in his possession, had been eaten by his dog. The dog's name? "Boss," of course, what else?
Move on to spring training, where Hank Steinbrenner railed against Boston's "Red Sox Nation," much to the delight of Red Sox fans everywhere. Steinbrenner promised to restore order to the universe by beating the Sox, and everyone else, and earning a Yankee World Championship.
Finally, Boston management responded by enrolling Mr. Steinbrenner in Red Sox Nation and sending him a David Ortiz autographed hat as a peace offering. Needless to say, that peace offering went unaccepted.
From a Red Sox perspective, then, the Yankees are the hated enemy, the thorn in their side, the bane of their existence. As a kid born and raised outside Boston, I can testify to the truth of that statement, and undoubtedly the same thing is true of Yankee fans everywhere, who used to say, "You have to win once in a while for it to be a rivalry," in a not-so-subtle nod to the fact that while the Red Sox were going 86 years without a championship, the Yankees were racking them up with regularity. Well, now that the Sox have won a couple, it seems the rivalry has become invigorated and reached a renewed intensity.
But here's the dirty little secret that Hank Steinbrenner surely doesn't want you to know, whether you are a Boston fan or a New York supporter: The Steinbrenner family has been incredibly generous to the charity the Red Sox organization adopted 55 years ago and has supported ever since, the Jimmy Fund.
Established in 1948, the Jimmy Fund of Boston's Dana-Farber Cancer Institute is dedicated to raising money and awareness in the fight against cancer in children. In the 60 years since it's inception, the Jimmy Fund has raised over $400 million dollars, with more than 90 cents out of every dollar raised going directly toward research dedicated to "eradicating cancer and related diseases."
For the past seven years, Boston sports radio station WEEI, and NESN, the New England Sports Network, have teamed up with the Red Sox organization to run a weekend radio/telethon in support of the Jimmy Fund. Each of the first six telethons have raised a larger amount of money than the one the previous year, culminating in last year's total of $3.74 million, with a grand total in the six-year history of the event of nearly $12 million raised.
What does all this have to do with the Steinbrenner family? Since it's inception in 2002, George Steinbrenner has supported the fundraising weekend with an annual donation of $10,000, which he upped last year to $25,000. He is not by any means the only celebrity/rich guy making a donation - Dodgers owner Frank McCourt and MLB Commissioner Bud Selig are two others who have opened their wallets generously - but the others aren't the owners and public faces of the supposed sworn enemies of the franchise.
Rivaries are great for sports. They add drama and excitement to the season and give fans and media something to talk about. But some things are more important in life, and it's nice to see that The Boss and the entire Steinbrenner family have an appreciation for that fact.
This year's 7th Annual Red Sox WEEI/NESN Jimmy Fund Radio/Telethon takes place the weekend of August 14-15, and for the seventh straight year will attempt to break the previous season's record for money raised. Undoubtedly the Steinbrenner family and thus the New York Yankees will again be a big part of the fundraising effort.
For more information on the Jimmy Fund or to make a donation, just click this link. Anyone who has watched a relative or close friend suffer through cancer - and who hasn't? - knows how difficult it is to sit by as a loved one is ravaged by the disease. Now imagine that someone is a young child, maybe even your son or daughter. Take a moment to check out the Jimmy Fund, and thanks for reading.
We are witnessing some impressive winning streaks in the world of sports right now, streaks that might not be getting the attention they deserve. It seems all the headlines are going to the college football players getting arrested for thuggish behavior, or the professional baseball players trying to defend themselves against charges they abused performance-enhancing drugs, but there are some amazing things happening if you know where to look.
First you have Tiger Woods and his five PGA Tour wins in a row. If you don't follow golf you may not have a full appreciation for exactly what Woods has accomplished. Every PGA tournament sees him competing against not just one opponent, but 64 or more, all of whom are among the best in the world at their craft, and all of whom are more than capable of getting hot and winning a tournament.
In fact, the second place finisher in Woods's latest victory, at the Arnold Palmer Invitational, is a guy you may never have heard of, Bart Bryant. Although relatively unknown, at least to anyone who's not a follower of tournament golf, Bryant has already won over $850,000 on the tour this year, and was the only player in the entire field at Bay Hill to break par all four rounds in the Palmer Invitational. Amazing.
Then there is the Houston Rockets and their amazing 22-game NBA winning streak, the second-longest in league history. This is coming from a team that was barely over .500 when the streak began, and they have now vaulted to the top spot in the NBA West standings.
The Rockets have not lost since January 27, and during their streak haven't just been winning, they've been dominating. The average margin of victory for Houston in the last 22 games has been 12.4 points, and of the last fourteen wins, their closest game has been an eight-point squeaker over Atlanta on March 12. Amazing.
But perhaps the most impressive streak is one you are likely unaware of. Everyone knows it's college basketball's conference tournament time, and with all the emphasis on the men's tournaments and who made it to the NCAA field of 64, women's basketball doesn't get much notice.
But consider this: Old Dominion's women's team, the Lady Monarchs, overcame an 18-point deficit against Virginia Commonwealth Sunday to win - get this - their seventeenth consecutive Colonial Athletic Association conference championship.
Old Dominion joined the CAA prior to the 1991-92 season and since joining, have not lost a conference tournament game. Ever. They have gone 50-0 in the last 17 years in the CAA Tournament and, obviously, won it every year. On Sunday, a game Virginia Commonwealth team rode a hot streak of 3-pointers to a 34-16 lead midway through the first half, but from there on out it was all Old Dominion. Seventeen conference championships in a row. Amazing.
So, you say you wish you could trade places with a famous professional athlete for a while, just to see what it's like? Find out how cool it would be to make millions of dollars playing a game, travel first-class around the country, perform in front of thousands of fans every night, maybe make SportsCenter's Top Plays every once in a while?
Sure, it would be kind of cool, but it's not all fun and games. Just ask Kaz Matsui of the Houston Astros if you don't believe me. Here's a guy who has been in the big leagues for four years, made over $20 million, appeared in the World Series last year with the Colorado Rockies. He's got it all, right?
Well, part of having it all is watching as every detail of your medical and health situation is plastered all over the media. After all, your health, or lack thereof, plays a critical role in your ability to perform your job. Most of the time that's no big deal. You strain a hamstring, tweak your shoulder, injure your knee, maybe miss a little time, rehab it and come back full strength. No problem.
Not always, though, and again just ask Kaz Matsui if you don't believe me. Kaz Matsui is scheduled to undergo surgery in Houston Monday to repair an anal fissure.
If you've never heard of an anal fissure, you're not alone. Without getting too graphic, because nobody wants that, I had always assumed the point of that particular area was the fissure. Not so. Suffice it to say this particular injury involves severe pain once a day or so and let's leave it at that.
My point in bringing it up is this: Who among us has not had the occasional sensitive medical issue we'd just as soon not have our friends and neighbors know about? I don't know about you, but my anal fissure is not what I want the talk of the next block party to be about.
Now picture this hypothetical medical situation being carried in every newspaper and every sports media outlet in the country, and you begin to get a sense of what poor Kaz Matsui is going through.
And yet, here he is about to go under the knife and his affliction is headline news, at least on the Foxsports.com MLB page, as well as Sportsillustrated.com's MLB page and undoubtedly every other national outlets as well. The Houston Chronicle has taken time out from their coverage of the Rockets 21 game NBA winning streak to make sure they're all over the situation, too. I know because I looked.
Although the procedure is said to be a relatively minor one, with a recovery time of about two weeks, the Astros second baseman is now facing the prospect of hearing drunken louts all over the National League yell, "Hey Matsui, pull your head out of your #### before you get another fissure!" every time he makes a mental mistake. In some cases, just stepping on the field will be enough provocation.
If he knows what's best for himself, he won't take the situation too seriously. After all, he's still got his health, relatively speaking, and his millions. Back in the mid-1980's when the Royals were competitive, there was some talk third baseman George Brett would be sidelined for the World Series with a case of hemorrhoids. He told reporters, "And I thought my problems were all behind me."
Sure, Billy Crystal got to live out his life-long fantasy Thursday, the day before his sixtieth birthday, when he signed a one day contract with the New York Yankees and appeared in their spring training game against the Pittsburgh Pirates.
Sure, he got to hob-nob with all the famous and not-so-famous Yankees, spending Wednesday working out with the team and following Derek Jeter around the field like a puppy - and by the way, if you're going to follow someone, who better than Jeter?
Sure, he was nervous in his one and only plate appearance, a strikeout on a 3-2 pitch from Pittsburgh's Paul Maholm. Who wouldn't have been?
But with all the attention focused on Crystal, how about a little nod to the pressure poor Paul Maholm must have been feeling? Here's a kid who's 25 years old, a veteran of just two full big league seasons, with a career record five games under .500 and an ERA last year over 5.00 - in the National League! - and he has to face a 60 year old comedian who hasn't played baseball competitively since high school.
Talk about your pressure situations! Can you imagine if he had given up a hit to Crystal? He grooves a fastball and the guy takes him deep? He tosses up a curveball that doesn't break and Billy Crystal slugs a double off the wall? Billy Crystal?
How do you explain that one to the manager? "Sorry Skip, I guess I shoulda moved him off the plate early in the at-bat. Made him move his feet or even knocked him down. He was a little too comfortable up there, but what do you expect? After all, the guy has hosted the Oscars, right Skip? Pressure's nothing to him. What? What do you mean you're moving me to the bullpen?"
Or how about this scenario - A fastball gets away from Maholm and he drills the legendary Billy Crystal right in the earhole. Can you imagine being known forevermore as the guy who killed the New York Yankees most famous die-hard lifelong fan? How do you get past that one?
At least, as a National Leaguer, you wouldn't have to venture into Yankee Stadium every year and hear it from their fans, and as a Pittsburgh Pirate, you wouldn't have to worry about meeting them in the World Series, but still. Pressure.
As it was, Maholm flirted with disaster as the sixty year old comedian, a man old enough to be his grandfather, narrowly missed actually getting a hit on a ground ball down the first base line that missed staying fair by only three feet or so.
In a way, it's too bad the ball didn't stay fair. We could have been treated to the sight of Billy Crystal trying to stretch his single into a double and maybe coming into second base with spikes high, catching Pirates shortstop Jack Wilson somewhere above the knee with his metal cleats. According to Shelley Duncan, that's how you play hard, isn't it?
Spring training in Major League Baseball is normally a time of stretching, two or three at-bats per game for the regulars, and plenty of golf for everyone. This year, though, it seems the Yankees and Rays have decided to engage in their own little tong war.
First came some guy you never heard of for Tampa Bay running over some other guy you never heard of playing catcher for New York on a play at the plate late in their Grapefruit League game Saturday. The Yankee guy you never heard of held on to the ball for the out before leaving the field in obvious pain and being rushed to the hospital where it was determined he suffered a fractured wrist.
It was an outstanding play by the Yankee catcher, Francisco Cervelli (See, I told you you never heard of him), to hold on to the ball, considering the Tampa runner, Elliott Johnson (See?) had a full head of steam going and ran Cervelli over like John Daly headed for the beer tent.
After the game, the quotes were predictable - outrage from the Yankee side and offended innocence from Tampa's clubhouse. The Yankees felt a meaningless spring training game was no place for, you know, real hustle, and that Johnson should have....uh....well, no one really ever said what else he was supposed to do, but what he did wasn't it, dammit!
It was probably inevitable that there would be retaliation from the New York side, baseball's unwritten codes being what they are, but who would have imagined it would come just four days later? After all, both teams reside in the American League East, which means they would have ample opportunities to settle their differences over the course of the season, considering they will face each other eighteen times in 2008.
Nevertheless, in the second inning of Wednesday's game between the two teams, Shelley Duncan of the Yankees went hard into second base with his spikes high trying to stretch a one-base error into two, taking out Rays second baseman Akinori Iwamura. In the A.P. photo you can clearly see Duncan's spikes raised almost to the top of Iwamura's leg, and there is a clear dirt mark on Iwamura's uniform where the shoe struck the Ray's second baseman above the knee.
A total of two players and two coaches were ejected as a result of that play and the pushing and shoving and name-calling that followed it, and that's after Yankee pitcher Heath Phillips was ejected in the first inning for hitting the Rays' Evan Longoria with a pitch.
The Yankees, again predictably, claimed no ill intent on Duncan's part, but the picture seems to prove otherwise pretty conclusively, and therein lies the difference between the two incidents. Saturday's collision at home plate was something you see a couple of times a week during the baseball season - a good hard clean play at the plate. It was unfortunate someone got injured, but if you watch the video, there is no question the play was clean.
The Yankees point was that the Tampa player no one ever heard of should not have barrelled over their catcher in a meaningless game, but no spring game is meaningless to a player no one ever heard of - every play is an opportunity to show the organization you know how to hustle. If the Yankees truly believe what they were saying, they should simply instruct their catchers never to block the plate until the regular season. End of problem.
Wednesday's play, however, was the essence of dirty, with Tampa manager Joe Maddon calling it "contemptible" and "borderline criminal." Look at the above photo again and it's hard to argue otherwise.
Fortunately for Iwamura, and for Shelley Duncan as well, the Tampa second baseman was unhurt. It would be an awful thing for Duncan to have to live with if he ended another player's career with a dirty, vindictive play and that is exactly what it was, although Duncan will never admit it.
Does Bud Selig have pictures of all of MLB's owners engaging in unnatural acts with farm animals? Is that possible?
The man who has presided over what will be known forevermore as the "Steroids Era" in baseball, complete with broken and now bogus power records, and disgusted fans unable to differentiate great performance from juiced performance, received an unbelievable $15.06 million salary in the fiscal year ending October 31, 2006!
Ironically, this is almost exactly the same amount of money Barry Bonds earned in 2007, although the thorn in Selig's side did earn quite a bit more than Buddy Boy did in 2006.
According to the Business Journal of Milwaukee, the commissioner of baseball made just slightly more in 2006 than in the previous year, although he topped $15 million in that year as well. Selig's annual salary is an astounding 34% higher than NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell's $11.2 million, and poor Gary Bettman of the NHL had to scrape by on only $5.9 million in 2006.
Surprised? Did you expect the commissioner to suffer a pay cut or perhaps even lose his job over the steroids and HGH scandal baseball is currently embroiled in? Just in case there was any doubt in your mind as to what is important to Selig's bosses - the owners of the 30 Major League Baseball teams - the Business Journal article makes it crystal clear: "given the league's recent economic growth and that Selig had to be persuaded out of long-held retirement plans, it is believed the [contract] extension calls for further pay hikes."
In other words, Bud Selig was prepared to retire, probably in shame over his complicity in the "Steroids Era," but was talked out of it by the owners. Why? Because they are making so much money under Bumbling Bud's outstanding leadership that they are afraid to install any other puppet, uh, excuse me, person, into the commissioner's office.
The most unbelievable part, of course, is the comment that "it is believed the extension calls for further pay hikes." Pay hikes? Whatever happened to the apparently old-fashioned notion that the guy at the top of the organization gets held accountable for the organization's performance, not just on the bottom line but as far as its public image is concerned as well?
How much will Selig make this year? $18 million? $20 million? The numbers are staggering when you realize he doesn't throw a pitch or hit a ball, but when you consider the black eye baseball has suffered under Selig's watch, you realize the only thing that matters to MLB's owners is the bottom line. Nothing else. It's disgusting and wrong.
Big news today, at least for us Catholics - The Vatican has released a list of updated sins appropriate for the modern era. I must say that this seems more than a little unfair. After all, avoiding the previous Seven Deadly Sins was hard enough, but to now add another seven to the list - doubling it - well, let's just say it's going to get mighty lonely up there in heaven if we're not careful.
And how is it fair that my forefathers only had to avoid the traditional Seven if they wanted to get their tickets punched to the eternal reward in the sky and now I have all these other ones to worry about, too?
In any event, the part of this Vatican story that didn't get a lot of press was the fact that the Pope, recognizing what an important part sports plays in modern society, has thoughtfully issued an additional five "Sports Commandments" as an addendum to the original Ten we all already know so well.
Interestingly, in an attempt to show the church can keep up with the modern world, these Sports Commandments have been issued in a countdown format, much like Sportscenter's Top Plays. Since I know how busy most people are and that you may not have had a chance to review these Commandments yet in their entirety, here they are for your perusal:
Top Five Sports Commandments
5) Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's head coach. Not sure why they would stick with the "thous" and "shalts" if they're trying to modernize, but, hey, who am I to criticize? Anyway, this one sounds fairly straightforward, but it seems a lot of college and professional teams might already be in big trouble, and we're only at Number Five. No one said it would be easy.
4) Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighboring team. This is getting a little stickier. Number Five was straightforward, why cloak Number Four in such mystery? I think this one maybe relates to that little videotaping issue the Patriots are facing. Goodell said he was going to get tough, but this is ridiculous. Who knew he had such influence with the Man Upstairs?
3) Thou shalt not steal signs. Hmm. Seems to be a trend developing here. If Matt Walsh is named specifically in any of these, I fear for Coach Belichick's eternal soul. There seems to be a baseball application here also. Who among us hasn't tried to figure out all those gyrations the guy with the helmet in the third base coaches box is doing? And batters trying to sneak a glance back at the catcher's signs while waiting for the pitch? Forget it. Never again, baby.
2) Thou shalt watch sports in HD. Now we're getting somewhere! If you are having a little trouble convincing the wife to spend $2000 or more that you don't have on a new big-screen HDTV, this might be just the thing to turn the tide in your favor. Nobody wants to be turned away at the pearly gates because they tried to watch LSU win the National Championship on a twelve inch black and white with broken rabbit ears. Surround sound seems to be optional, since it's not specifically mentioned.
1) Honor thy father and mother. Also Charlie Weis. I guess this answers the question about how long the big guy will have his job. Weis, that is, not God. We already knew God has His job for life and so now, apparently, does Charlie. It seems the "Pope for life" gig has worked out so well, that they're willing to try the same thing with the Notre Dame football head coaching job.
From Boston.com and the Cape Cod Times comes a baseball story of greed and avarice that almost seems too ridiculous to be believed. Is it A-Rod opting out of a $252 million contract to sign another for $275 million? Is it the price of warm, watered-down beer at Fenway? Jonathan Papelbon's desire to be paid like Mariano Rivera "for the good of baseball"?
All good guesses, but unfortunately, all wrong. This story is even more ludicrous than any of those, if you can believe it.
This story involves the amateur Cape Cod League, a breeding ground for future major league baseball players that may have no equal in amateur baseball around the country.
If you're a fan of any major league baseball team, chances are that some significant players on your team honed their skills in the Cape Cod League before turning professional: Names such as Lance Berkman, Craig Biggio, Ryan Braun, Jacoby Ellsbury, Nomar Garciaparra, Tony Gwynn, Todd Helton, Brian Roberts and Aaron Rowand, among many others, all played at least one summer in the Cape League. In fact, according to their official website, capecodbaseball.org, fully one in seven MLB players played in the league at one time.
Cape League baseball has always been and is still free for fans to attend and has been in operation since 1885. In its current incarnation the Cape League features ten teams, all located, obviously, on Cape Cod.
Sounds like a storybook All-American summer league, doesn't it? The problem is, after 122 years, Major League Baseball has decided it needs and deserves a piece of the CCBL pie.
That's right, the sports league that's knee deep in its biggest scandal in nearly 100 years has decided the billions of dollars it rakes in yearly isn't enough - they are demanding that the six Cape League teams that share a name with an MLB team (They are the Chatham A's, Bourne Braves, Harwich Mariners, Hyannis Mets, Orleans Cardinals, and Yarmouth-Dennis Red Sox) purchase all future uniforms and souvenir merchandise from expensive MLB-licensed vendors.
Additionally, MLB's grasping accountants are demanding an 11% royalty on sales of all existing inventory from the six affected teams. "Items such as coffee mugs and teddy bears that are not available through MLB vendors could no longer be sold."
As currently constituted, this deal being forced down the throats of these six Cape League teams would squeeze out local merchants, many of whom have been associated with the league for decades.
The reason MLB's Masters of Hypocrisy can make these demands is that MLB annually donates $100,000 of the roughly $2 million Cape League operating budget to its administrators. MLB's accountants, who must work part-time for the IRS, are threatening to cancel the yearly donation unless the teams agree to their extortion.
All six of the teams involved say they will change their names rather than submit to the unseemly arm-twisting by the bullies at MLB, but they admit it is too late to change their teams' uniforms for this season, leading to a classic David and Goliath showdown. A league source, who understandably wants to remain unnamed, says the Cape Cod League will not roll over or be strong-armed by MLB.
The shamelessness never seems to end in big-time athletics. $100,000 is nothing to Major League Baseball. Hank Steinbrenner probably spends that much on towels for Kyle Farnsworth to cry into, and yet Bud Selig's geniuses are threatening to yank that money out from under an amateur baseball league that has undoubtedly provided more players to MLB than any other over the past 122 years.
The Cape League should tell MLB to take their money and shove it; all six teams should change their names, and the league should start a national fundraising drive to make up the loss of the money Selig's minions are using to blackmail them with. Maybe MLB could use the $100,000 to fund a real HGH testing program.
They say confession is good for the soul and if that's the case, it's time for me to come clean; to have my very own Andy Pettite moment. This has nothing to do with WED's (Writing Enhancing Drugs), though, this involves something far more sinister. You see, several years ago I suffered through my own Tripp Isenhour experience.
My brush with PETA infamy occurred probably six or seven years ago on the third fairway at Campbell's Scottish Highlands in Salem, New Hampshire.
Ironically, this same hole was the scene of perhaps my greatest golfing triumph a couple of years before that, when I holed out from 145 yards. My ball was perched in the rough, teetering precariously on the edge of a six-foot hill culminating in a water hazard, when I calmly plucked it from the tall grass with a seven-iron - a swing Tiger would have been proud of - and watched dumbfounded as the damned ball sailed majestically straight and true, bounced once on the fringe, and rolled straight into the cup.
On this day, however, there would be no Tiger impersonations, only a bad Tripp. The round had started out well, at least for me, with a bogey on the par four first hole and, amazingly, a par on number two. Just one over after two holes!
Approaching the third tee with a spring in my step, I pulled out my five wood and put my drive more or less where I wanted it, on the left side of the fairway roughly in the vicinity of the dogleg right so I would have a good look at the green. Then it got ugly, especially for our webbed-footed friends.
Have you ever noticed how one or two good holes can instantly transform you into Superman? I could have taken an easy swing with, say, a six-iron, laid up short of the green, and given mysel####ood shot at a bogey or maybe even a par. But no, I pulled out the old five wood again and took aim at the pin.
"Swing hard just in case you hit it" might be good advice for a baseball player, but it's nothing more than an invitation for disaster on the golf course. I knew I had to put a little extra on the shot if I was going to have any chance at putting the ball where I wanted it, so that's what I did. You know what happened next, don't you?
Sure you do. I skulled the shot and then skulled the duck. The hard bouncing ball that resulted from my arrogance would have been picked clean by any shortstop in the league, but there were none to be had. Fortunately the grass slowed my ball quickly and by the time it reached the poor unfortunate duck it was bouncing lazily, just a painful reminder of why I'm thrilled if I finish with a score in the nineties.
It was obvious the duck was as unsure of the ball's intentions as I was. He couldn't make up his mind whether to go right or left and so just stood there, watching in stunned disbelief as the little white ball took one last bounce and conked him right on the noggin.
I know what you're thinking, okay? Duck-killer. I know. I've lived with the nightmare for years. But here's the thing. My weak-#### shot didn't even knock the little guy over. He rocked back on his heels once, then gave the now-stationary ball one last dirty look and waddled away, disdain evident in the way he completely ignored me, refusing even to glance in my general direction.
I was devastated. That ball would have gone at least another eight or ten feet if not for the duck's unintentional interference. Needless to say, my playing partners were suitably impressed, not just with my plan but with its' execution.
So that's my story. I buried the dirty little incident deep in my subconscious for years, only to have it all come crashing back when I read the story about Tripp Isenhour killing the hawk with a golf shot. Of course, there were some differences. He did it intentionally and mine was accidental, but still, the guilt lingers. Every time I play that course I have visions of the duck with the long memory getting a few of his buddies together and extracting some sort of diabolical avian revenge. Wow. I have goose bumps just thinking about it.
It really is true what they say, I feel better already. Thanks for letting me unburden myself.
