What are these dopes cheering about?  Down goes Crawford!  Down goes Longoria!  Well, it was a nice little run while it lasted.  A cute little run while it lasted.  It’s over now.  All over now.  He gets it out deep and Havlicek steals it!  Over to Sam Jones!  Havlicek stole the ball!  It’s all over…It’s all over! Johnny Havlicek stole the ball.  Just like the Yankees playoff run is over.  Ha ha ha!  Roll Sox, roll!

Peace out homies!  Six two and Even!

It’s a town full of losers and I’m pulling out of here to win.  -Bruce Springsteen

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  The Philadelphia Phillies.  The Fightin’ Phils.  The Fight, fight, fight-in Phils!  It’s a tough, tough, team to beat.  They’re out to win, win ev-’ry day.  Every victory is sweet.  Last night’s victory was sweet.  Last night, the Phillies moved two games ahead of the Mets in the NL East.  Last night, Greg Dobbs got his major league-leading 21st pinch of the season, setting a new Phillies club record.  Yowza!  Last night, she said, “Oh, baby, don’t feel so down.” 

Chase Utley ain’t feeling down.  You can’t keep a good man down.  You’d think he might be.  I mean, he was in the midst of an 0-for-12 skid.  I mean, he had just ten hits in his previous sixty-six at-bats with runners in scoring position.  I mean, he had been coming up small in so many big situations.  Not last night.  Last night, he smashed a tie-breaking two-run bomb in the bottom of the seventh.  Smashed a 1-1 fastball from Pirates reliever Tyler Yates deep into the right field seats.  Ballgame.  Ballgame because that’s what the Phillies do.  Er. don’t do.  The Philadelphia Phillies do not give up leads.  Ever.  When the day is long and the night, the night is theirs alone; when they’re sure they’ve had enough of this life, they hang on. 

As soon as Chase Utley’s rocket cleared the wall, the Philles knew they had this thing the bag.  How could they not?  The Phillies are 53-0 when leading by two-or-more runs in the seventh inning or later.  The Phillies are the only team in the majors that hasn’t lost a game this season in which it led by two-or-more runs in the seventh inning or later.  The Phillies lock it down.  Knock it down.  Rock around the clock it down.  So you can New York Metropolitan me.  You can Florida Marlin me.  You can say it’s a pennant race.  I say when all is said and done, it’ll be the Phillies still standing.  I say they’re strong to the finish ’cause they eat their spinach.  They’re the Fightin’ Phils!

Public Acknowledgements:  Delaware County String Band, Strokes, REM and Popeye

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

  

A fortune in fabulous prizes may go to these people today if they know when The Price is Right.  -Rod Roddy

Public service Announcement:  Ok, here we go.  The Ray Pride Parade marches on.  I love a parade.  The tramping of feet.  I love every beat, I hear of a drum.  I love David Price.  I loved him at Vandy.  Dynamite!  When Vandy starts to fight.  Fight!  Fight!  Fight!  He’s athletic.  He’s big.  He’s strong.  He has a big strong heater.  A big strong ninety-eight mile per hour heater that can’t be beater.  Tough as concreter.  He has a big strong slider.  A big strong eighty-eight miles per hour slider that’ll take you for a rider.  Bonafider.  Vernon here’s got a job.  Vernon’s got prospects.  He’s bona fide.  What are you?  I’ll tell you what.  David Price got prospects.  David Price is bona fide. 

When’s he coming up?  When’s he coming up?  That’s what everybody wants to know.  He is coming up, right?  I mean, he ’s gotta come up, right.  I mean, he is 10-0 down on the farm, right?  1.97 ERA down on the farm, right?  0.99 WHIP down on the farm, right?  Eighty-five Ks in eighty-six innings, right?  Eighty-five Ks in eighty-six innings with only nineteen walks.  Gadzooks!   He’ll be up tomorrow, right?  Andale!  Andale!  Arriba!  Arriba!  Yee-hah!  Not so fast there Speedy Gonzales. 

The Rays didn’t get to where they are by making rash decisions.  They’ve plotted and planned.  Planned and plotted.  Spent the last decade trolling through the dregs of baseball patiently waiting for this day to come.  Rays Executive Vice President of Baseball Operations, Andrew Friedman:  “We want to call Price up when we feel like, developmentally speaking, he’s at the point where that next challenge is the right thing to do for him, and not just filling a need for the team.” 

The Rays staff is stockedpiled with young, talented pitchers.  Stockpiled with Scott Kazmir.  Stockpiled with James Shields.  Stockpiled with Matt Garza and Andy Sonnanstine.  So what’s you hurry?  Slow down.  You’re moving too fast.  You gotta make the morning last.  Clearly David Price has the stuff.  The HR Pufnstuff.  Who’s your friend when things get rough?  H.R. Pufnstuf.  Can’t do a little ’cause he can’t do enough.  He’ll get his chance.  If the Rays are still in this thing come crunch time.  Come Hawaiian Punch time.  If they’re still in this then, then Price will most probably be featured as the Rays’ set-up man as they make their playoff push.  And that ain’t so bad, right?  So do like Marcellus Wallace says to do:  “Go back in there, chill them #### out and wait for the Wolf who should be coming directly.”

Public Acknowledgements:  O Brother Where Art Thou, Warner Brothers, Simon & Garfunkel, Sid & Marty Krofft and Pulp Fiction

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!

Johnny come lately, the new kid in town.  Everybody loves you, so don’t let them down.  -Eagles

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  He’s gone, and we couldn’t do nothing about it.  That’s that.  There was nothing we could do about it.   Real #### ####  Manny’s a Dodger.  Couldn’t they have gone into a room?  Hashed this thing out.   Hashed this thing out like men?  Shake hands?  Smoke cigars afterwards?  Everybody’s happy?  Nope.  Not gonna do it.  Not at this juncture.  Yes, Manny’s a Dodger.  I know it’s true, oh so true, ’cause I saw it on TV.  I saw Linda Cohen on TV.  Saw Linda Cohen on the News.  ESPN News.  Linda Cohen said, “It has now happened.  Manny Ramirez.  The deal is done.”  Oh the humanity!

If you know me at all, you know I love Manny.  You know what I think of him.  I think he’s meant more to the Red Sox than anyone.  Anyone.  Past or present.  Anyone.  The Red Sox will sorely miss this cat.  They will miss his 312 batting average.  They will miss his 274 bombs.  His 868 RBIs.  And the two World Series titles he done brung ‘em.  Know this sports fans, only six players in Major League history can match Manny’s Red Sox numbers in the Triple Crown categories while also winning at least two rings during their tenure with one club.  Only six.  Only Babe, the Iron Horse, Joltin’ Joe, Jimmie “the Beast” Foxx, Hank Greenberg and Stan the Man.  That’s it.  That’s the list.  Pretty good company if you ask me.  Hall of Fame company if you ask me.  Immortal company if you ask me. 

Yes folks, the Red Sox will sorely miss this cat, and so will I.  Like I missed Freddy Lynn.  Like I missed Pudge.  Petey.  Nomah.  The Hit Dog.  Like those guys there.  Only more so.  Those guys there don’t got no rings on their fingers.  Those guys don’t got no bells on their toes.  Petey does.  One.  But still.  He’s close.  He’s not Manny.  And now, Manny’s gone.  I’ll say one thing.  I’ll say, if anybody besides Tito can manage Manny, it’s Joe Torre.  But Joe Torre or no Joe Torre, Manny will continue to rake.  He will continue to rake because he’s still the best right-handed hitter we’ve ever seen.  The best there’s ever been.  A big bad baseball machine.  

The Red Sox had, had, a window of opportunity.  You shouldn’t grab me, Johnny.  My mother grabbed me once…Once!  Had a window of opportunity to grab a couple of rings here.  Pick a pocket or two boys here.  Not now.  They ain’t pretty no more.  Not now.  I don’t care what you think about Manny’s antics.  The Red Sox just went down a peg.  Down a peg closer to the masses.  Closer to the Rays.  Closer to the Bombers.  Closer to the teams they need to beat.  Closer to what we used to be.  Lovable losers.  No matter how you slice it.  No matter how you dice it.  Julienne it.  The Red Sox yesterday, with Manny, nonsense and all, were better than they are today without him.  Just win baby!  When you win, nothing hurts.  Like my main John Madden always says, “The only yardstick for success our society has is being a champion.  No one remembers anything else.”  They’ll remember Manny. 

This is where we get to see how good Theo and company really are.  We get to see if the system truly is greater than the player.  Bill Belichick baseball.  But even Bill Belichick sometimes goes with a Corey Dillon.  Even Bill Belichick sometimes goes with a Randy Moss.  Because sometimes, talent makes up for the other stuff.  Hall of fame talent makes up for a lot.  Championship talent makes up for a lot.  It don’t mean a thing if you don’t get them rings.  Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.

Now, here’s the rub.  The hard part.  The Longest Yard part.  I’m still a proud member of Red Sox Nation.  I pledge allegiance.  I’m a company man.  I meant what I said, and I said what I meant.  An elephant’s faithful one hundred percent.  All that.  If tonight, Jason Bay is roaming left field in Fenway Park against the Oakland Athletics, Jason Bay will be my favorite left fielder in the game of baseball.  Period.  No questions asked.  He’s gone, and we couldn’t do nothing about it.  That’s that.  There was nothing we could do about it.  That’s just the way it goes.  And so it goes and so it goes and so it goes.  But where it’s goin’, no one knows.  Roll Sox, roll!

Public Acknowledgements:  Goodfellas, Dana Carvey, John Fogerty, Herbert Morrison, Gypsy Rose, Oliver, Johnny Dangerously, Raging Bull, Veg-O-Matic, Al Davis, Joe Namath, Vince Lombardi, Horton and Nick Lowe

Public Spectacle:

Peace out Manny.  Six Two and Even!

Say it aint so a-woah-a-woah.  Your drug is a heartbreaker.  -Weezer

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Everybody knows the rumor by now.  Manny Ramirez traded to Florida for Jason Bay and John Grabow in a three way deal that includes the Pittsburgh Pirates.  Some folks like this deal.  Some folks say, “You’ll see a clubhouse with a veil lifted off of it.”  Some folks say, “Trade him for a pair of prospects and a coupon good for a free stack of waffles at Bickfords for all I care.”  I am not one of those folks. 

The Red Sox have won two rings in the last four years.  Two rings thanks in large part to Mr. Manny Ramirez.  Maybe people have gotten complacent.  Maybe people are resting on their laurels.  Maybe people have forgotten.  Forgotten how miserable those 1918 chants actually were.  How they made us feel.  Made us feel a lot more miserable than Manny’s current rumblings, I can tell you that. 

Maybe they forgot.  Forgot Manny won  MVP of the World Series.  The first World Series Championship in eighty-six years.  Maybe they forgot last year his walk-off three-run bomb run in Game Two of the ALDS against the California Angels.  Maybe they forgot he leads everybody all-time in postseason home runs.  Manny has incredible numbers.  Ridiculous numbers.  Hall of Fame numbers.  As the kids like to say these days, he sure can rake.  All this guy does is rake.  Sox winning, Manny rakes.  Sox losing, Manny rakes.  Big games, Manny rakes.  Small games, Manny rakes.  Business bad?  #### you, pay me.  Oh, you had a fire?  #### you, pay me.  Place got hit by lightning, huh?  #### you, pay me.  That’s Manny.  I haven’t forgotten.  An elephant never forgets.  I meant what I said, and I said what I meant.  An elephant’s faithful one hundred percent. 

Some look at Manny’s antics and flippantly remark, “Manny thinks he’s bigger that the game.”  Know this sports fans, Manny is the hardest working man in show business.  He’s the first one in the weight room.  He’s the first one at the ballpark.  He’s endlessly watching film.  He works tirelessly at his craft.  Manny talking about the off-season:  “I know this might sound funny, but I play baseball.  Me and Varitek play in the training field.  Can’t get our minds off of it.”  So pack up your criticisms.  Pack up your lollygag the ball around the outfield.  Pack up your lollygag your way down to first.  Just pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile.  Smile at the best right handed hitter you ever did see.  The most important Red Sox of all time.

Public Acknowledgements:  Goodfellas, Dr. Seuss, Bull Durham and George Asaf

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

 

Ain’t that a shame? My tears fell like rain. Ain’t that a shame? You’re the one to blame.  -Fats Domino

Public Service Announcement:  OK, here we go!  Another year, another snub.  Women may like that!  Yes!  I understand women.  The snub may be good for them.  They may love the snub!  Not me.  You think that I’m fresh off the boat, and you can kick me!  But I’m too big for that now.  I’m sick a’ takin’ the scrap from you…And I’m sicka the high hat!  I know.  The Baseball Hall of Fame.  Cooperstown.  Hallowed grounds.  Preserving history, honoring excellence, connecting generations.  All that.  You wanna preserve history?  Huh?  Do ya?  You wanna honor excellence?  Really?  Then give Jim Ed Rice his due.  Do wa ditty, ditty dum ditty do. 

I do this every year, so I’ll make this brief.  Jim Rice belongs in the Hall.  Anything else is a travesty.   It’s a travesty of a mockery of a sham of a mockery of a travesty of two mockeries of a sham.  In Jim Ed’s day, as a successor to Ted Williams and Yaz roaming left field for the Boston Red Sox, he was the AL’s most feared slugger.  The most feared slugger.  Bar none!  A mainstay in the clean-up spot at the All Star game.  In 1978, he was the best hitter in baseball.  The best hitter in baseball.  Nobody was better.  Not Dave Parker.  Not Reggie Jackson.  Not George Foster.  Not nobody.  Enough is enough.  Here are some stats:

In 1977, he led the league with thirty-nine bombs.  He also had 206 hits.  The first of three consecutive years with at least thirty-five homers and 200 hits.  Three consecutive years with at least thirty-five homers and 200 hits.  Are you kidding me?  He was the first player ever to have accomplished that feat.  Ever!  

He also led the league in total bases for three straight years, becoming only the third A.L. player - after Ty Cobb and Ted Williams - to do so.  You got the Georgia Peach.  You got the Splendid Splinter.  You got Jim Ed.  That’s it.

Jim Ed won the MVP award in 1978.  In 1978, he accumulated an astounding 406 total bases.  406!  The only guy ever in the American League to do so since 1938.  The last guy to do it before Rice?  Joltin’ Joe DiMaggio.  No one in the AL has done it since Rice.  No one.  Not even the juicers.  Simply unbelievable.  EMF style.

Of the seventeen players with 300 homers and a career average as high as Rice’s .298, Rice is the only one not in Cooperstown.

He is one of only two American League players ever to lead his league in both triples and bombs in the same season.

He remains the only player ever to lead his league, and Major League Baseball in triples, bombs and RBIs in the same season.

From 1975 to 1986, Rice led the American League in total games played, at-bats, runs scored, hits, homers, RBIs, slugging percentage, total bases, extra-base hits, go-ahead RBIs, multi-hit games, and outfield assists. 

Jim Rice was so strong that his ordinary grounders would be into the outfield before the infielders could react to them.  So strong he would break bats on check swings.   Some kids #### their name in the snow.  Jim Ed Rice can #### his name into concrete.

Free Jim Rice!

Public Acknowledgements:  Seinfeld, Miller’s Crossing, Manfred Mann and Bananas

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

When the cat took your tongue, I say you took it right back.  Your mouth is so big, one bite would kill a Big Mac.  -Run DMC

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go.  I said it before, I’ll say it again.  No one likes a big mouth.  I liked Manny better when he wasn’t talking to the press.  A lot better.  Manny just may be the most important player in Red Sox history.  Two rings will do that.  Two rings in four years with a team that has won bupkus for eighty-six years prior, will do that.  But this current escapade, or series of escapades is undoing all of that.  Peeing in the Green Monster was funny.  Listening to his IPod in the outfield was funny.  The home run poses are funny.  This stuff ain’t funny.  It’s disturbing.  And if it’s disturbing me, a blatant Manny supporter, I can only imagine how the rest of Red Sox Nation feels.  Hello, this is Chuck to remind Bill to SHUT UP!  Shut up!  Be like Crash Davis.  “I’m just happy to be here and hope I can help the ballclub…I just wanna give it my best shot and, Good Lord willing, things’ll work out.”  You’re probably right.  When it comes to making a deal, the Sox are probably not going to pull the trigger.  The Sox do know what they got here.  The Red Sox got one of the best right-handed hitters in the bigs.  The Red Sox got a player who was instrumental in helping them win two World Series in the last four seasons.  I do not want to see Manny in a Mets uniform.  I do not want to see Manny is Dodgers or Phillies uniform.  I do not even want to see Manny in an Iraqi uniform.   Not in a box.  Not with a fox.  Not in a house.  Not with a mouse.  Last night, Manny Ramirez hit home run number twenty.  Manny Ramirez has now reached the 20-homer mark in eight straight seasons for Boston.  Only one other player in team history had eight consecutive seasons with at least 20 home runs: Dwight Evans.  I never got used to Dewey in an Orioles uniform.  And Dewey never won a World Series.   So Manny, think of what you're saying.  You can get it wrong and still you think that it's all right.  Think of what I'm saying.  We can work it out and get it straight; I don't want to say good night.

Public Acknowledgements:  Night Shift, The New York Times, Bull Durham and Dr. Seuss and The Beatles

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!

The chief part of the stories, however, turned upon the favorite spectre of Sleepy Hollow, the Headless Horseman, who had been heard several times of late, patrolling the country; and, it was said, tethered his horse nightly among the graves in the churchyard.  Washington Irving

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  I can’t help it.  The All-Star Game makes me think of him.  How can you not think of Teddy Ballgame being wheeled through the 1999 All-Star Game at Fenway Park.  Bringing grown men to tears.  Tears, I tell you!  Before last night’s All-Star Game, there were highlights of the Splinter.  In 1941, he drilled a bomb deep into the right field stands for the winner winner chicken dinner.  In 1946, Ted belted two All-Star-Game home runs at Fenway Park.  The second off of a Rip Sewell eephus. A Rip Sewell eephus that had never before been taken yard.  Ever.  Williams drove in five runs and scored four times.  Both All-Star Game records.   In the 1950 All Star Game, he fractured his elbow crashing into the Comiskey Park wall while catching a Ralph Kiner fly ball.  Played his last All-star Game in 1960.  Actually played his last two All-Star Games.  That’s right, in 1960, two games were played.  One on July 11, and the other on the thirteenth.  Williams played in the All Star Game a total of eighteen times.  Heck the All-Star MVP Award is named for him.  Ted always said:  “A man has to have goals.  For a day, for a lifetime.  And that was mine, to have people say;  ‘There goes the greatest hitter who ever lived.’”  The man’s goal was not to have his head chopped off.  Chopped off and stuck in a bucket of goo in some Arizona cryonics lab.  Like Walt Disney he is frozen.  He didn’t sign up for that.  The only publicly known documentation that suggests Ted Williams wanted to be cryonically preserved is on a piece of scrap paper.  A piece of scrap paper stained with motor oil and dated Nov. 2, 2000.  A piece of scrap paper, stained with motor oil and dated Nov. 2, 2000, that spells out some wacky cryonics pact.  Some wacky family cryonics pact that was probably just a practice Ted Williams autograph on a plain piece of paper.  A practice Ted Williams autograph that the wacky family cryonics pact had later been added.  Whenever I think of it, it makes me sick.  Sick, I tell you!  I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.  Somebody should be ashamed of themself.  Downright ashamed. 

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six Two and even!

Josh Q. Public:  Boy, the way Glenn Miller played.  Songs that made the Hit Parade.  Guys like us, we had it made.  Those were the days.  -Archie Bunker

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Whatsamatta Binky?  Life got you down?  Down on the ground?  You long for the glory days?  The wink of young girl’s eye?  Glory days?  You’re a traditionalist.  A purist.  Your glass is always half emptiest.  You curse the day Ron Blomberg was ever born.  You say the Wildcard should never have reared its ugly head.  Steroids have ruined the game?  Lighten up Francis.  The sky is not falling.  I revere the game of baseball as much you do.  Paul Revere the game as much as you do.  Just me and my horsy and a quart of beer the game as much as you do.  Probably more so.  I live in a field of dreams.  I watch the game as if I dipped myself in magic waters.  My memories are so thick you have to brush them away from my face.  I used to watch This Week In Baseball each and every Saturday.  Joe Garagiola too.  I remember Pudge waving it fair.  “There it goes!  It’s a long drive…if it stays fair…home run!”  I remember when Larcenous Lou Brock touched Ty Cobb’s untouchable stolen base record.  I remember Reggie owning October.  I remember all those things.  Your memories may go back even farther.  Go back to Bullet Bob Gibson.  Go back to the Say Hey Kid.  Stan the Man and  Rocky Colavito.  Or maybe not that far.  Maybe only as far as Cal.  As Rhino.  As Dave Stewart.  God love you.  Cherish those memories.  Hold them dear.  I do.  You’re allowed to be a sentimentalist.  But, be a sentimentalist without being a defeatist.  You’re allowed to embrace your memories.  But, embrace your memories while still forging new ones.  In these days of instant information and TMZ, we lose sight of the forest beyond the trees.  We lose sight of the Ichiros.  We lose sight of the Orlando Hudsons, the Adrian Gonzalezes.  And that’s a shame.  My tears fell like rain.  Those guys are good.  Real good.  We should be paying attention.  While we focus on the minutia and try to outsnark one another, we miss stories.  Miss the Brad Ziegler story.  Miss stuff like that there.  As we click and reclick the refresh button on Deadspin waiting with hope upon hope to see who has gotten tasered today, we forget we still have some pretty damn good ballplayers in today’s game if I do damn say so my own damn self.  We still have guys like Hanley Ramirez.  We still have guys like Chase Utley.  Like Carl Crawford.  Dustin Pedroia.  Guys who play the game hard.  Guys who play the game right.  Like it should be played.  We have Hall of Fame guys too.  For every Robin Roberts there is a Roy Halladay.   For every Josh Gibson there is a Big Papi.  For every Rollie Fingers a Mariano Rivera.  So cheer up.  Gray skies are gonna clear up.  Put on a happy face.  All is right with the world.  All is right with baseball.  These are the good old days.

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six Two and even!

Josh Q. Public:  Tuck you in, warm within.  Keep you free from sin.  Till the sandman he comes.  -Metallica

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Like my main Matthew always says, “So the last shall be first, and the first last.”  Like Michael Kay said.  Michael Kay is on the radio today.  A few days ago, Michael Kay said Mariano Rivera should start in this summer’s 79th Midsummer Classic.   Michael Kay was right.  And what’s right is right.  This is right.  Phil Niekro says, “This final All-Star Game at Yankee Stadium is what the Stadium is all about, memories.”  What better memory could there be than trotting out the Sandman to start that ballgame?  Mariano may not have built this house, but he sure put a lot of work into it.  Put a lot of work into it back when he was setting up John Wetteland.  Back when he was setting up the first Yankees Championship in eighteen years.  Back when he was setting up a Dynasty.  The rest, as they say, is history.  A history of memories.  MLB, Terry Francona, do like M-M-M-Martin.  Do like M-M-M-Malcom.  Do the right thing.  Howard Cosell will tell you, “What’s right isn’t always popular.  What’s popular isn’t always right.”  I’m here to tell ya, this will be both right and popular.  Get her done.

 

Public Spectacle: 

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:  Big time.  I’m on my way, I’m making it.  Big time.  I’ve got to make it show, yeah.  Big time.  So much larger than life.  -Peter Gabriel

Public Service Announcements:  Ok, here we go!  Eighty-one games in the books.  Time to do this.  Like we always knew this.  I do the Smurf, the Popeye, and the Jerry Lewis.  I also hand out awards.  Midseason awards.  If you pleasin’ awards.  Grade A guaranteesin’ awards:

Willie Mays Award (Best Player on the Planet): Fresh off Player of the Month, this award goes to Hanley Ramirez.  Beast of the East.  A lean mean baseball machine.  This kid really can play the came.  On offense, he hits for power.  He hits for results.  He’s the best leadoff hitter I’ve seen since Rickey.  On defense, he has exceptional range.  He has an equally exceptional arm.   He is going to be the best player in baseball for a long, long time.

Teddy Ballgame Award (Best Hitter):  Lance Berkman.  Berkman has put together one of the strongest first halves we’ve seen in a while.  A Ken Patera first half.  Just a monster.  A leviathan.  A barbarian.  A behemoth.  I’m no sabermatric guy.  No Bill James, I.  But Berkman’s numbers are just astounding.  .364/.444/.690 in 313 at-bats.  He has also posted the majors’ highest OPS (1.135), OPS+ (198) and slugging percentage.  He is second in the NL in batting average and RBIs and third in homers.  If it weren’t for Chipper,  Berkman would have a legitimate shot at the circuit’s Triple Crown.   

Sandy Koufax Award (Best Pitcher):  I said it yesterday.  I’ll say it again today.  Have another drink on me Doc Holliday.  Have another drink on me.  Roy Halladay.  In an age of pitch counts, Roy Halladay is a throw back.  A go back.  An Adrianne Barbeau back. Roy Halladay is by far and away the most unappreciated player in the game.  When all is said and done, Halladay will go down as the greatest Blue Jays pitcher ever.  When all is said and done, Halladay will go down as a first ballot Hall of Famer.  When all is said and done, he will go down as the best pitcher of his generation. 

Freddy Lynn Award (Best Offensive Rookie):  Rookie rookie, who gets the cookie.  Evan Longoria.  That’s who.  Longoria is poised to become the just third rookie in the last fifty years to have fifteen bombs, twenty doubles and fifty RBIs by the All-Star break.  Holy cow!  A once stud prospect for the Rays is now a stud Ray.  He is now the best player on baseball’s best story of 2008.  Twice he’s won games with walk-off hits.  Earlier this month, he drove a 442-foot blast at Rangers Park in Texas to become just the second player in the stadium’s history to reach the second-level outfield deck.  Light tower power.  He’s only going to get better.  Yikes.

Mark Fidrych Award (Best Rookie Pitcher):  The other guy in the Josh Hamilton trade.  Edinson Volquez.  Voltron.  Voltron may not only win the NL Rookie of he Year, he just may win the Cy.  The only other guy to do that was something in the air that night.  The stars were bright, Fernando.  Fernando Valenzuela.  Great.  Now I gotta change the name of the award. 

Brooks Robinson Award (Best Defensive Player):  Heard in a glooove song.  Heard it in a glooove song.  Can’t be wrong.  Can’t be wrong picking the O-Dog.  Can’t be wrong picking Orlando Hudson.  Orlando Hudson remains the best defensive player in baseball.  The best I’ve ever seen.  Maybe the best there’s ever been.  Just a glove machine.  And he won’t work for nobody but you.  Year after year.  Game after game.  Web gem after gem.  Simply the best.

Hank Greenberg Award (Best Jewish Ballplayer):  Hey, Sandy Koufax was already taken.  You got the Hebrew Hammer, Ryan Braun.  You got the Greek God of Walks, Kevin Youkilis.  But for my money, Ian Kinsler is the best Jewish ballplayer going.  When you think of second basemen, you don’t normally think about Kinsler.  He may not even be in your fav five.  He should be.  

Wade Boggs Award (Cheatenist Summama####):  Madonna’s new beau.  There was Jose Canseco.  There was Dennis Rodman.  There was Mark Messier.  You can now A-Broad to that list.  You can now A-Broad to that notch on the bedpost.  She may not be as muscular as Alex likes, but he likes Madonna just the same.  His wife doesn’t.  His wife likes Lenny Kravitz.  Oh, the tangled web weave.

Impossible Dream Award (Best Story Team):  Tampa Bay Rays

Jim Abbot Award (Best Story Player):  Jon Lester

Cecil Fielder Award (Fattest Player):  CC Sabathia

Andres Galarraga Award:  (Comeback Player):  Bartolo Colon

Sparky Anderson Award: (Top Manager):  Fredi Gonzalez

Lou Brock Award (Stolen Bases):  Willy Tavaras

Ron Blomberg Award (Designated Hitter):  Milton Bradley 

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:  If we took a Halladay.  Took some time to celebrate.  Just one day out of life.  It would be, it would be so nice.  -Madonna

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Have another drink on me Doc Holliday.  Have another drink on me.  You deserve it.  The hardest working man in show business.  There’s no business like show business like no business I know.  Two balmy nights ago at Safeco Field, Roy Halladay was on the hill.  King of the hill.  Two balmy nights ago at Safeco Field, the king of the hill notched his sixth complete game.  Notched twice as many complete games as any other pitcher in the majors.  Yowza!  Just another a day at the office.   Just another four hit, six strike-out, no walk performance.   Just like he always does.  Like he did back in ‘03.  Back in ‘03 when Halladay led the American League in wins.  Led in games started.  Led in shutouts and innings.  Needless to say, he won the Cy back in ‘03.   In an age of pitch counts, Roy Halladay is a throw back.  A go back.  An Adrianne Barbeau back.  Like my main man Leo Mazzone always says,”We pay attention to pitch counts, but there are a bunch of priorities ahead of pitch counts…What i####uy’s out there, he’s got a hundred pitches and he isn’t tired?”   Ya what about that?  Harry Leroy Halladay.  That’s what’s about that.  Harry Leroy Halladay don’t get tired.  Ya heard?  Don’t get tired.  Since 2000, Harry Leroy Halladay has the most complete games in baseball.  Thirty-five complete games in baseball.  That’s more than Livian Hernandez.  That’s more that Randy Johnson.  That’s more than a lot of folks.  He’s led baseball three out of the last five years.  A gaggle of complete games.  Rockin’ Robin Roberts would be proud.  So would Kid Nichols.  So would Warren Spahn.  Greg Maddux.  Those guys there.  So would Dave Steib and Jim Clancy.  When all is said and done, Halladay will go down as the greatest Blue Jays pitcher ever.  When all is said and done, Halladay will go down as a first ballot Hall of Famer.  When all is said and done, he will go down as the best pitcher of his generation. 

Public Acknowledgements:  Bobby Dimes, Hank Williams Jr., and Ethel Merman

Public Spectacle: 

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

  

Josh Q. Public:  Oh no, you got to pay.  When you hit rock bottom, and you’re there to stay.  -Kiss 

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  This isn’t a very nice one.  Not at any price one.  Not a Riunite and ice one.   But it has to be done.  We all know Lance Berkman is tearing it up.  Chipper Jones is loaded for bearing it up.  Josh Hamilton is hasn’t got a caring it up.  Chase Utley is laissez-fairing it up.  We know this.  That’s not why I’m here today.  Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.  I know.  Sounds harsh.  But it sure is fun.  Ain’t it?  Of course it is.  So without further ado, the All-Worst Team:

C:  J.R. Towles.  Lance Berkman may be in Towles corner, but I’m not.  How could I be?  Towles is batting a meager .150.  He has a paltry four bombs.  A sparse twelve base knocks.   The kid has only two hits in thirty six at-bats over the first twelve games in May.  Like my main Charles Dickens always says, “Now, I return to this young fellow.  And the communication I have got to make is, that he has great expectations.”  He certainly does.  He’s not living up to them.  Towles started off the 2008 campaign with four homers in the first three weeks of the season, but has since gone cold.  Ice cold.  Stone cold.  To this point of the season, Towles has exactly 100 at bats with only fifteen hits while striking out twenty-four times.  That’s no way to start a career.  No way at all.

1B:  Ryan Garko.  Wanna know how badly Garko is playing?  Huh?  Do ya.  He’s playing so badly, Michael Aubrey is cutting into his playing time.  That’s bad.  After watching Fred Flintstone hit .182 in his last twenty-seven games, manager Eric Wedge has benched him.  Aubrey had two home runs in sixteen at-bats since his recall.  Garko has two home runs in his last ninety-four.  Egads!  Overall this year, Garko is hitting .236 with four bombs and just nineteen RBIs.  He is hitting .216 with runners in scoring position.  Call it Jungle Karma.  Call it the curse of Jim Rome.  Call it anything you like.  Ryan Garko has been just awful.

2B:  Robinson Cano.  Ha ha ha!  He ain’t got more action than his man John Woo.  And he ain’t got mad hits like he was Rod Carew.  Ha ha ha!  If you read the New York tabloids, you’d think this kid was back.  Back and on track.  Back on the attack.  Sure Cano has raised his average.  Raised it to the highest it’s been all season.  Raised it to a staggering .224.  Forgive me if I’m not impressed.  I’m not impressed with his impatience at the plate.  I’m not impressed with the way he refuses to work pitch counts.  I’m not impressed with his recent surge.  I’m not impressed with Robinson Cano.

3B:  Jack Hannahan.  When Hannahan played with the Tigers, they called him Jack Hann-a-who?  Now that he’s with the A’s, that name still applies. 

SS:  Tony Pena Jr. is simply not hitting.  Not a lick.  No magic stick.  He can’t hit once.  He can’t hit twice.  He can’t hit the baddest chicks.  Even if you lie to yourself and say that he’s a great defensive shortstop, which he is not, it doesn’t matter.  It just doesn’t matter.  Even if Pena improved his batting average one hundred points, he still wouldn’t be hitting enough to justify regular playing time.  Maybe it’s time to start playing Alberto Callapso and see what happens.  It couldn’t be any worse than this.

OF:  Lastings Milledge.  When the Mets first traded this cat, I thought they made a mistake.  A big mistake.  Like Fonzie, I was wrrrrrr.   I was wrrrrrr.  I was wrong.  You lollygag the ball around the infield.  You lollygag your way down to first.  You lollygag in and out of the dugout.  You know what that makes you?  A lollygagger. 

OF:  Andruw Jones.  It wasn’t too long ago Andruw Jones was the best centerfielder in all of baseball.  He ain’t pretty no more!  Oh, how the mighty have fallen.  Andruw Jones’ frustrating season took another turn for the worse.  It took a turn for the worse when when the Dodgers announced their $36-million outfielder would undergo surgery on his right knee.  And not a moment too soon.  He was hitting .165 with a team-high forty-five strikeouts in 133 at-bats. 

OF:  Corey Patterson.  Two words.  Jay Bruce.

SP:  Barry Zito.  Worst contract in the history of sports.

CL:  Eric Gagne.  Cool Papa Bell was so fast he could get out of bed, turn out the lights across the room and be back in bed under the covers before the lights went out.  Lights out for light out.

Public Acknowledgements:  William Shakespeare, Beastie Boys, 50 Cent, Happy Days, Larry Hockett, Tommy Como and Satchel Paige

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

  

Josh Q. Public:  I am a patriot, and I love my country.  Because my country is all I know.  -Pearl Jam

Public Service Announcement:  OK, here we go!  What’s crack-a-lacking sports fans?  Happy Memorial Day.  From the Halls of Montezuma.  To the shores of Tripoli.  We will fight our country’s battles.  In the air, on land and sea.  Ted Williams fought our country’s battles.  Ted Williams fought our country’s battles and still put up some pretty impressive numbers.  Still put up some pretty gaudy numbers.  Still put up some pretty ridiculous numbers.  You know the numbers.  It’s murder by numbers, one, two, three.  It’s as easy to learn as your ABCs.  521 dings.  Lifetime .344 batting average.  1,839 base knocks.  Two Triple Crowns.  Two!  You hear that Josh Hamilton?  How ’bout you Lance Berkman?  All-time leader with a .483 on base percentage.  A career .634 slugging percentage.  Last player to hit .400.  I’m looking at you Chipper.  Unbelievable, right?  Greatest hitter ever, right?  I’m that star up in the sky.  I’m that mountain peak up high.  Hey I made it, mmmmmm.  I’m the world’s greatest.  Still, the question remains.  What would those impressive, gaudy, ridiculous numbers look like if Teddy Ballgame did not sacrifice himself for this great land of ours?  What if he did not did not sacrifice his baseball legacy for this great land of ours?  Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together - mass hysteria.  What if he did not give up the prime of his baseball life to enlist into the US Navy?  The US Navy.  Life, liberty and the pursuit of all who threaten it.  What if he did not give up the prime of his baseball life to enlist into World War II?  To re-enlist into the Marine Corps?  Semper Fi.  Do or Die.  To re-enlist into the Marine Corps and fly combat missions in Korea?  I want to fly like an eagle.  To the sea.  Fly like an eagle.  Let my spirit carry me.  I want to fly like an eagle.  Till I’m free.  Till we’re all free.  What if?  We could extrapolate.  We could interpolate.  We could.  I’m not gonna.  That’s not what I’m here for today.  I am here to honor the soldier.  I am here to honor the naval officer.  The Marine.  The bomber pilot.  While men like Roger Clemens squirm over the steroid issue, a man like the Thumper risked his life so men like Roger Clemens could squirm over the steroid issue. 

1942.  36 homers.  137 RBI’s.  .356 batting average.  Yowza!  Led the league in on-base percentage, slugging percentage, runs, total bases, walks.  All-Star.  Triple Crown.  Best around.  Fenway Faithful jumping up and down.  The best hitter in baseball.  1943.  WWII.  Pearl Harbor.  Teddy Ballgame enlists into the US Navy to fight the ####’s.  Holy smokes!  What a man, what a man, what a man, what a mighty good man.  He could have taken a cushy assignment.  He could have played baseball for the Navy team in Hawaii somewhere.  Nope.  Flight school.  It was there it was discovered Ted had 20/10 vision.  It was there Teddy received his wings and commission in 1944.  Well, I don’t know but I’ve been told those Navy wings are made of gold.  Rose to the rank of Captain.  While awaiting orders as a replacement pilot, the war ended.  Back to baseball.  Back to all that is good.  Back to the most special place in all the world.  Like my man Buck Weaver always says, “You get out there, and the stands are full and everybody’s cheerin’.  It’s like everybody in the world come to see you.  And inside of that there’s the players, they’re yakkin’ it up.  The pitcher throws and you look for that pill… suddenly there’s nothing else in the ballpark but you and it.  Sometimes, when you feel right, there’s a groove there, and the bat just eases into it and meets that ball.  When the bat meets that ball and you feel that ball just give, you know it’s going to go a long way.  Damn, if you don’t feel like you’re going to live forever.”  Teddy sure played like he was going to live forever.  MVP after batting crown after All-Star appearance after MVP.  The best hitter that’s ever been borned.  Korea.  The Splendid Splinter is recalled into active service.  The Splendid Splinter flew F-9 Panther jets.  The Splendid Splinter flew thirty-seven combat missions.  The Splendid Splinter took enemy fire three times.  The Splendid Splinter crash landed his plane and saved his crew.  The Splendid Splinter flew with John Glenn.  John Glenn:  ‘’There was no one more dedicated to this country and more proud to serve his country than Ted Williams.’’  The Splendid Splinter received an Air Medal and two Gold Stars for his service.   The Splendid Splinter:  ‘’I was no hero.  There were nearly seventy-five pilots in our squadrons, and 99 percent of them did a better job than I did.’’  The Kid went back to baseball at age 35.  The Kid played seven more seasons.  In 1957, at the age of 38, Williams may have had the best year of his legendary career.  He led the league with a .388 batting average.  He hit 38 dings.  It has been estimated that Ted lost 561 hits, 103 bombs, and 382 RBI during his first stint in the service.  So this week end, Memorial Day week end, with all this talk about steroids and asterisks,  I ask you, what about war heroes and asterisks? 

Public Acknowledgements:

I’d like to take this opportunity to honor all those who fought so heroically to defend our country all over the world.  Here are just some of those brave men:  

Pat Tillman:  Arizona Cardinals.  Relinquished a multi-million dollar contract to join the Army with the professed goal of making it as a Ranger.  I want to be an airborne ranger.  Livin’ a life of heck and danger.  In this era of pampered, million-dollar ballplayers, he was a throwback to an earlier age.  Rest In Peace.

Bullet Bob Feller:  Became the first major leaguer to volunteer for active duty.  Enlisted in the Navy two days after the attack on Pearl Harbor.  Anti-aircraft gunner.  Battleship Alabama.  Fought at Tarawa, Iwo Jima.  Fought in the Marshall Islands.  For his service, he earned five campaign ribbons and eight Battle Stars.  Despite losing four years to the war, Bullet Bob won 266 games.  Struck out 2,581 batters.  Played 18-years.  Three no-hitters.  A dozen one-hitters. 

Yogi Berra:  Navy.  Stationed aboard a rocket launcher off the coast of Normandy Beach just after D-Day.  On a techno D-day, a techno D-day.  Out on Omaha Beach where the troops believe in a life of freedom.

Hoyt Wilhelm: Pitched his knuckle ball in more than a thousand games.  Guard your grill, knuckle up.  I ain’t the type to give up.  Guard your grill, knuckle up.  Knuckling up to become the first closer to enter the Hall.  Earned a Purple Heart in the Battle of the Bulge.

Warren Spahn:  Braves.  Spahn and Sain and pray for rain. Came too close to making the ultimate sacrifice.  Injured during the Remagen Bridge collapse.  WWII.

Others who served in WWII:  Enos Slaughter, Dizzy Dean, Larry Doby, who fought for America even while America didn’t fight for him.  Gil Hodges, Bobby Jones, Jack Dempsey and Gene Tunney.

Professional football players answered the call as well.  638 NFL players served in World War II.  355 were commissioned as officers.  66 were decorated.  21 lost their lives.  

Al Blozis:  Offensive tackle for the New York Giants.  Selected by the UPI as one of three outstanding athletes of 1941.  On his first patrol.  Less than two months after playing his last football  game.  Killed in the Vosges Mountains in a skirmish during the Battle of the Bulge.  Lieutenant Alfred Blozis was 26. 

Vietnam Reserves:  Boston Red Sox pitcher Jim Lonborg.  New York Mets Tom Seaver, Nolan Ryan and second baseman Ken Boswell.  New York Knicks stars Cazzie Russell and Bill Bradley. 

Rocky Bleier:  Trying hard now.  It’s so hard now.  Trying hard now.  Vietnam.  Helped the Steel Curtain win four Super Bowls.  Drafted into the Army.  Infantryman.  Suffered crippling wounds in both legs.  Hit by enemy rifle fire and shrapnel.  Could barely walk let alone run.  After two agonizing years recovering from his wounds, Rocky went on to a stellar 12-year career in the NFL.

Roger Staubach:  Hall of Fame quarterback.  Dallas Cowboys.  US Naval Academy.  Served in the Vietnam theater of operations. 

Willie Miller: Wide receiver.  Played in the Super Bowl with the Los Angeles Rams.  Vietnam.

Charlie Johnson:  Defensive tackle for the Philadelphia Eagles.  Vietnam.

Bob Kalsu:  He started eight games at guard in 1968.  Buffalo Bills’ top rookie.   Entered the Army to satisfy his ROTC obligation in November of 1969.  Vietnam.  Killed in action on July 21, 1970 at Fire Base Ripcord near the A Shau Valley. 

Al Bumbry:  Baltimore Orioles outfielder.  Vietnam.  Led an infantry platoon.  All of his men made it home.  The men will cheer and the boys will shout.  Bring ‘em home, bring ‘em home.  Yeah, and we will all turn out.  Bring ‘em home, bring ‘em home!

Ed Figueroa:  Pitcher, California Angels and New York Yankees.  Vietnam.

Willie Mays:  The Say Hey Kid.  US Army.  Korean Conflict. 

Eddie Grant:  The only major league baseball player to have given his life for his country.  Died in the Argonne Forest on October 5, 1918, fighting in World War I.  Rest in Peace.

Moe Berg:  Catcher.  One of America’s most effective spies in World War II.

Lou Brissie:  Pitcher. Indians and A’s.  Bronze Star and two Purple Hearts in Europe.  Nearly lost a leg to a German artillery shell.  After twenty-three operations and an excruciating rehabilitation, Lou was back pitching in the bigs in 1947.

Al Hrabowski:  The Mad Hungarian.  Relief pitcher.  Served in Vietnam.

David Robinson:  San Antonio Spurs, center.   Attended the U.S. Naval Academy and served a two-year military commitment before joining the NBA. 

Jerry Coleman:  MVP.  2nd baseman.  Yankees.  Marine aviator.  Korea and WWII.

Other ballplayers in the Korean Conflict: Whitey Ford, Don Newcomb, Don Larson, Bobby, Brown, Bob Kennedy, Curt Simmons and Whitey Herzog.

Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty.  -John F. Kennedy.  

These men believed.  Countless others not mentioned did as well.  Heroes all.

Public Spectacle: 

Peace out homies.  Six two and even!