It’s something unpredictable, but in the end is right. I hope you had the time of your life. -Green Day
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! I’ve been an ardent supporter of Manny. I truly have. I’ve said he’s the best right handed hitter I’ve ever seen. The best right handed there’s ever been. Bigger than Yitzhak Rabin. But, like my main man Popeye, I’ve had all I can stands and I can’t stands no more.
Manny Ramirez could have gone down as the most important player in Red Sox history. The most important player in Red Sox history. More important than the Splendid Splinter. More important than Yaz. More important than anybody. A World Series MVP will do that. 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. Three or four rings? Fuhgettaboutit! But instead, Manny bailed on his team. Bailed, just when they needed him most. He complained of a Sonny Liston knee injury and pulled himself out of games. He shoved aged Red Sox traveling secretary Jack McCormick to the ground. He lollygagged the ball around the outfield. He lollygagged his way down to first. He lollygagged in and out of the dugout. He lollygagged his way right out of Boston and I’m just sick about it.
Now, I ain’t giving up quite yet, but after watching Tuesday night’s shellacking at the hands of the Tampa Bay Rays I’ve come to my wit’s end. My wit’s end! Manny Ramirez’s fifth-inning single Monday, gave him seven hits in eight at-bats with runners in scoring position this postseason. Only two other players in history have had seven hits over eight postseason at-bats with runners in scoring position. Meanwhile, the Red Sox are 6-for-34 in those situations against the Rays. It’s a travesty. It’s a travesty of a mockery of a sham of a mockery of a travesty of two mockeries of a sham.
Manny went 2-for-3 with a walk in Game Five. He concluded the postseason with a .520 batting average, a .667 on-base percentage, and a slugging average of 1.080. He had 13 hits in 25 at-bats with two doubles, four homers and 11 walks. Big deal you say? Who cares you say? I say, each and every one of those averages is the highest by a player in a single postseason. Yowza! Think the Sox could use that bat? You betcha! But noooo. Manny had his mind on his money and his money on his mind. Are we surprised? After all, he did leave Cleveland’s love for the love of Boston’s money. It’s just deja vu all over again.
So has been his prowess this post season. Manny’s .520 batting average is the highest for any of the 1,118 major leaguers who had as many as 25 at-bats in one postseason. He beat Billy Hatcher’s old record by one point. Ramirez’s 1.080 slugging average is the highest among the same group of 25-at-bat players, surpassing Carlos Beltran. Manny’s .667 on-base percentage is the highest among any of the 1,352 players who had at least 25 plate appearances in a single postseason, surpassing the Big Hurt. That’s what makes this all so frustrating. I love Jason Bay as much as the next guy, but, Senator, you’re no Manny Ramirez. Don’t believe me? Just ask Big Papi. Senor Octubre is mired in the slump of all slumps without Manny’s big bopper of a bat proticting him in the line-up.
I understand I am still bitter by the way things went down. I understand baseball is a business. I just wish things went down differently. I just wish Manny were still around to keep the Red Sox in the business of winning.
Don’t you know I’m still standing. Better than I ever did. Looking like a true survivor. Feeling like a little kid. I’m still standing. After all this time. Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind. -Elton John
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! What’s that? Uh — Playoffs? Don’t talk about — playoffs? You kidding me? Playoffs? I just hope we can win a game! On Sunday night, the New York Yankees will play their final game at The House That Ruth Built. The New York Yankees will play their final game at The House That Ruth Built in an absotively, posolutely, meaningless game. As me, you, and Roberto Kelly know, the Yankees have been in the postseason every year since 1995. Every year. Derek Jeter has been in the postseason every year since 1995. Every year. Hip Hip Jorge has been in the postseason every year since 1995. Every year. The Sandman has been in the postseason every year since 1995. Every year. Not this year. Kid, this just ain’t your night. It’s Joe Torre’s night though. Joe Torre gets the title shot outdoors at the ballpark and what do the Bombers get? A one-way ticket to Palooka-ville!
Joe Torre’s Dodgers have been on a 12-2 September tear that’s catapulted them all the way to the top NL West. On top of the world looking down on creation. Meanwhile, back in the Bronx, the hapless Yankees are sleepwalking through the end of a hollow season. I’m a sleepwalker. I’m a night stalker. I’m a street walker. I’m a night hawker. Sleepwalking all the way to the golf course while one team member muttered, “It looked like we quit.” The Dodgers haven’t quit. Joe Torre hasn’t quit.
When the Joe Torre Era ended at Legends Field one year ago, the Yankees let go the second winningest manager in their history and a four-time World Series champion to boot. And with Joe, went the dynasty. Kiss Blake Carrington good-bye. I’d prefer Sammy Jo Dean Carrington, but to each his own. From 1995-2007, the Yankees had one manager and gone to six World Series. In the twelve years before that, they had eight managers and went to none. In the one year after, the Yankees have not done well. Not well at all. The Dodgers have.
Joe Torre is marching the injury-riddled Dodgers straight into the playoffs. Joe Torre is marching the injury-riddled Dodgers to more victories than the vaunted New York Yankees. When Johnny comes marching home again, hoorah! Hoorah! The men will cheer, the boys will shout. The ladies they will all turn out. Turning out now all right. The way Torre has Manny Ramirez and the rest of Dem Bums playing hard every day, these Dodgers are one scary bunch to be facing in the playoffs. One very scary bunch. One banana, two banana, three banana, four. Four bananas make a bunch, and so do many more. So while the Yankees post season stretch halts at twelve, one guy is looking to lucky number thirteen.
Public Acknowledgements: Jim Mora, Ned Flanders, On the Waterfront, Carpenters, Kinks, Dynasty and the Banana Splits
It’s your thing. Do what you wanna do. I can’t tell you who to sock it to. -Isley Brothers
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! First thing’s first. I’m a Manny fan. Like Neil Young always says: The king is gone but he’s not forgotten. But once you’re gone, you can never come back. When you’re out of the blue and into the black. No Manny Ramirez is not walking through that door, fans. But I like him still.
I don’t like the way he went out. Not one bit. I do like the two rings he brought to Boston. I did like having the best right handed hitter in baseball backing up Big Papi. Liked it a lot. But now he’s gone. That’s life, that’s what all the people say. You’re riding high in April. Shot down in May. But Manny changed that tune. Now that he’s back on top, back on top in June September.
Know this, Manny was brought to Tinseltown for one reason and one reason only. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, involves catching the Diamondbacks. As always, should any member of your team be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow all knowledge of your actions. This message will sel####estruct in five seconds. Mission accomplished.
August 1st, the Dodgers were sitting two back of Arizona with a .500 record. Today, thanks to Mr. Ramirez, LA is four games over .500 enjoying a 3 1/2 game lead in the NL West. 3 1/2 games up because Manny rakes. Cleveland. Boston. LA. Manny rakes. Good times. Manny rakes. Bad times. 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 what Manny being Manny is really all about. You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around. That’s what it’s all about!
Check this out. Last night, Manny had two bombs and four RBIs in the Dodgers’ 7-2 win at San Diego. That brings Manny’s numbers up to fourteen bombs and forty RBIs in his thirty-eight games with the Dodgers. That makes him the first mid-season acquisition to put up such gaudy numbers in his first forty games with a new team since 1949. Since 1949. Since Hank Sauer. Since the Mayor of Wrigley Field. Da Mayor don’t bother nobody and nobody no bother da Mayor. Nobody bothered da Mayor back in ‘49. Da Mayor had fifteen dings and forty-seven RBIs in his first forty games with the Cubs after coming over in a mid-June trade from the Reds back in ‘49. But that’s only half the story. Half the story morning glory. You need a little time to wake up. Wake up and smell the Manny. Over the last eighty years or so only eight guys have ever had those kinds of stats in their forty games with a new team. Manny’s done it twice. Twice! Get the papers, get the papers.
So, say what you want bout Manny. The greatest right handed hitter to ever don a Red Sox uniform has done did it again. The greatest right handed hitter in the history of baseball has done did it again. Manny Ramirez has done did it again. Last night, his pair of two-run home runs crushed over the fence in right-center 400 feet away from home plate proved what a difference maker this guy truly is. MVP! MVP! MVP!
Public Acknowledgements: Rick Pitino, Frank Sinatra, Mission Impossible, Do the Right Thing, Oasis and Goodfellas
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Do you know what we get to do today Brooks? We get to play baseball! At long last. NLCS starts tonight. Like my main man Earl Weaver always says: No one’s gonna give a damn in July if you lost a game in March. Or October for that matter. That’s why I’m liking the Rockies. Seventeen out of their last eighteen. Roll up, roll up for the magical mystery tour. Step right this way. Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour. The Rockies Magical Mystery tour featuring three of the brightest young stars in the game. There’s a lot of lights out there. It’s very sparkly. Very twinkly. Very sparkly. Looks like a holiday. Looks like a Matt Holliday. Matt Holliday. MVP! MVP! MVP! The best player in this series. His numbers put him near the top of the list of the game’s top players. On top of the world looking down on creation. Holliday led the NL in average. Holliday led the NL in RBIs. Holliday led the NL in doubles. Holliday led the NL in total bases and was fourth in home runs. He will be in the thick of it. The thick of an extremely tight MVP vote. The Rockies also have Troy Trevor Tulowitzki. ROY! ROY! ROY! During the regular season, Tulowitzki batted .291. He batted .291 and set an NL record for rookie shortstops with twenty-four home runs. But he’s not all bat. He’s got glove. What is glove? Oh baby, don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me no more. He’s gonna hurt you some more. Hurt you enough to insert himself into the Gold Glove discussion. And know this sports fans: No rookie at his position has ever won it in either league. Yowza! Then there’s pitcher Jeff Francis. Cy Young! Cy Young! Cy Young! Maybe not, but his brilliant pitching of late is one of the main reasons the Rockies are in the position they are in. In the position of taking National League Pennant. Once again Colorado turns to a skinny Canadian kid to keep the ball rolling. Keep the ball out of controlling. Keep the ball heart and souling. Last week, in the first postseason start of his career, Francis pitched the Rockies to victory over the Philadelphia Phillies. The Fightin’ Phills. This week, he is sprawled all over the cover of Sports Illustrated. It’s the thrill that’ll getcha when you get your picture on the cover of the Rolling Stone. Wanna see my picture on the cover. Wanna buy five copies for my mother. Wanna see my smilin’ face on the cover of the Rolling Stone. If things keep going the way they are, Francis may see his smiling face in the World Series. He may see his smiling face there because the Rockies are built to be there. Pitching and defense. Defense and pitching. And, oh ya, they can the ball too. Do you know what we get to do today Brooks? We get to play baseball! And not a moment too soon.
Public Acknowledgements: Denver Post, The Rookie, Beatles, Rain Man, The Carpenters, Haddaway and Dr. Hook
Public Spectacle: Todays episode of Josh Q. Public powered by Coors
Josh Q. Public:Down…The paint is peelin’. Now…When the chips are down. Down…You gotta lose all feelin’. Now…when the chips are down. Down…Your head goes round ‘n’ round. -Terror Squad
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! I love baseball. I never got to bat in the major leagues. I would have liked to have had that chance. Just once. To stare down a big league pitcher. To stare him down, and just as he goes into his windup, wink. Make him think you know something he doesn’t. That’s what I wish for. Chance to squint at a sky so blue that it hurts your eyes just to look at it. To feel the tingling in your arm as you connect with the ball. To run the bases - stretch a double into a triple, and flop face-first into third, wrap your arms around the bag. That’s my wish, Ray Kinsella. That’s my wish. And is there enough magic out there in the moonlight to make this dream come true? Yes there is, Archie. Yes there is. The 200 men representing eight cities will create enough magic to make all our dreams true. MLB baseball. MLB Playoff baseball. It’s why we hung around so long. We hung around so long to hear stuff like: There’s a long drive… It’s gonna be, I believe….. The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant! WAHOO! Bobby Thomson hits into the lower deck, of the left field stands! The Giants win the pennant, and they’re goin’ crazy! They’re goin’ crazy! Heeeey-oh! We hung around so long to hear stuff like: Deep to left! Yastrzemski will not get it — it’s a home run! A three-run home run for Bucky Dent and the Yankees now lead by the score of 3-2! Bucky Dent has just hit his fourth home run of the year and look at that Yankees bench out to greet him. We hung around so long to hear stuff like: Ortiz into deep right field, back is Sheffield, we’ll see you later tonight! What kind of stuff are we gonna hear this year?
Rockies Phillies: September 13. The Rockies leave the City Of Brotherly Love after a two game split. Even Steven. Kissing your sister. Yichhh! So, we meet again? Meet again three weeks and two incredible stories later. The Rockies and the Fighting Phills will attempt to prolong their epic dramas in a best-of-five National League Division Series. So what will we hear? Will we hear: Matt Holliday! That ball is going and it ain’t coming back! Matt Holliday. MVP! MVP! MVP! Matt Holliday. The hero of the play-in game. The one for everything. For all the marbles. All the starbles. All the Yougoslavian Dinarbles. All the come and get one in the yarbles, if ya have any yarbles. Matt Holliday capped his superstar season by obliterating twelve years of futility and irrelevancy. Is that what we’ll hear? Or will we hear this: Swing…and a long drive, watch this baby, outta here! Home run. Jimmy Rollins. The real MVP! MVP! MVP! The Mets had a chance to win the World Series last year. Last year is over. I think we are the team to beat in the NL East, finally. Jimmy talked the talk. Jimmy walked the walk. These cleats are made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do. One of these days these cleats are gonna walk all over you. I say these cleats walk all over the Rockies.
Diamondbacks Cubs: The Diamondbacks posted the best record in the National League. The Cubs are the team everybody’s pulling for. The Diamondbacks won ninety games. Nobody knows how they expect to compete against the Cubs. That’s why they play the games. So what will it be? Will it be: Long drive…way back…warning track…wall…you can touch em’ all, Jeff Sazlazar. Huh? Jeff Slalazar? Yup. Jeff Salazar. Reserve outfielder Jeff Salazar. Pinch hitting Jeff Salazar. Bernie Carbo style. Jeff Salazar saved the season. Saved the season back on September 10. Scratched from the lineup because of a sore ankle, Salazar came on to deliver a pinch-hit three-run bomb in the ninth inning to give Arizona a 5-3 win at San Francisco. That pinch-hit three-run bomb solidified the season for the Baby Backs. And it’s contributions like that, from everybody, that make these guys what they are. A T-E-A-M. Nine players on the field functioning as one single unit: team, team, team - no one more important that the other. Or might we hear this: That ball is driven way back…outta here! Derrek Lee! 2006 was not a very good year for Lee. Broken wrist. Cubs go 19-40 in his absence. His three-year-old daughter was diagnosed with Leber’s congenital amaurosis, a rare genetic disease resulting in loss of vision. This year’s been a lot better. Batted over .400 for most of the first two months of the season. The heart and power of the Cubs line-up. Late season power surge. If Lee gets going, like he was two seasons ago, there’s no one on the other team that can match him. He has the ability to put this team on his back and carry them to the next round by himself. That being said, I like the D-Backs here.
Yankees Indians: Three of the four highest-payroll teams in the American League will be in the playoffs. The fourth playoff team ranks second-to-last in payroll in the AL. That fourth team is the Indians. Don’t get me wrong. I have no problems with spending. None. But What Mark Shapiro did with this team is nothing short of remarkable. Nothing. What will we hear in this one? Will it be this: Swing and a drive, deep to center, a WAAAAAAAAAAAAY back - GONE! Trot Nixon! Yup. Old friend Trot. Bo may know some things. Bo knows this. What? And Bo knows that. What? But Bo don`t know jack, cause Bo can`t rap. Bo may know this and that, but Trot knows the Yankees. For eight years of his career he played against them nineteen times a season as a member of the Red Sox. The Yankees went 6-0 against the Indians during the regular season. Nixon hit .429 against them. Something to think about. Or will we hear this: Swung on and there it goes! That ball is high! It is far! It is…Gone! An A-Bomb. From A-Broad! A-Broad’s Yankees legacy depends on it. He was the man during the regular season. A rock at third base. A nightmare in the heart of the New York order. But if he does nothing in this post-season, none of it matters. You saw what happened last fall. Last fall, Rodriguez stumbled and bumbled through the division series against Detroit. Stumbled and bumbled and got dropped in the order. I don’t see that happening this year. I don’t see the Yankees winning either.
Red Sox Angels: Saving the best for last. Last year, no soup for us! This year, I couldn’t be happier. But happy doesn’t pay the piper. Happy doesn’t feed the baby. Happy doesn’t walk the dog. The Sox went wire to wire in the division. We need them to go wire to wire in the post season. Anything else is failure. We need to hear: …swing and there it goes…light tower power for Manny Ramirez! We need Manny to be Manny. We know what Big Papi will do. What Big Papi always does. But we need Manny. He is a difference maker. An earth quaker. A pitcher shaker. We need him, and I think we’ll get him. I don’t need to hear this: And the halo shines tonight! Oh my! I don’t need to see Vladdy shine tonight or any other night. He strikes fear in the heart of men. Strikes fear in every part of men. Strikes fear in the Rene Descartes of men. I’m hoping against hope fear strikes out. I’m hoping he is as ####ed up as I hope he is. I’m picking the Sox. Anything else would be blasphemy.
Public Acknowledgements: Field of Dreams, Russ Hodges, Bill White, Joe Buck, Rocky Mountain News, Jeff Kingery, Clockwork Orange, Harry Kalas, Nancy Sinatra, Greg Schulte, Hoosiers, Len Kasper, Cleveland Plain Dealer, Tom Hamilton, Tribe Called Quest, John Sterling, Jerry Trupiano, #### Enberg and Jimmy Piersall
Josh Q. Public:And the Colorado Rocky Mountain high. I’ve seen it rainin’ fire in the sky. I know he’d be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly. Rocky Mountain high. -John Denver
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Lookie, lookie here. The Colorado Rockies. Not the Wilf Paiement Rockies. Not the Chico Resch Rockies. We’re not talking hockey. We’re talking baseball. Baseball baby. Pennant chase baseball. I believe in the Church of Baseball. The only church that truly feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the Church of Baseball. I believe in the Colorado Rockies. Day in and day out, the Colorado Rockies have been feeding my soul. Got a feeling inside. It’s a certain kind. I feel hot and cold. Yeah, down in my soul, yeah. Yeah, I got a feeling about these Colorado Rockies. And unlike the Who, I can explain. The Rockies are trying to win this thing. Doing everything they can to win this thing. They just won ten straight. Won a franchise-record ten straight to keep themselves tied with the Phillies. Tied with the Fighting Phills a mere one game back of the Padres in the Wild Card. But that’s not enough. Not enough stuff. They want it all. They want the Marshmallow Fluff. Don’t look now, but the Rockies are just two little games behind the D-Backs for the West lead. Oh my! The Rockies have been to the playoffs just once in their 15 years of existence. As the Wild Card in 1995. The Larry Walker Rockies. The Dante Bichette Rockies. The Big Cat Rockies. These 2007 Rockies are a new breed. Dig the new breed. Dig Beltin‘ Todd Helton. Beautiful swing. Will the Thrill swing. It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing. Know this: Without Beltin’ Todd Helton’s walkoff home run nine days ago, there is no winning streak. In September, he has batted .402 with 18 RBIs. Yowza! Dig Troy Trevor Tulowitzki. Triple play Troy Trevor Tulowitzki. Tu-lo-git. Tu-lo-git to quit. Rookie Sensation. Scaring the nation with his guns and ammunition. NL Rookie of the Month for August. Gold Glove candidate. Leads all rookies in runs, RBIs and total bases. Dig Matt Holliday. MVP! MVP! MVP!Tough guy Matt Holliday. I am a tuh tuh tuh tuh tough tough guy. Halo round my head to tough to die. Strained left oblique muscle. Strained left oblique muscle during the last week of a stretch of eleven home runs in thirteen games. He hasn’t got time for the pain. Dig the Rockies defense. On their way to the highest fielding percentage in major-league history. Goodness! If you saw Tuesday’s night’s Web Gems, you know what I’m talking about Willis. Down 6-5. Andre Ethier. Flyball. Deep center. Cory Sullivan makes the grab. Rockets the ball to the plate. Yorvit Torrealba blocks home plate. Tom Nalen style. Jeff Kent. Yerrrr out! Double play. How about that? How about this? How bout the Rockies bullpen? The Rockies wouldn’t be in this playoff race without the bullpen’s finishing kick. He punches like a #### mule kicks. Entering Wednesday, Colorado’s relievers had a 2.86 ERA during the streak. Jeremy Affeldt, Brian Fuentes and Manny Corpas have been pitching out of their minds. Make no mistakes sports fans, these Colorado Rockies are for real. Four games remain. God, I love this game.
Public Acknowledgements: Denver Post, Bull Durham, The Jam, Cab Calloway, The Clash, Ramones, Carly Simon, Different Strokes, Mel Allen and Mike Tyson
Josh Q. Public:Yo back up now and give a brother room. The fuse is lit and I’m about to go boom. Boom! Shake-shake-shake the room. Tic-tic-tic-tic boom! -Fresh Prince
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! The Boomer. The shake the roomer. Like Mazda, the zoom zoom zoomer. Like Arnold, it’s not a tumor. Unable to obtain a proven starter, Dem Bums addressed their beleaguered pitching staff woes by reaching a tentative contract agreement with free agent David Wells. Great move by the Dodgers. Great move. Why not take a flier out on this cat? They ain’t out of it yet. Just two and a half back in the Wild Card standings. Hey, he may not be a world beater anymore. He may have given up twenty-six runs in his final 16 2/3 innings with the Padres. He may have ended up with a 5-8 record and a 5.54 ERA. He may have done all that, but this guy can still find the strike zone. He’s a three-time All-Star who led the American League in wins in 2000. No small feat. He has 235 victories in a 21-year career. Just one shy behind Whitey Ford for 12th all-time among left-handers. But most importantly, most importantly, he pitches big in big games on the big stage. I’ve had enough, I’m getting out. To the city, the big big city. I’ll be a big noise with all the big boys. Big time. So much larger than life. Larger than life in twenty-seven postseason games. Larger than life winning an American League Championship Series MVP Award. Larger than life with World Series rings from both the New York Yankees and the Toronto Blue Jays. He’s been there. He’s done that. He can do it again. And know this sports fans. He’s coming cheap. Very cheap. The Dodgers are required to pay only $80,000 of the $1 million left on his guaranteed contract, with the Padres picking up the rest. What a bargain! Nobody beats the Wiz! Especially when you consider Jason Schmidt, who made just six starts, hasn’t pitched in more than two months and left-hander Randy Wolf has been out since the first week of July. The Dodgers have trotted Brett Tomko out to the mound. The Dodgers have trotted Mark Hendrickson out to the mound. The Dodgers have trotted rookie Eric Stults out to the mound. They even trotted left-hander Hong-Chih Kuo out there before he went down with elbow surgery. Why not trot out the Boomer. Why not trot out a guy with a perfect game under his belt. With a skull rattling hangover, yet. Why not trot out a strike throwing machine. Why not trot out a money pitcher who’s the most money in the moniest of games. You’re so money and you don’t even know it! You know what you are? You’re like a big bear with claws and with fangs. Why not send out this big bear with claws and fangs. Why not try and win a pennant?
Public Acknowledgements: LA Times, Kindergarten Cop, Peter Gabriel, Seinfeld and Swingers
Josh Q. Public: I’m not the guy who cared about love. And I’m not the guy who cared about fortunes and such. I never cared much. Oh, look at me now! -Frank Sinatra
Public Service Announcement: Ok here we go! I love my Baby Backs, Baby Backs, Baby Backs. Yup, it’s the Arizona Baby Backs. If you wanna roll in my Mercedes then turn around! Stick it out! Even white boys got to shout, baby got back! Arizona’s got back all right. Everbody was San Diego Padreing. Everybody was LA Roger Dodgering. Nobody, I mean nobody, was Arizona Diamondbacking. They are now. How could they not be? The Diamondbacks are tearing up the National League. Tearing those mieces to pieces. Seventeen out of their last twenty-one. Just had a four game win streak stymied at the hands of the lowly Nationals but are still playing lights out. Still leading the fights out. Still shining brights out. They still boast the NL’s best record at 67-52. They still have a three game lead over San Diego. You are still the one that makes me shout. Still the one that I dream about. We’re still having fun, and you’re still the one. Brandon Webb’s still the one. Last Year’s Cy Young Award winner. Last year’s Cy Young Award winner last seen hurling a complete game shutout. A five hit, ten strikeout, complete game shutout. Whoa Nelly! That’s nothing. Webb has just extended his consecutive scoreless innings streak to a club record thirty-three straight innings. Yowza! That’s four straight games. That’s something. Something special. Twenty-six more and he passes Orel. The original Bull Dog. Brandon Webb and his nauseating sinkerball are now 12-8. Brandon Webb and his repugnant sinkerball now have a 2.77 ERA. Mix in a revolting curve ball and a gruesome change-up and, you get a guy who is going to win the Cy every year. Every year. The Diamondbacks are 20-9 and have won eight of nine series since the All-Star break. The Diamondbacks have made themselves the team to beat in the National League. No small thanks to one Mr. Brandon Webb. I said Blue Moon of Kentucky keep on shining. As long as this blue moon of Kentucky keeps on shining, the Diamondbacks future is bright.
Public Acknowledgements: Applebees, Sir-Mix-A-Lot, Pixie and Dixie, Orleans and Elvis Presley
Josh Q. Public: I’ve seen the needle and the damage done. A little part of it in everyone. But every junkie’s like a settin’ sun. Ooh, ooh, the damage done. -Neil Young
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Barry Lamar Bonds. Finally. It’s over. It’s all over! Johnny Havlicek is being mobbed by the fans. It’s all over! Johnny Havlicek stole the ball! Yup, Barry Bonds stole the title. Like a petty car thief. Out on a mission a stolen car mission. Had a little problem with the transmission. I could have lived with it. Could have accepted it and moved on. Then I heard it. Seems that I was busy doing something close to nothing. But different than the day before. That’s when I saw her, ooh, I saw her. She walked in through the out door, out door. That’s when I heard the sound byte. The sound byte that is still resonating through my little pea brain. “This record is not tainted at all,” Bonds had the audacity to say. ”At all.” Couldn’t he have let dead dogs lie? Michael Vick style. No, he couldn’t. “This record is not tainted at all. At all.” Are you out of your cotton pickin’ mind, Barry? Huh? Are you? You must be. You know you’re speaking out the side of your gargantuan melon that sits atop your behemoth of a body. Seventy-three home runs since the age of forty. Moving you into the lead for the most in baseball history. Taint: A trace of something bad, offensive, or harmful. A trace of infection, contamination, or the like. A trace of dishonor or discredit. To modify by or as if by a trace of something offensive or deleterious. To infect, contaminate, corrupt, or spoil. To sully or tarnish. Guilty of all charges. Bonds apologists may say I’m out of order. I say: You’re out of order! You’re out of order! The whole trial is out of order! Bonds used. No argument can convince me otherwise. Look at his head for goodness sakes. I’m not kidding, it’s like an orange on a toothpick. That’s a huge noggin. That’s a virtual planetoid. Has it’s own weather system. That man’s head is like Sputnik; spherical but quite pointy at parts! Now that was offsides, wasn’t it? He’ll be crying himself to sleep tonight, on his huge pillow. No he won’t. He don’t care. He got his dirty little record and now he wants us to join the party. I’m not biting. I know countless others have used. I know Tom House was “doing steroids they wouldn’t give to horses.” I know what happened to Ken Caminitti. I know guys like Rafael Palmiero, Jose Cansceco, Gary Sheffield and Jason Giambi used. I know they weren’t only ones. I don’t care. It does not make Barry any less guilty. He’s a cheater. He cheated. You know it. I know it. Greg Anderson rotting away in jail waiting for his Giant payday knows it. ####lord Perry threw spitballs. Teams have stolen signs. Men have corked bats. But when you’re chasing the holiest of holies you better be squeaky clean. No rationalization can Clear the taint.
Public Acknowledgements: Johnny Most, Webster’s, Beastie Boys, Prince, And Justice For All and So I Married an Axe Murderer.
Josh Q. Public:If You. If You. Wanna Know. Wanna Know. The real deal about the three. Well let me tell you, we’re triple trouble ya’ll. We’re gonna bring you up to speed. -Beastie Boys
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Has there ever been a more dour time in this Wide World of Sports? Has the agony of defeat ever been more agonizing? The Unholy Trinity of Barry Bonds, Tim Donaghy and Michael Vick have, as Commissioner David Stern put it, rocked our little safe haven to its very core. Sports have always been our escape. Our escape from reality. But these three may have ruined that. Back to life, back to reality. Back to the here and now. I cannot recall a lower point in professional sports in all my life. Sure there have been scandals before. Charlie Hustle out there hustling. Superstars Alex Karras and Paul Hornung betting on football. Baseball strikes. Football scabs. Hockey lockouts. They all seemed to threaten the sanctuary of sport. But this just seems worse. Maybe because its all happening at once. Maybe because these crimes all seem so heinous in comparison. Maybe because of all the non-stop sports coverage we are fed ad-nauseum. I don’t know. But times sure seem really tough right now. Ram tough. Just cut the stuff, til you get enough. ‘Cause we’re rougher than tougher and rougher than tough! Barry Bonds. The greatest hitter we have ever seen. Cheating his way to his the most hallowed of records. Making himself impossible to embrace. Actually creating great apathy while chasing the greatest of milestones there is. Michael Vick. Maybe the greatest rushing quarterback we have ever seen. The only quarterback in NFL history to rush for over 1,000 yards during the regular season. Committing atrocity after atrocity against man’s best friend. Essentially running an organized crime ring that profited off of such atrocities. Tim Donaghy, perhaps the worst perpetrator of all. Undoing what little trust was left in the NBA. A league official fixing basketball games is a violation that will take years to repair. A violation that will forever cast a shadow of doubt over the hardwoods. Jon Lester completed his triumphant battle over cancer the other night. The Yankees are finally making a run at this thing. An Irishman just won the British Open. Pitchers like Tom Glavine, Roger Clemens and Greg Maddux are throwing well into their forties in games that matter. My Red Sox are in first place. My Patriots just signed Randy Moss and Adalius Thomas. My Celtics just signed Jesus Shuttleworth. Unfortunately, none of these feel good stories can break through the muck and mire the Unholy Trinity has created. I hope they’re happy. I hope their selfish acts for money, fame and fun were worth it. It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right. I hope you had the time of your life. Good riddance. Good riddance Barry. I cannot wait until your steroid ridden body finally breaks down for the last time. Good riddance Michael Vick. I cannot wait for justice to be served and you are behind bars where you belong. Good riddance Tim Donaghy. I cannot wait for you to get your just desserts. For you to be punished for your sins against the great sport of basketball. Good riddance to all three of you. Now, how bout them Sox?
Public Acknowledgements: Jim McKay, Soul II Soul, Dodge, Run DMC and Green Day
Josh Q. Public: Rollin’ down the street, smokin indo, sippin’ on gin and juice. Laid back. With my mind on my money and my money on my mind. -Snoop Dogg
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! With Barry Bonds a few short hours and two big swings away from breaking the Hammer’s record, the nation’s mind can’t help but wander towards steroids. I am not here to chastise Bonds. I am here to clean up the steroids problem. Forget George Mitchell. Forget the feds. It’s time to bring in the big dogs. I am a big dog daddy. Yea a big dog daddy. Boys stand back and girls are gettin’ catty. Something goin’ down with the big dog daddy. It’s time to bring in Josh Q. Public. Yes, it’s time for me to get into the never ending battle for Truth, Justice and the American Way. I have only one stipulation. Just one implementation. Just one rule for the detoxification of sports nation. Allow me to test whoever I want, whenever I want. I can do anything, right or wrong. I can talk anyhow, and get along. Don’t care anyway, I never lose. Anyway, anyhow, anywhere I choose. Whoever I want. Whenever I want. Bonds head gets so big he needs a mailbox for a cap, I’m drawing blood. John J. Rambo style. Jeremy Shockey goes all crazy like with his helmet off after breaking a tackle for a five yard gain in an unwinnable game, I’m testing him. Serena Williams smashes a 200 mph serve, I’m testing her. Michelle Wie drives the ball a mile further than any man in sight, I’m testing her. Dustin Pedroia goes for three bombs in one game, I’m testing him. Shawne Merriman breaks out his lights out dance after smashing through two offensive lineman and sacking the quarterback, I’m testing him. Again. Every pro wrestler from John Cena to Candice to Umaga, I’m testing them. Everyday. If LaDainan Tomlinson, the Touchdown Maker, the Record Breaker, Mr. Everything, if he goes to the hizzy five times in one game, I’m testing him. No questions asked. Gary Sheffield goes on TV talking all kinds of nonsense, I’m testing him. So if you want this steroid problem fixed, you know who to call. Call me. Call me on the line. Call me call me any anytime. Call me my love you can call me any day or night. Call me. Call Josh Q. Public.
Public Acknowledgements: Toby Keith, The Amazing Superman, The Who, First Blood and Blondie.
Josh Q. Public:But don’t forget who’s taking you home and in whose arms you’re gonna be. So darlin’, save the last dance for me. -The Drifters
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Move over Eck. Move over Goose. Move over Mariano. Move it on over. Won’t'cha rock it on over. Move over cool dogs, a hot dog’s movin’ in. Trevor Hoffman’s moving in. Moving in front of the line. Moving in front of the closer conga line. Come on shake your body baby, do the conga. I know you can’t control yourself any longer. Trevor Hoffman can’t control himself any longer. Trevor Hoffman feels the rhythm of the music getting stronger. Just got his his 500th save. Five hundred! Yowza! Hell’s Bells! Hells bells, you got me ringing. Hells bells, my temperature’s high. Hell’s Bells, he already has the Major League record. Hell’s Bells, he already has seventeen saves this season. Hell’s Bells, he already has the most devastating change up in all of baseball. A disgusting, foul, rank, nauseating, repulsive palm ball. He uses the same arm speed he uses to throw his fastball. Mugs think it’s a fastball. It sure looks like a fastball. It sure smells like a fastball. It sure tastes like a fastball. But it ain’t a fastball. It’s a Bugs Bunny change. Watch me paste this pathetic palooka with a powerful paralyzing perfect pachyderms percussion pitch. Yerrrr out! I’m out? That’s what the man said, you heard the man…! Now Trevor has done it. He has just become the first player to ever hit 500. Ever. Rollie Fingers didn’t do it. Lee Smith didn’t do it. Sure times have changed. I understand the present now will soon be the past. The order is rapidly fading. The first one now will later be last. For the times, they are a-changing. But I also understand Mariano won’t do it. I also understand no other active player is even remotely close. You should understand he probably is the most underrated player in baseball today. You should also understand he will immediately go into the Hall of Fame. He will not pass go. He will not collect his two hundred dollars. He will retire as the best closer of all time. You better recognize! And dat’s de end.
Public Acknowledgements: George Thorogood, Gloria Estefan, Baseball Bugs, Bob Dylan and Monopoly.
Josh Q. Public:On the Dixie Cannonball. On the Dixie Cannonball. Just listen to the whistle, it’ll thrill you one and all. Just shut my mouth, I’m headin’ south, on the Dixie Cannonball. -Hank Williams
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Like my main man Steve Erkel always says: “Anybody got any cheese?” Jake Peavy gots himself some cheese. Cheese if you please. Cheese more mind boggling than Parkinson’s disease. Jake has some cheese all right. High cheese. Hard cheese. 100 miles per hour cheese. Sharp like cheddar. He pitches better. Had some sharp cheddar the other night. In his last start, Jake allowed a paltry three hits. A paltry three hits over seven scoreless innings. In seven scoreless innings, he was throwing that speedball by you. Making you look like a fool boy. Made the Cardinals look like fools boy. Goose got me loose. Gone on Patrone. Money in my pocket. And I’m all up in the zone like oooooooh Ima act a fool. Peavy was up in the zone. The Cardinals were acting a fool. Peavy struck out ten Red Birds to become the first pitcher in Padre history to strike out ten or more batters over four consecutive starts. Yowza! He also became the first pitcher in the modern era to record ten strikeouts in four straight games without pitching more than seven innings in any of them. Another Yowza! As a matter of fact, no pitcher has had four straight double-digit strikeout games regardless of his number of innings pitched since the Big Eunuch did it for the 2004 Diamondbacks. Yowza! Yowza! Yowza! Richie Cunningham style. Peavy has nasty stuff. Disgusting stuff. Revolting stuff. What a revoltin’ development this is! How revoltin’? Just ask Phat Albert Winnie the Pujols: ”He was filthy out there. Today was the first time I saw the ball real well against him and I still couldn’t get him.” Nobody’s been able to get him. Peavy is 5-1. Peavy leads all of baseball with sixty-six Ks. Sit on it Potsie. Peavy has the second best ERA in baseball at 1.52. Peavy is having a career year. He already has tied his franchise record with sixteen punchados back in April. He already threw a one hitter. He already is making his case to be the best pitcher in the world. The Dixie Cannonball.
Public Acknowledgements: Family Matters, Beastie Boys, ESPN, San Diego Union Tribune, Bruce Springsteen, Seymour Seywoff, Ludacris, Happy Days and The Life of Riley.
Josh Q. Public:Speed of lightning, roar of thunder. Fighting all who rob or plunder. Underdog. Underdog! -The Underdog Show
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go!. Look, up in the sky, it’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s a frog…a frog? Not bird, nor plane, nor even frog, it’s just little ole me, the O-Dog. Yup, just little ole him. Orlando Hudson. The best player no one is talking about. Knock ‘em down. Roll ‘em around. C’mon defense work! Work! Orlando Hudson works on defense. All you need is glove. All together now. All you need is glove. Everybody. All you need is glove, glove. Glove is all you need. The O-Dog gots glove. Lots of glove. It’s the glove you love. Hudson is renowned around the major leagues for his fielding prowess. In particular, his amazing range into right and center. Known for making spectacular catches. Lunging catches. Diving catches. Phenomenal catches. Catches in batches. Catches without matches. Groundballs he snatches. Base runners he dispatches. Web Gem after Web Gem. Gem of the Night after Gem of the Night. Because the night belongs to glovers. Because the night, belongs to us. My personal favorite Web Gem is the catch he made at Fenway Pahk. Sliding into the rolled-up tarp. Hooray glove! Gold Glove winner the past two years. Only the sixth infielder in Major League history to win a Gold Glove award in both leagues. Only the second second-baseman. Get the papers, get the papers. Brett Boone the first. In a league of his own. To achieve the incredible you have to attempt the impossible. Should surpass spittin’ Bobby Alomar and his ten Gold Gloves at second. Well, bite my butt and call me an apple. Hudson easily led second-basemen in the National League last year with 833 totals chances and 510 assists. The next closest in total chances was the Phillies’ Chase Utley with 799, and Utley was also second in assists with 424. But he’s not all glove and no bat. No sirree. This dog can hit. Can hit a little bit. Hit like a Banana Split. One banana, two banana, three banana, four. Four bananas make a bunch and so do many more. Tra la la, la la la la. Last year, the O-Dog set career-highs in batting average with a .287. In dings with fifteen. In RBIs with sixty-seven. Doubles with thirty-four. Triples with nine. And in runs scored with eighty-seven. Sure he started slow, but once he got comfortable and learned the pitchers, he turned it on. Hitting .304 in June and .315 after the All-Star break. He goes shopping at the gap. He’s off to a sizzling start. A torrid start. A blistering start. Blazing, boiling broiling. So we go rum-bum-bum-bum. Yeah we rum-bum-bum-bum. Feeling hot hot hot! Feeling hot hot hot! Oh Lord. Batting in the three spot. Batting in the three spot the other night against the Cincinnati Red Legs. The Big Red Machine. Batting in the three spot feeling mean. Crushed his second bomb of the season. Crushed his second bomb of the season with two outs in the bottom of the eighth. Crushed it to lead the Diamondbacks to a thrilling, 3-2 come-from-behind victory. Baseball’s extra special moment. Two more hits and a run last night. Last night, she said, oh baby don’t feel so down. The O-Dog don’t feel down. He’s batting 395. Just glad to be a live. High five! Arizona is on a six game run. Every morning. Every evening. Ain’t we got fun? Not much money. Oh but honey. Ain’t we got fun? I love my baby backs, baby backs, baby backs. I love Orlando Hudson.
Public Acknowledgements: The Underdog Show, The Beatles, Wikipedia, The Patti Smith Group, The Arizona Republic, The Associated Press, Yahoo Fantasy Baseball, Hanna-Barbera, Brett Haber, Buster Pointdexter, Craig Kilborn, The Strokes and Applebees.
It won’t slow you down.
the top of the list of the game’s top players. On top of the world looking down on creation. Holliday led the NL in average. Holliday led the NL in RBIs. Holliday led the NL in doubles. Holliday led the NL in total bases and was fourth in home runs. He will be in the thick of it. The thick of an extremely tight MVP vote. The Rockies also have Troy Trevor Tulowitzki. ROY! ROY! ROY! During the regular season, Tulowitzki batted .291. He batted .291 and set an NL record for rookie shortstops with twenty-four home runs. But he’s not all bat. He’s got glove. What is glove? Oh baby, don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me no more. He’s gonna hurt you some more. Hurt you enough to insert himself into the Gold Glove discussion. And know this sports 
fans: No rookie at his position has ever won it in either league. Yowza! Then there’s pitcher Jeff Francis. Cy Young! Cy Young! Cy Young! Maybe not, but his brilliant pitching of late is one of the main reasons the Rockies are in the position they are in. In the position of taking National League Pennant. Once again Colorado turns to a skinny Canadian kid to keep the ball rolling. Keep the ball out of controlling. Keep the ball heart and souling. Last week, in the first postseason start of his career, Francis pitched the Rockies to victory over the Philadelphia Phillies. The Fightin’ Phills. This week, he is sprawled all over the cover of Sports Illustrated. It’s the thrill that’ll getcha when you get 
your picture on the cover of the Rolling Stone. Wanna see my picture on the cover. Wanna buy five copies for my mother. Wanna see my smilin’ face on the cover of the Rolling Stone. If things keep going the way they are, Francis may see his smiling face in the World Series. He may see his smiling face there because the Rockies are built to be there. Pitching and defense. Defense and pitching. And, oh ya, they can the ball too. Do you know what we get to do today Brooks? We get to play baseball! And not a moment too soon. 
Kinsella. That’s my wish. And is there enough magic out there in the moonlight to make this dream come true? Yes there is, Archie. Yes there is. The 200 men representing eight cities will create enough magic to make all our dreams true. MLB baseball. MLB Playoff baseball. It’s why we hung around so long. We hung around so long to hear stuff like: There’s a long drive… It’s gonna be, I believe….. The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant! WAHOO! Bobby Thomson hits into the lower deck, of the left field stands! The Giants win the pennant, and they’re goin’ crazy! They’re goin’ crazy! Heeeey-oh! We hung around so long to hear stuff like: 
Deep to left! Yastrzemski will not get it — it’s a home run! A three-run home run for Bucky Dent and the Yankees now lead by the score of 3-2! Bucky Dent has just hit his fourth home run of the year and look at that Yankees bench out to greet him. We hung around so long to hear stuff like: Ortiz into deep right field, back is Sheffield, we’ll see you later tonight! What kind of stuff are we gonna hear this year?
Rockies Phillies: September 13. The Rockies leave the City Of Brotherly Love after a two game split. Even Steven. Kissing your sister. Yichhh! So, we meet again? Meet again three weeks and two incredible stories later. The Rockies and the Fighting Phills will attempt to prolong their epic dramas in a best-of-five National League Division Series. So what will we hear? Will we hear: Matt Holliday! That ball is going and it ain’t coming back! Matt Holliday. MVP! MVP! MVP! Matt Holliday. The hero of the play-in game. The one for everything. For all the marbles. All the starbles. All the Yougoslavian Dinarbles. All the come and get one in the yarbles, if ya have any yarbles. Matt Holliday capped his superstar season by 
obliterating twelve years of futility and irrelevancy. Is that what we’ll hear? Or will we hear this: Swing…and a long drive, watch this baby, outta here! Home run. Jimmy Rollins. The real MVP! MVP! MVP! The Mets had a chance to win the World Series last year. Last year is over. I think we are the team to beat in the NL East, finally. Jimmy talked the talk. Jimmy walked the walk. These cleats are made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do. One of these days these cleats are gonna walk all over you. I say these cleats walk all over the Rockies.
Diamondbacks Cubs: The Diamondbacks posted the best record in the National League. The Cubs are the team everybody’s pulling for. The Diamondbacks won ninety games. Nobody knows how they expect to compete against the Cubs. That’s why they play the games. So what will it be? Will it be: Long drive…way back…warning track…wall…you can touch em’ all, Jeff Sazlazar. Huh? Jeff Slalazar? Yup. Jeff Salazar. Reserve outfielder Jeff Salazar. Pinch hitting Jeff Salazar. Bernie Carbo style. Jeff Salazar saved the season. Saved the season back on September 10. Scratched from the lineup because of a sore ankle, Salazar came on to deliver a pinch-hit three-run bomb in the ninth inning to give Arizona a 5-3 win at San Francisco. That pinch-hit three-run bomb solidified the season for the Baby Backs. And it’s 
contributions like that, from everybody, that make these guys what they are. A T-E-A-M. Nine players on the field functioning as one single unit: team, team, team - no one more important that the other. Or might we hear this: That ball is driven way back…outta here! Derrek Lee! 2006 was not a very good year for Lee. Broken wrist. Cubs go 19-40 in his absence. His three-year-old daughter was diagnosed with Leber’s congenital amaurosis, a rare genetic disease resulting in loss of vision. This year’s been a lot better. Batted over .400 for most of the first two months of the season. The heart and power of the Cubs line-up. Late season power surge. If Lee gets going, like he was two seasons ago, there’s no one on the other team that can match him. He has the ability to put this team on his back and carry them to the next round by himself. That being said, I like the D-Backs here. 
Yankees Indians: Three of the four highest-payroll teams in the American League will be in the playoffs. The fourth playoff team ranks second-to-last in payroll in the AL. That fourth team is the Indians. Don’t get me wrong. I have no problems with spending. None. But What Mark Shapiro did with this team is nothing short of remarkable. Nothing. What will we hear in this one? Will it be this: Swing and a drive, deep to center, a WAAAAAAAAAAAAY back - GONE! Trot Nixon! Yup. Old friend Trot. Bo may know some things. Bo knows this. What? And Bo knows that. What? But Bo don`t know jack, cause Bo can`t rap. Bo may know this and that, but Trot knows the Yankees. For eight years of his career he played against them nineteen times a season as a member of the Red Sox. The Yankees went 6-0 
against the Indians during the regular season. Nixon hit .429 against them. Something to think about. Or will we hear this: Swung on and there it goes! That ball is high! It is far! It is…Gone! An A-Bomb. From A-Broad! A-Broad’s Yankees legacy depends on it. He was the man during the regular season. A rock at third base. A nightmare in the heart of the New York order. But if he does nothing in this post-season, none of it matters. You saw what happened last fall. Last fall, Rodriguez stumbled and bumbled through the division series against Detroit. Stumbled and bumbled and got dropped in the order. I don’t see that happening this year. I don’t see the Yankees winning either.
Red Sox Angels: Saving the best for last. Last year, no soup for us! This year, I couldn’t be happier. But happy doesn’t pay the piper. Happy doesn’t feed the baby. Happy doesn’t walk the dog. The Sox went wire to wire in the division. We need them to go wire to wire in the post season. Anything else is failure. We need to hear: …swing and there it goes…light tower power for Manny Ramirez! We need Manny to be Manny. We know what Big Papi will do. What Big Papi always does. But we need Manny. He is a difference maker. An earth quaker. A pitcher shaker. We need him, and I think we’ll get him. I don’t need to hear 
this: And the halo shines tonight! Oh my! I don’t need to see Vladdy shine tonight or any other night. He strikes fear in the heart of men. Strikes fear in every part of men. Strikes fear in the Rene Descartes of men. I’m hoping against hope fear strikes out. I’m hoping he is as 
Colorado Rockies. And unlike the Who, I can explain. The Rockies are trying to win this thing. Doing everything they can to win this thing. They just won ten straight. Won a franchise-record ten straight to keep themselves tied with the Phillies. Tied with the Fighting Phills a mere one game back of the Padres in the Wild Card. But that’s not enough. Not enough stuff. They want it all. They want the Marshmallow Fluff. Don’t look now, but the Rockies are just two little games behind the D-Backs for the West lead. Oh my! The Rockies have been to the playoffs just once in their 15 years of existence. As the Wild Card in 1995. The Larry Walker Rockies. The Dante Bichette Rockies. The Big Cat Rockies. These 
2007 Rockies are a new breed. Dig the new breed. Dig Beltin‘ Todd Helton. Beautiful swing. Will the Thrill swing. It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing. Know this: Without Beltin’ Todd Helton’s walkoff home run nine days ago, there is no winning streak. In September, he has batted .402 with 18 RBIs. Yowza! Dig Troy Trevor Tulowitzki. Triple play Troy Trevor Tulowitzki. Tu-lo-git. Tu-lo-git to quit. Rookie Sensation. Scaring the nation with his guns and ammunition. NL Rookie of the Month for August. Gold Glove candidate. Leads all rookies in runs, RBIs and total bases. Dig Matt Holliday. MVP! MVP! MVP! Tough guy Matt Holliday. I am a tuh tuh tuh tuh tough tough guy. Halo round my head to tough to die. Strained left oblique muscle. Strained left oblique muscle during the last week of a stretch of eleven home runs in thirteen games. He hasn’t got time for the pain. Dig the Rockies defense. On their way to the highest fielding percentage in major-league history. Goodness! If you saw Tuesday’s night’s Web Gems, you know what I’m talking about Willis. Down 6-5. Andre Ethier. Flyball. Deep center. Cory Sullivan makes the grab. Rockets the ball to the plate. Yorvit Torrealba blocks 
home plate. Tom Nalen style. Jeff Kent. Yerrrr out! Double play. How about that? How about this? How bout the Rockies bullpen? The Rockies wouldn’t be in this playoff race without the bullpen’s finishing kick. He punches like a 
the strike zone. He’s a three-time All-Star who led the American League in wins in 2000. No small feat. He has 235 victories in a 21-year career. Just one shy behind Whitey Ford for 12th all-time among left-handers. But most importantly, most importantly, he pitches big in big games on the big stage. I’ve had enough, I’m getting out. To the city, the big big city. I’ll be a big noise with all the big boys. Big time. So much larger than life. Larger than life in twenty-seven postseason games. Larger than life winning an American League Championship Series MVP Award. Larger than life with World Series rings from both the New York Yankees and the Toronto Blue Jays. He’s been there. He’s done that. He can do it again. And know this sports fans. He’s coming cheap. Very cheap. The Dodgers are required to pay only $80,000 of the $1 million left on his guaranteed 
contract, with the Padres picking up the rest. What a bargain! Nobody beats the Wiz! Especially when you consider Jason Schmidt, who made just six starts, hasn’t pitched in more than two months and left-hander Randy Wolf has been out since the first week of July. The Dodgers have trotted Brett Tomko out to the mound. The Dodgers have trotted Mark Hendrickson out to the mound. The Dodgers have trotted rookie Eric Stults out to the mound. They even trotted left-hander Hong-Chih Kuo out there 
before he went down with elbow surgery. Why not trot out the Boomer. Why not trot out a guy with a perfect game under his belt. With a skull rattling hangover, yet. Why not trot out a strike throwing machine. Why not trot out a money pitcher who’s the most money in the moniest of games. You’re so money and you don’t even know it! You know what you are? You’re like a big bear with claws and with fangs. Why not send out this big bear with claws and fangs. Why not try and win a pennant?
a four game win streak stymied at the hands of the lowly Nationals but are still playing lights out. Still leading the fights out. Still shining brights out. They still boast the NL’s best record at 67-52. They still have a three game lead over San Diego. You are still the one that makes me shout. Still the one that I dream about. We’re still having fun, and you’re still the one. Brandon Webb’s still the one. Last Year’s Cy Young Award winner. Last year’s Cy Young Award winner last seen hurling a complete game shutout. A five hit, ten strikeout, complete game shutout. Whoa Nelly! That’s nothing. Webb has just extended his consecutive scoreless innings streak to a club 
record thirty-three straight innings. Yowza! That’s four straight games. That’s something. Something special. Twenty-six more and he passes Orel. The original Bull Dog. Brandon Webb and his nauseating sinkerball are now 12-8. Brandon Webb and his repugnant sinkerball now have a 2.77 ERA. Mix in a revolting curve ball and a gruesome change-up and, you get a guy who is going to win the Cy every year. Every year. The Diamondbacks are 20-9 and have won eight of nine series since the All-Star break. The Diamondbacks have made themselves the team to beat in the National League. No small thanks to one Mr. Brandon Webb. I said Blue Moon of Kentucky keep on shining. As long as this blue moon of Kentucky keeps on shining, the Diamondbacks future is bright.
the audacity to say. ”At all.” Couldn’t he have let dead dogs lie? Michael Vick style. No, he couldn’t. “This record is not tainted at all. At all.” Are you out of your cotton pickin’ mind, Barry? Huh? Are you? You must be. You know you’re speaking out the side of your gargantuan melon that sits atop your behemoth of a body. Seventy-three home runs since the age of forty. Moving you into the lead for the most in baseball history. Taint: A trace of something bad, offensive, or harmful. A trace of infection, contamination, or the like. A trace of dishonor or discredit. To modify by or as if by a trace of something offensive or deleterious. To infect, contaminate, corrupt, or spoil. To sully or tarnish. Guilty of all charges. Bonds
apologists may say I’m out of order. I say: You’re out of order! You’re out of order! The whole trial is out of order! Bonds used. No argument can convince me otherwise. Look at his head for goodness sakes. I’m not kidding, it’s like an orange on a toothpick. That’s a huge noggin. That’s a virtual planetoid. Has it’s own weather system. That man’s head is like Sputnik; spherical but quite pointy at parts! Now that was offsides, wasn’t it? He’ll be crying himself to sleep tonight, on his huge pillow. No he won’t. He don’t care. He got his dirty little record and now he wants us to join the party. I’m not biting. I know countless others have used. I know Tom House was “doing steroids they wouldn’t give to horses.” I know what happened to Ken Caminitti. I know guys like Rafael Palmiero, Jose Cansceco, Gary Sheffield and Jason Giambi used. I know they weren’t only ones. I don’t care. It does not make Barry any less guilty. He’s a cheater. He cheated. You know it. I know it. Greg Anderson rotting away in jail waiting for his Giant payday knows it. 
Baseball strikes. Football scabs. Hockey lockouts. They all seemed to threaten the sanctuary of sport. But this just seems worse. Maybe because its all happening at once. Maybe because these crimes all seem so heinous in comparison. Maybe because of all the non-stop sports coverage we are fed ad-nauseum. I don’t know. But times sure seem really tough right now. Ram tough. Just cut the stuff, til you get enough. ‘Cause we’re rougher than tougher and rougher than tough! Barry Bonds. The greatest hitter we have ever seen. Cheating his way to his the most hallowed of records. Making himself impossible to embrace. Actually creating great apathy while chasing the greatest of milestones there is. Michael Vick. Maybe the greatest rushing quarterback we have ever seen. The only quarterback in NFL history to rush for over 1,000 yards during the regular season. Committing atrocity after atrocity against man’s best friend. Essentially running an organized 
crime ring that profited off of such atrocities. Tim Donaghy, perhaps the worst perpetrator of all. Undoing what little trust was left in the NBA. A league official fixing basketball games is a violation that will take years to repair. A violation that will forever cast a shadow of doubt over the hardwoods. Jon Lester completed his triumphant battle over cancer the other night. The Yankees are finally making a run at this thing. An Irishman just won the British Open. Pitchers like Tom Glavine, Roger Clemens and Greg Maddux are throwing well into their forties in games that matter. My Red Sox are in first place. My Patriots just signed Randy Moss and Adalius Thomas. My Celtics just signed Jesus Shuttleworth. Unfortunately, none of these feel good stories 
can break through the muck and mire the Unholy Trinity has created. I hope they’re happy. I hope their selfish acts for money, fame and fun were worth it. It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right. I hope you had the time of your life. Good riddance. Good riddance Barry. I cannot wait until your steroid ridden body finally breaks down for the last time. Good riddance Michael Vick. I cannot wait for justice to be served and you are behind bars where you belong. Good riddance Tim Donaghy. I cannot wait for you to get your just desserts. For you to be punished for your sins against the great sport of basketball. Good riddance to all three of you. Now, how bout them Sox?
want, whenever I want. I can do anything, right or wrong. I can talk anyhow, and get along. Don’t care anyway, I never lose. Anyway, anyhow, anywhere I choose. Whoever I want. Whenever I want. Bonds head gets so big he needs a mailbox for a cap, I’m drawing blood. John J. Rambo style. Jeremy Shockey goes all crazy like with his helmet off after breaking a tackle for a five yard gain in an unwinnable game, I’m testing him. Serena Williams smashes a 200 mph serve, I’m testing her. Michelle Wie drives the ball a mile further than any man in sight, I’m testing her. 
Dustin Pedroia goes for three bombs in one game, I’m testing him. Shawne Merriman breaks out his lights out dance after smashing through two offensive lineman and sacking the quarterback, I’m testing him. Again. Every pro wrestler from John Cena to Candice to Umaga, I’m testing them. Everyday. If LaDainan Tomlinson, the Touchdown Maker, the Record Breaker, Mr. Everything, if he goes to the hizzy five times in one game, I’m testing him. No questions asked. Gary Sheffield goes on TV talking all kinds of nonsense, I’m testing him. So if you want this steroid problem fixed, you know who to call. Call me. Call me on the line. Call me call me any anytime. Call me my love you can call me any day or night. Call me. Call Josh Q. Public.
Hell’s Bells, he already has the Major League record. Hell’s Bells, he already has seventeen saves this season. Hell’s Bells, he already has the most devastating change up in all of baseball. A disgusting, foul, rank, nauseating, repulsive palm ball. He uses the same arm speed he uses to throw his fastball. Mugs think it’s a fastball. It sure looks like a fastball. It sure smells like a fastball. It sure tastes like a fastball. But it ain’t a fastball. It’s a Bugs Bunny change. Watch me paste this pathetic palooka with a powerful paralyzing perfect pachyderms percussion pitch. Yerrrr out! I’m out? That’s what the man said, you heard the man…! Now Trevor has done it. He has just become the first player to ever hit 500. Ever. Rollie Fingers didn’t 
do it. Lee Smith didn’t do it. Sure times have changed. I understand the present now will soon be the past. The order is rapidly fading. The first one now will later be last. For the times, they are a-changing. But I also understand Mariano won’t do it. I also understand no other active player is even remotely close. You should understand he probably is the most underrated player in baseball today. You should also understand he will immediately go into the Hall of Fame. He will not pass go. He will not collect his two hundred dollars. He will retire as the best closer of all time. You better recognize! And dat’s de end.
seven innings in any of them. Another Yowza! As a matter of fact, no pitcher has had four straight double-digit strikeout games regardless of his number of innings pitched since the Big Eunuch did it for the 2004 Diamondbacks. Yowza! Yowza! Yowza! Richie Cunningham style. Peavy has nasty stuff. Disgusting stuff. Revolting stuff. What a revoltin’ development this is! How revoltin’? Just ask Phat Albert Winnie the Pujols: ”He was filthy out there. Today was the first time I saw the ball real well against him and I still couldn’t get him.” Nobody’s been able to get him. Peavy is 5-1. Peavy leads all of baseball with sixty-six Ks. Sit on it Potsie. Peavy has the second best ERA in baseball at 1.52. Peavy is having a career year. He already has tied his franchise record with sixteen punchados back in April. He already threw a one hitter. He already is making his case to be the best pitcher in the world. The Dixie Cannonball.
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you love. Hudson is renowned around the major leagues for his fielding prowess. In particular, his amazing range into right and center. Known for making spectacular catches. Lunging catches. Diving catches. Phenomenal catches. Catches in batches. Catches without matches. Groundballs he snatches. Base runners he dispatches. Web Gem after Web Gem. Gem of the Night after Gem of the Night. Because the night belongs to glovers. Because the night, belongs to us. My personal favorite Web Gem is the catch he made at Fenway Pahk. Sliding into the rolled-up tarp. Hooray glove! Gold Glove winner the past two years. Only the sixth 
infielder in Major League history to win a Gold Glove award in both leagues. Only the second second-baseman. Get the papers, get the papers. Brett Boone the first. In a league of his own. To achieve the incredible you have to attempt the impossible. Should surpass spittin’ Bobby Alomar and his ten Gold Gloves at second. Well, bite my butt and call me an apple. Hudson easily led second-basemen in the National League last year with 833 totals chances and 
510 assists. The next closest in total chances was the Phillies’ Chase Utley with 799, and Utley was also second in assists with 424. But he’s not all glove and no bat. No sirree. This dog can hit. Can hit a little bit. Hit like a Banana Split. One banana, two banana, three banana, four. Four bananas make a bunch and so do many more. Tra la la, la la la la. Last year, the O-Dog set career-highs in batting average with a .287. In dings with fifteen. In RBIs with sixty-
seven. Doubles with thirty-four. Triples with nine. And in runs scored with eighty-seven. Sure he started slow, but once he got comfortable and learned the pitchers, he turned it on. Hitting .304 in June and .315 after the All-Star break. He goes shopping at the gap. He’s off to a sizzling start. A torrid start. A blistering start. Blazing, boiling broiling. So we go rum-bum-bum-bum. Yeah we rum-bum-bum-bum. Feeling hot hot hot! Feeling hot hot hot! Oh Lord. Batting in the three spot. Batting in the three spot the other night against the Cincinnati Red Legs. The Big 
Red Machine. Batting in the three spot feeling mean. Crushed his second bomb of the season. Crushed his second bomb of the season with two outs in the bottom of the eighth. Crushed it to lead the Diamondbacks to a thrilling, 3-2 come-from-behind victory. Baseball’s extra special moment. Two more hits and a run last night. Last night, she said, oh baby don’t feel so down. The O-Dog don’t feel down. He’s batting 395. Just glad to be a live. High five! Arizona is on a six game run. Every morning. Every evening. Ain’t we got fun? Not much money. Oh but honey. Ain’t we got fun? I love my baby backs, baby backs, baby backs. I love Orlando Hudson.