Hey Boston, now that you have a Japanese player, it might help if you knew a little bit about Japanese culture. I'm not from Japan nor am I Japanese, but I grew up with Japanese neighbors, studied Japanese in elementary school and have had a long fascination with Japanese baseball.

The first thing to know is that you shouldn't have to worry much about the ethic of your new pitcher, Diasuke Matsuzaka. Like the company is all-important to Japanese workers, the team is all-important to Japanese players. The success of the team reflects well on them. It's like going to Harvard or BU. The students may or may not add to the reputation of the school, but the benefit greatly from the reputation. Japanese are the same. When the team is respected as being good, they are satisfied. Matsuzaka will almost certainly put the team before himself. Just look at Ichiro--sure he came over and had a reputation as being flashy or whatnot, but in the end, his game is totally geared towards getting on base--unless the bases have runners, then he switches up and tried to drive the ball.

Next, many Japanese learn English in school, but it's very much like kids in America learning Spanish. It's not safe to assume Matsuzaka knows fluent English--even if you've heard him use some in press conferences. Japanese society is concerned with properness and it wouldn't be proper to go to America to play baseball and not learn one stitch of English. That would be rude and impolite. The effort is much more important--speaking broken English is better than not even trying. Therefore, if you ever have a chance to meet Matsuzaka, you can say the following phrase (broken down phoenetically): Ego-ga, wakathe-mas-ka. That just means, do you speak English. There is a weird blend in the middle of the wakathemaska part. The 'the' is really more of a D sound that seems squished nearly into the way people from England say "the". Hopefully he'll say yes and you can continue in English. As I said, the effort is all-important, so even if he speaks fluent English, he'll appreciate the fact that you tried to speak a little Japanese.

Finally, since we Americans have already rounded off his first name to sound like "Dice K" it made me think of somthing from my youth. The "Dice" automatically flashes me to old performances by Andrew Dice Clay. If one of you Sox fans doesn't have the creativity to fashion a studded leather jacket that spells out Dice Man on the back and wear it every time he pitches, then you are forever out of the baseball fraternity. Sure, people will make dice or start bringing fuzzy dashboard dice or whatever, but get out your damn glue gun and get busy. Three months is plent of time to make yourself a Dice Man jacket. Also, Fenway PA guy, I hope you're reading, every time Matsuzaka strikes someone out, you had better play a clip from Dice Clay, like the familiar "shaddup!" or the ever-famous, "OH!" The rest of the baseball world can't do it, Boston. He's your pitcher now.

So let me guess, the oh so clever fans of the Arizona Diamondbacks are going to boo when Barry Bonds comes up during their series this week. I don't blame you. Everyone else in the league has been doing it. You guys did it the first time the Giants came to Arizona. No sense in trying something different.

Whatever. I'm not going to try to sway ideologies and change minds. I simply want you to realize that as you boo Bonds, you boo yourself. Rest assured, Jason Grimsley isn't the first skeleton in a MLB clubhouse closet and he won't be the last. That goes for the rst of you--Cubs fans, Cardinals fans, Marlins fans...everyone. There is a Grimsley on your roster, too. You just don't know it yet. So keep booing, as long as you realize you are a greater and greater hypocrite with each passing boo.

Hypocrisy. I'll give you an example: Oakland A's fans booing Bonds vigorously then standing and cheering when he hit #714, giving him a curtain call as if he were the most beloved player in the game.

Stick to your game. Boo if you want, as long as you realize what it says about you. And if you boo, don't then stand and cheer as if you don't have a principled bone in your body.

The Los Angeles Dodgers' slogan is Think Blue. After their series with the San Francisco Giants, they might want to change it to Think. Period.

As expected, the Dodger fans booed Barry Bonds restlessly, like most road fans in the past have done and will likely continue to do. Game of Shadows not withstanding, Bonds is a guy you boo except when he's on your team. He's like Terrell Owens or Deion Sanders--you don't like that guy unless he's on your team. It's understandable. I don't knock the Dodger faithful for booing. It's part of the game. You might, however, consider relenting when your team is at bat.

The Dodgers averaged seven runs a game before the Giants' series. In that three game span, a 72-hour boo festival, they scored just four total. That's a 539% decline in offense. Perhaps it was the juggernaut Giants pitching, though with their number five starter, Jason Schmidt giving up seven walks in his start, and the finale capped with a Triple-A call up, I doubt that's the case. Maybe the team went into a wholesale slump at once. Possible but not likely. Maybe it was because the fervant yet stupid Dodger fans continued to boo Bonds out in the field--attempting to throw off his concentration and focus, which are so necessary when playing left field.

Seems more likely that ongoing booing was a bigger distraction to Dodger hitters. I kept waiting for JD Drew or Jeff Kent to turn around and yell, "Will you shut the F%#@ up, I'm trying to hit!" Why do fans rise to their feet with the game on the line, two outs and two strikes on the hitter? It doesn't seem to bother the pitcher or defense at all, yet it does have some effect on hitters, evidently.

Maybe Dodger fans felt the need to make their point to Bonds emphatically, that they think he's a cheater, or that records are tainted, or any variety of points that defy logical debate. Well then good job. You made your point and made it emphatically. Of course, if it costs the home team two out of every three games, then I don't know if the team will appreciate your point quite as much.

Brings new meaning to the phrase Dodger Blue.

This Game of Shadows thing has me thinking about a couple of things:

There are two details that stand out to me as they related to the claims in the book about Bonds and others using steroids.

First, they mention prevelent use of a substance that had been previously unbanned by baseball. OK. What's the problem. If it's not illegal, then move on. Next topic. But it was illegal in other sports. Well known as a steroid in other sports. Yes. And drugs are legal in Amsterdam and prostitution is legal in Brazil. But not here, so if you get caught with pot and a hooker, guess what happens in the U.S.? But not in those other places.

The real issue though, has been the use of the term performance enhancers. I'm not going to be a complete devil's advocate lunatic. I can understand the benefits of steroids. But they're performance enhancers.

Rather than go through the entire history of substrances that alter perfomance, let me simply point out one example. What is cortizone? Agh, I can't walk, I can't move, I can't pitch--enter cortizone shot and suddenly you're Curt Schilling and the bloody sock. I'm not criticizing any player that ever used a cortizone shot, but steroids have an impact over time. Cortizone has a nearly immediate impact on a player's ability. If we're going to squash all of these substances, fine. It makes no difference to me one way or the other--but start right away with a ban on Cortizone. Then put Giambi in a game winning situation against some kids fresh up from Triple A in Game 7 of the ALCS and see how he fares as compared to Schilling.

If a #### is a ####, then say so across the board. I've doubted my capacity to play and taken something as bland as Tylenol and badda bing, I'm fielding fly balls in no time. If the difference between playing and crippling pain is a drug that enhances my performance, then just say so.

Just a quick note regarding the lawsuit filed by Barry Bonds against the authors and publishers of the book, Game of Shadows.

There is a very good reason his attorneys decided to file a suit claiming they obtained the grand jury testimony illegally--one, becuase it's true. In fact, the only way anyone could have obtained leaked information from the grand jury transcripts is through illegal actions.

However, there is another aspect that would have pushed the attorneys to file this suit rather than one for libel. Some people have said that the fact that Bonds didn't file a libel suit is a virtual admission of guilt on his part--true, true...that or his attorneys are not idiots. As someone who works in the publishing industry, I assure you that libel cases are exceedingly--wait, EXCEEDINGLY difficult to win. There are two major hurdles to overcome in a libel case. Someone other than an armchair lawyer could explain in greater detail, but essentially, the point needs to be proven that what was written is not only inaccurate, but grossly inaccurate. The law doesn't say grossly, but the implication is that the story in question has to be incredibly wrong, not merely containing a few incorrect details.  On top of that--which is a big hurdle all by itself--the lawsuit must also be able to prove the presence of mailce. In other words, the intent to inflict harm.

A libel case for Bonds would have to prove that the book is not only wildly inaccurate, exaggerated and otherwise filled with falsehoods but that the existence of these errors occured because the writers intentionally and willful intended to defame, harm, or otherwise cause purposeful injury to Bonds.

The fact that his attorneys didn't file a lawsuit for libel simply points out that they understand what a tough case it would be to win and that a negative verdict in said case would bring about much of the same injury, defamation and harm outlined in said suit.

I know by now that it's impossible to sway the opinions of the masses on the topic of steroids in baseball, particularly related to the situation swirling around Barry Bonds. There are generally two camps: The I hate Barry therefore he did it no matter what anyone says people and the I like Barry, therefore these guys are just haters people.

Rather than quibble over things that can't necessarily be proven or measured or quantified, I have taken my issue, instead, with the piece of journalism constructed by the two authors of the book Game of Shadows. As a fellow journalist, it makes me quesy to even think of the book as a piece of journalism, but here goes:

In the book, the authors assert that Bonds was driven to steroid use by his jealousy of Mark McGwire. OK. Let's just say that's true. Something else they said doesn't add up, then. Here's the world they've painted--a jealous Bonds crazed that he's not as popular and as loved as Big Mac so he's driven to try to smash Big Mac's record and steal his limelight, thus the turn to steroids.

Fine. Seems ridiculous to me, but I'll grant it. Bonds didn't even touch his person record in homers until three seasons after beginning to take steroids. Thems slow acting roids. That personal high was reached in 2001, the year after the Giants moved into Fill In The Phone Company of Your Choice Park with the shortest left field fence in the MLB. Coincidence? He was also hitting in front of Jeff Kent, who won the MVP award. You can't really pitch around Bonds to get to the soon-to-be MVP and expect to win a lot of games. But, and here's the damning evidence, according to the book, Bonds settled for the walk whenever the pitch was three inches out of the zone. Why? Wouldn't a crazed egomaniac bent on smashing home run records swing at everything even close to the strike zone? Vladamir Guerrero can hit a pitch a foot off the dirt over the wall--lots of hitters can. Big League hitters can hit pitcher's pitches out of the park, so why didn't Bonds flail more? Certainly he was smart enough to know each walk he took was a potential homer off of the boards.

They continue by saying that whenever Bonds hit the ball squarely, "which he almost always did" that year, according to the book, the ball soared off of his bat. Amazing. A power hitter hitting balls squarely all season and hitting a career high in home runs. Doesn't seem possible.

The other troubling fact is that the book utilizes as a heavily used and relied upon source, Bonds' former girlfriend. The authors claim she's a reputable source becuase she wasn't after Bonds monetarily--well, except to pay off her house--and that she seemed to lack evident ulterior motives. I mean, except for the fact that she was a jilted lover. That's enough. That's all you need. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned--where do you think that expression comes from. A jilted lover doesn't need financial motivation. Loraina Bobbitt cut her husband's #### off and last I checked John Bobbitt wasn't one of baseball's all time great hitters with a net worth of millions. Another woman ran her husband over with her car--repeatedly! No fortune in the picture. Lots of really ticked off girlfriends and wives would jump at the chance to inflict pain of their former lover just for sheer principle. The thought that these guys consider her a value source is baffling to me, as a journalist.

Look, they said, at the claims made in grand jury testimony--transcripts of which made it to these writers through dubious means, at best. Leaking grand jury testimony is against the law, so having it in their possession as a source is akin to receiving stolen property. At any rate, they cite the testimony of Victor Conte and Greg Anderson--drug peddlers and untrustable liars, if you believe the FBI's take on the duo. They cite claims by CJ Hunter and Tim Montgomery that Conte told them that Bonds used the very same steroids that he was trying to coax them to buy--at a pretty hefty price. Does it seem far fetched that Conte, something less than a law abding citizen, would lie to try to get yet another sale of a substance it was illegal to sell in the first place? You have to approach the testimony of Conte and Anderson with skepticism--to say the very least.

This is all part of a "mountain" of evidence compiled by the Federal Government that is damnable to Bonds. Really. Then why hasn't the Department of Justice indicted Bonds? It's possible there is a reasonable amount of circumstancial evidence, but I doubt federal prosecutors would sit on an indictment if they knew they could nail Bonds dead to rights. Federal prosecutors live for high profile takedowns. If they could drop the hammer on Bonds, they would have by now. This type of "evidence" is not good enough to hold up in court, but it's good enough to sell books and that's the real motivation. There's your crack team of journalists--following in the footsteps of Jose Canseco. What more do you need to know.

One reputed and respected baseball writer said of the whole thing, "we haven't seen any REAL evidence" in the Bonds situation. Hmm. Real evidence. What else kind is there? 

A lot of discussion has been made over whether or not anyone on the current Baseball Hall of Fame ballot will in fact earn enough votes to get in. The nominees being considered this season are without question first-ballott inductees into the Hall of Really Good. But the Hall of Fame requires a little something extra.

As the judges on American Idol are apt to say, there's no wow factor. When I was in high school I used to love watching Will Clark play. He was intense, focused, and dependable in key situations. Of course, there's no accounting for injuries. Still, Clark managed to put up pretty solid numbers for his career. Nevertheless, despite my personal bias, the Hall of Fame was not built on solid career numbers. I don't want to walk away thinking, it's just a'ight for me, dog--a la Randy Jackson. You want to be blown away. You want a guy that stands out, that gave you cold chills at night thinking about facing him the next day.

Is that really Andre Dawson or Jim Rice? Maybe. But I guess that's just the point. There should be no maybe to it. So if I'm looking for a blow me away guy on that list, I have to start looking at the collection of closers.

Maybe the Baseball Hall of Fame has a no closers policy akin to the no punters policy loosely enforced by the NFL. But why not? Set the numbers aside for a minute. Consider that wow factor, those cold chills. Plenty of those chills were brought on by guys like Lee Smith and Rich Gossage.

Smith set the all-time standard for save numbers in a career. The bar that is there for closers was set by Smith and players like Smith and Gossage changed the game. Teams today aren't even considered viable playoff contenders without a solid closer. These two pitchers altered the perception of what the game was all about.

Previously, teams all entered the game thinking they had nine innings to produce more runs than their foes. When Smith played for the Cardinals and Gossage the Yankees and Padres, teams knew that they had seven innings, if they were lucky.

Beyond the perfomance on the mound, both pitchers, Gossage in particular, created the protoype for a closer that exists to this day. With cap tugged low, a walrus mustache jutting from his face, and eyes veiled in complete darkness, Gossage was to intimidation what Metallica is to heavy metal. I don't suppose it's possible to ever know if the Goose was a really gifted pitcher or an above average pitcher whose stuff was magnified by the fear lurking in the bellies of hitters.

For sheer innovation they should go in. If any closer playing anywhere in the Big Leagues ever hopes to get into the Hall, they should pray these two get in. That isn't to say that Trevor Hoffman and his ilk aren't worthy of induction, it's just that it seems a little ridiculous to enshrine U2 before The Beatles.

Still, I won't lose sleep over it. If the voters are looking for good candidates, I suggest they start their search with these guys. But it is not to worry. If they never make it to the Hall of Fame, there's always a career as a jewel theif.