Five Tool Tool - The Sports Blog That Loves You Back

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

One small question for college baskeetball

Just why again did you choose to put the Final Four in Detroit? Shouldn't this event be in, you know, a place that people might actually want to go to?

The Steelers Get One For The Other Other Thumb

This is fantastic on many levels, but it assumes that any Steeler Fan is thin enough to have sex. Somewhat NSFW, and I'm disappointed that they didn't get into the smaller Asian sizes popularized for Hines Ward. Do not miss.

Does the NBA own stock in Twitter?

Mark Cuban has found a new way to get fined; criticizing refs on his Twitter page. Shaquille O'Neal gets controversy for using the service at halftime, and asking people to accost him in public. Baron Davis just told the world he's got an ulcer on his page. (Finally, a Clipper has something in common with their ticket holders. That, and the soul-crushing losing.) Charlie Villaneuva has been candid about his coach's displeasure with him on Twitter. Many teams have committed to official feeds.

And that spine-crackling yawn that you just emitted from this knowledge? Well, I'm on the record as loving the Association, but I'm with you on this one.

Personally, I'm one of the far too many Rapidly Aging Americans who use Facebook; I do so for the same reasons that people used to use Reunion or MySpace, which is to say, to look at pictures of women I knew in high school. (Yeah, like you use it for anything else.) That, and trying to casually amuse people, or generate a few extra folks for my poker game, or blog posts, or whatever.

I do not care, and never will, about the not very illuminating or interesting lists or quizzes or applications that people use in the course of their Facebook day. Nor, for that matter, am I all that interested in the building blocks of your thought process, which is to say, the real grist of what Twitter is about.

So why do so many NBA guys do this?

1) They have too much free time. Seriously, at this point in the season, there isn't much in the way of new scouting or coaching going on. It's all about either qualifying for the playoffs, finding out about bench guys, or just playing out the string for the benefit of your statistics. There's a reason why scoring goes up late in the year; there's a tacit quid pro quo of guys more or less going easy on each other.

2) They are young enough to embrace any new technology. Your mom uses e-mail. Parents use Facebook. Twittering is basically a public text messaging service; it rewards a lack of forethought or editing, and that's right in the wheelhouse of folks who are less likely to have set habits and schedules.

3) It's a fad. Kobe Bryant notwithstanding, there really aren't very many NBA players who have been on Shaq's teams that have really disliked the guy. He may be a defensive sieve now, he might have squandered some of his talent and opportunities from not taking his conditioning seriously, and he's left untold thousands of points on the table from being a free-throw liability. But he seems fun to be around, and he keeps the media away from you. So when he starts doing something, other people are going to check it out.

4) Easier to be second than first. Who, really, is going to crack hard on a Twittering NBA guy now? You'd have to crack on Gilbert Arenas first, for opening Pandora's Box with the blogging, then the half dozen folks who've already done this in the last month.

My only real question is this... what will it be next month? 24-hour Web cams carried on the players? Bathroom updates? A cortical implant that will allow us 24/7/365 thought access? Non-inquiring minds do not want to know!

That's the way to start the year

Word out of Milwaukee, in no way surprising, that Trevor Hoffman will start his Brewer career on the disabled list.

Of course, I own him on two out of three leagues, because that is just how I roll, bitches.

The move is retroactive to March 27, because the team doesn't think that he'll be out for a very long time, and 41 year old closers are not exactly known for their durability. So I'm not exactly cutting him. Just myself.

Luckily, I'm sure this will be the last time this year that I have to deal with hurt players. Good to get that out of the way early, really.

The Price Is Wrong

Two AL East teams have announced to their fans that the first couple of months of their year don't matter very much, and that they are more than willing to jeopardize the integrity of their season in an attempt to save money at some future date. I speak, of course, of the Tampa Bay Rays and Baltimore Orioles.

Let's start with the team that wasn't very far away at all from winning the World Series last year, your defending AL East and AL Champion Tampa Bay Rays. They've decided that the guy who had their season and championship in his hands during last year's ALDS, and the man that is ranked no lower than the #2 prospect in all of MLB, isn't worthy of their #5 starter role. No, seriously.

David Price will instead take his career 1.93 ERA, 3 to 1 strikeout to walk ratio, 95 mile per hour lefthanded heat and 0.93 WHIP to Triple A Durham, so that he can work on, I don't know, his diction or something.

The Rays claim that what they are really trying to do here is to make sure that the young guy doesn't run into arm trouble, as they want to limit his 2009 output to 165 innings or less. Instead, the early season starts will go to Jason Hammel (career ERA of 5.90, mostly because he can't throw strikes) and/or Jeff Niemann (career ERA of 5.06, similar live arm with control issues).

What is really happening, of course, is that the Rays are playing games with Price over his arbitration years by trying to keep his service time down. They are, in effect, gambling that they are so much better than the Red Sox or Yankees that they can play at a disadvantage in April and maybe even May, while their potentially best starting pitching option twiddles his thumbs in Durham.

They just might get away with it, too. Hammel and Niemann both have live arms and might figure it out, and it's not like they will be facing the beasts of the world in the #5 slot, especially with early season rainouts and off days tending to limit the work of a #5 starter. It's also not the worst idea in the world to limit the innings from a talented 23-year-old.

But it just sends a terrible, terrible message to their fan base, and it also -- and this is the hidden bummer point -- increases the risk of injury and overuse to their top arms. Those would be James Shields, Matt Garza and most especially Scott Kazmir.

Because when Price is your #5 starter, he's not *really* your #5 guy; he's an arm that you aren't going to skip over. So you wouldn't have the temptation to overuse the top pitchers, in the same way that you will with the marginal candidates in the #5 slot. That will do double or better if the Rays stumble out of the gate while the Yanks and Red Sox get off to a hot start.

Oh, and there's also this. Price is fully aware that he's in the minors for no good reason at all, and is *very* likely to remember this when the time comes for his arbitration and free agent negotiations. Enjoy him for the legal minimum that you'll get him, Rays Fan.

Meanwhile in Baltimore, the #1 prospect in baseball is going to the minor league camp despite being a switch-hitting catcher with power. In 2008, Matt Wieters hit .345 with 15 homers and 40 RBIs at Class A Frederick and .365 with 12 homers and 51 RBIs at Double-A Bowie. In preseason action, he's 13 for 39 with a homer, five RBIs and four walks.

The Orioles have decided, in their infinite wisdom, to have this asset go to Norfolk, just so they can save on his future arbitration rights, and avoid taking calls from Scott Boras for a few more months.

Now, I understand that 2009 is not going to go well for Baltimore, and that there is a certain logic to making sure that the next Oriole team that will compete has Wieters with a marginal amount of more seasoning.

But let's just call this what it is: tanking baseball games, from the very start of the year, and telling their fan base that there is no reason to pay attention to them from the very start. Come back later, folks. If at all.

Don't think that the baseball gods haven't noticed. Nominal starting catcher Gregg Zaun, who will be 38 in April and is coming off a robust .700 OPS year with Toronto, got crunched at home plate last week, and is questionable for the start of the season with a bad elbow. If he can't go, the club will go with Chad Moeller or Robby Hammock, which is to say, the worst Opening Day starting catcher in MLB. As Big Star (and for the younger readers, Trent Reznor) once sang, you get what you deserve.

Here's a thought for Baltimore management: if 2009 is so outside of your realm of interest, discount the tickets until Wieters comes up. Trade away Brian Roberts, who won't be good when Wieters is in his prime. Sell off George Sherill in the bullpen, and maybe Chris Ray as well, since it's not like you care about winning the 1 in 3 games that you might possibly have a late lead for. Release Melvin Mora and Aubrey Huff.

Or, and this is the real winning play... sell the team to any entity in the world that actually wants to win baseball games, rather than feel smart about their payroll while finishing fifth.

Oh, and cashing all of those revenue sharing checks from the teams that, you know, actually want to win.

Seriously, why on earth is anyone an Orioles fan?

And why on earth does MLB (and yes, I'm looking at you once more, Bud Selig, and regretting the decision to do so) perpetuate a compensation system in which teams are discouraged from starting the year with their best young players? Shouldn't Opening Day be about, you know, *hope* for every fan in every city, no matter how deluded that hope may be?

Or do only MLB+ teams get that now, officially, for good and forever?

Monday, March 30, 2009

The Post Save World

In Chicago, Cubs manager Lou Pinella has announced that Kevin Gregg, a reliever that the team acquired from Florida in the off-season, will now have the closer role. This is to some mild upset of fantasy owners who have drafted the electric stuff of Carlos Marmol, especially seeing how Marmol has been the best reliever in the Cubby pen for years now, but has seen the counting stat go to Ryan Dempster, Kerry Wood, and now Gregg.

Fun tangent for Not Cubs Fans: start a meme in Chicago sports radio and the Internets claiming that this is a race-based decision, since the other three men are all tighty whitey and Marmol is not, because what else could a decision in Chicago be?

In Seattle, top arm Brandon Morrow is going to the pen as another team decides to baby a talented young guy, rather than risk Dusty Baker-esque malpractice accusations later. Morrow is expected to eventually close, if for no other reason than the Mariners aren't going to win more than 65 to 70 games and want to have at least one guy who could be named to the All-Star Game if Ichiro craters this year.

In New York, I'd say something more here about Joba Chamberlain, but that would cause the Internets to break under the weight of people talking about Joba Chamberlain. Let me just cut to the chase here and say that if he were going to the pen because Mariano Rivera suddenly became unavailable, it would probably be a heck of a lot less controversial than having him take set-up innings.

In Oakland, fantasy players are prepared for a screwing as the A's deliberate on whether Brad Zieglar or Joey Devine should have the role. They've both been lights out in their time in the East Bay, but Devine is more of a strikeout guy and also more injury-prone. So it could go either way, and probably eventually will, just because Billy Beane and the ownership probably want to avoid paying for a counting stat more than they can exploit some other dumb team to pay for a counting stat.

And finally, in Boston, Jonathan Papelbon has the closer spot for something like the third or fourth straight year. What can I tell you, I don't feel like looking up the numbers and seeing when he got the job, because the blog's advertising revenue is not high enough for me to think about the Red Sox that much. Paps is getting paid and staying healthy despite slowly eroding numbers, so I guess it's working out for him. Moving on.

Which is all said in the manner of a set-up for the gist of this post: the market, at least in terms of how major league teams contemplate value, is moving beyond the save. Whether or not the Cubs want to admit this, Marmol is very likely to be a better pitcher than Gregg this year, and they are going to use him in the most valuable role that a bullpen has: men on base, protecting a lead, in the late innings. Which is more likely to be the seventh or the eighth, rather than the ninth, since the closer role now almost always involves working the full inning from the start.

Anyone who has seen the value of their home, 401K and employment crater in the past year knows this with painful certainty right now: market inefficiencies are eventually corrected with prejudice. Saves are, simply, a market inefficiency, one that is pointed out year after year by fantasy leaguers who spend their high picks on more stable roles and then patch or luck their way into treading water in the category. (Though, to be honest, I kind of hate the patch work, because it is a hideous timesuck in what is already a hideous timesuck. Give me three good ones that I don't have to worry about, and I'm happy, or at least, less miserable. But anyway...)

If you wanted to play in a fantasy league that best approximated real life competence, you would abandon the usual 5 x 5 category format. Typically, that is batting average or on-base average, home runs, runs, RBIs and steals for offense, and wins, saves, ERA, walks plus hits divided by innings pitched, and some measure of strikeouts, whether it's total, per nine innings or divided by walks.

Instead, you'd have *fewer* categories -- maybe just OPS for hitters (on base plus slugging percentage) and just ERA for pitchers, while keeping the position requirements to match a real team.

So you'd sweat out two catchers, back-up infielders, and the number of teams in the league being more or less equivalent to the number of teams in the real sport.

Finally, you would do a roto situation, which is to say year-long instead of week to week matchups, and you'd impose some kind of structure to limit moves, since real teams do not have the luxury of "streaming" players for small daily advantages.

There is a reason why people don't do this kind of league, of course, and that reason is that it would be about as much fun as maintaining an actuarial table. Counting stats like saves, wins, homers and RBIs are *fun*; they give you a definitive fist pump of joy from the fact that something of importance just happened, even if the importance doesn't quite match the value given to it by the system.

But I can tell you this: nature abhors a market inefficiency, and in a relentlessly competitive system like baseball, inefficiencies that cost you wins in the long term are not tolerated. We are moving with all speed to a world where the save counting statistic costs teams much more than it benefits them, and individual players, and their commission-aware agents, become aware of how they are getting hosed.

If you are Carlos Marmol, you know this, and most likely, you know it hard. If you are Brandon Morrow and the Mariners don't give you the glory job, it's going to play in your decision to take a deal to lock up your arbitration years, or just your long-term decision to stay in town. If you are Joba Chamberlain, you may be too drunk to think very hard about this, but your agent most assuredly has.

And if you are a very particular kind of geek, you are now wondering about setting up a 1x1 fantasy league for what passes for street cred in propeller-head circles.

(Please don't ask me to join it; I'm already in three leagues and more importantly, I might not ever be able to play in them if I join yours, for the fun of not worrying about saves.)

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Your Jose Lima Update

Now, which of the following points amazes you the most about our man's indie ball comeback...

1) Jose Lima is still employed to pitch at any level

2) Garry Templeton (yes, of "If I'm not starting, I'm not departing" fame)is employed as a baseball manager

3) Lima is still married to a woman with a Show-level rack

4) The presence of Mrs. Lima ensures that Mr. Lima will continue to be more than blog-worthy for the foreseeable future

5) Long Beach, CA seems to be the repository of all of Teh Crazy in the sporting world

Where Unfortunate Happens

Tonight, I'm watching Bugs-Spurs on the Lemur. The Spurs make two three pointers to cut the lead down to 1 with 15 seconds left. The Bugs inbound the ball to Chris Paul, who uses his hyperspeed to avoid the intentional foul, but not really. As CP3 gets to the frontcourt, Manu Ginobili finally gets to him, but not before Paul hoists one from 40 feet. The refs finally get the whistles out, but now it's Paul shooting three free throws; he makes them all. With the lead now up to four, the Spurs don't score again, and that's your ballgame.

Now, I'm not a Bug or Spur Fan; I was just hoping to see this go to overtime, so that I could get a few more minutes out of my fantasy game players. But if I were Spurs Fan, I'd be bent, because the zebras clearly missed the call on Paul's clock kill, because Tony Parker-Longoria clearly fouled CP in the backcourt. But, um, not the way the ref saw it, and instead of a shot at the end to tie, CPs made free throws ended things.

Now, is this really a disaster? No, not really; New Orleans led for most of the way and were probably going to win anyway, as Paul was just MVPish tonight, and they were at home.

But it does show the general maddening tendency of the Association, which is that every close game is going to have intense scrutiny on the refs. And ever since the Donaghy scandal, that scrutiny goes beyond thinking about the competence of the individual crew, or how so and so got lucky... and right into a realm that does the league no good at all.

Nothing you need in a recession, during the time of the year when the world cares more about college basketball and spring training baseball...

Britches pound Texas, Hookers shock Butchers

The Philthy Britches crushed the Texas Hustlers in the first game of a derby doubleheader at the 23rd Street Armory on Saturday, but the real excitement came in the second game when Heavy Metal Hookers overcame a 21-point second half deficit to beat the Broad Street Butchers on the last jam of the game.

The Hustlers are the gran dames of WFTDA, part of the first women's flat-track league in country. (On a personal note, the Hustlers do have kickass purple uniforms. They were reminiscent of Interplanet Janet, who played a formative role in our early development.) The Britches showed no respect for their elders, though, beating the Hustlers 129-64.

It was a tight, slow game in the early going and the Britches frequently found themselves behind before taking a 44-37 lead into halftime. Texas had narrowed the lead to 48-44 when the Britches all but ended the game, erupting for 30 points in the fifth and sixth jams from Gloria Grindem and Ginger Vitis while allowing only two points.

The Britches clamped down at that point, allowing only 20 points for the rest of the game.

The Hustlers held all-everything jammer Mo Pain in check, allowing her only eight points in five jams. Many of the Hustlers were part of the all-star Texecuctioner team that lost to the Liberty Belles at the 2008 Nationals (Ed note. Philly puttin' a boot in Texas' ass again). and blocker Babe Ruthless said they knew they had to stop the Britches most dangerous jammer.

"We saw her at Nationals and knew she was an amazing scorer," Ruthless said. "We really targeted her and that allowed some of the other girls the opportunity to really shine. We underestimated some of their other jammers."

The second game looked like it would follow the same pattern of a close game at halftime blowing open after a big second half run. The Hookers held a 42-37 lead at the half, but the Butchers roared out of the locker room, scoring 15 points to the Hookers' one in the first three jams.

With the help of a 10 point jam from co-captain Persephone while Hooker jammer Ivana Rock watched from the Sin Bin, the Butchers pushed their lead to 73-58. Then a curious thing happened, the Butchers stopped scoring. At all. The wouldn't score another point the rest of the night.

Meanwhile, the Hookers weren't doing much scoring themselves, going scoreless for the next three jams. But Robin Drugstores picked up eight points with 7:31 to play and after Teflon Donna added five more, the Hookers were suddenly two points down with all the momentum on their side.

When Mandawar shot from the pack as lead jammer, it looked like the Hookers would take their first lead of the half. A penalty for a back push (Ed. note: Hey! You're learning the penalties. About damned time) cut the rally short, but she did her job, knotting the score at 73 with two minutes to play.

Ivana Rock and Elle Viento took their positions as jammers, a sneer on their lips, steel in their hearts, their very loins girded for battle (Ed. note: Dial it back, Grantland). The whistle blew and a few minutes later, Rock popped free of the pack into the lead.

The final showdown never quite materialized; Viento was sent off a penalty (Ed. note: Where's your sense of drama, ref?) and watched helplessly as Rock picked up the winning points for a final score of Hookers 83, Butchers 73.

The Liberty Belles will be on the road April 11 against the Carolina All-Stars in Raleigh, N.C. In a rematch of the 2008 Warrior Cup game, the three-time defending champion Philthy Britches will face the Broad Street Butchers at the Armory on May 2. (Correction: the Hookers are playing the Britches for the Warrior Cup. Five Tool Tool. Ackuracy is our watchword.) Be there or be square, derby fans.

Something you could not possibly care about: The Fantasy Baseball Roster Post

The keeper league drafted today, and longtime readers will not be surprised to learn that it was, once again, the best day of the year. The room had a good mix of new owners, phone folks and established vets, and the proceedings changed considerably from last year -- less over-the-top aggression early, and a pretty strong increase in overall knowledge.

The Keeper Auction League

C Matt Wieters BAL 9
C Pablo Sandoval SF 7
1B Chris Davis TEX 16
2B Ian Kinsler TEX 17 *
3B Jorge Cantu FLA 10
SS Jimmy Rollins PHI 34
CI Joey Votto CIN 13
MI Kazuo Matsui HOU 1
OF Shane Victorino PHL 20 *
OF Brad Hawpe COL 12 *
OF Carlos Quentin CWS 17
U Ryan Ludwick STL 5
SP Rich Harden CHN 7 *
SP Ricky Nolasoo FLA 13
SP Kevin Slowey MIN 16
SP Max Scherzer ARZ 7
RP Trevor Hoffman MIL 6 *
RP BJ Ryan TOR 5 *
P Brian Fuentes ANA 11
P Chris Carpenter STL 5
P David Price TB 5
BN Justin Upton ARZ 8
BN Skip Schumaker STL 1
BN Brandon Morrow SEA 3

Notes: * marks a keeper that I came into the draft with.

I was able to work out a strong futures/keeper role this year while still giving myself a shot at contending. Keys to my good feelings about this squad is that I was able to get the best available closer on my board (Fuentes), and a couple of strong ratio starters (Nolasco and Slowey) that fueled a second half run last year as free agents. I also didn't overspend on any of my projections, though Rollins was right at the limit.

Biggest boned play was Skip Schumaker, who wasn't available at the second base position that he's won until he, well, plays some MLB games there. I also took Wieters out of position, which cost me more than was probably necessary, but I believe in the kid, and it's not like a month or two from a bad back-up is going to make the difference in a season-long roto set up. The outfield is good and cheap, but probably not good enough, especially given the weakness of the corner. It would also be nice my closers stopped breaking down.

The Strong Friends H2H League

1. (6) Grady Sizemore
2. (19) Lance Berkman
3. (30) Carl Crawford
4. (43) Brandon Phillips
5. (54) Rafael Furcal
6. (67) Josh Beckett
7. (78) Rich Harden
8. (91) Felix Hernandez
9. (102) Jonathan Broxton
10. (115) Ryan Zimmerman
11. (126) Edinson Volquez
12. (139) Mike Gonzalez
13. (150) Carlos Delgado
14. (163) Ryan Doumit
15. (174) Justin Upton
16. (187) Mark Reynolds
17. (198) Chris Carpenter
18. (211) Howie Kendrick
19. (222) Elijah Dukes
20. (235) Brad Penny
21. (246) Yunel Escobar

Very tough league and draft, where I got poached on at a half dozen early picks. I liked Sizemore with the sixth pick here, as it's an OBA league and I think that helps him considerably. I like my pitching depth and don't think I've gotten quite enough wood here, but you never know. I'm also going to struggle in saves here, as the league was closer-crazy -- probably a more defensible play in H2H with a K/9 category, which is what this is. I need a saving surge from one of the low-ranked hitters to have any chance here.

The Weak Work H2H League

1. (3) Jose Reyes
2. (22) Chase Utley
3. (27) Manny Ramirez
4. (46) Matt Kemp
5. (51) Dan Haren
6. (70) Chris Davis
7. (75) Rich Harden
8. (94) Ryan Ludwick
9. (99) Cliff Lee
10. (118) Bobby Jenks
11. (123) Kerry Wood
12. (142) Pablo Sandoval
13. (147) Carlos Pena
14. (166) Jason Motte
15. (171) Milton Bradley
16. (190) Trevor Hoffman
17. (195) Matt Lindstrom
18. (214) Hiroki Kuroda
19. (219) Melvin Mora
20. (238) Ryan Theriot
21. (243) Coco Crisp

Just a supremely comfortable draft here, with the top five picks going almost according to script and the closer run being started by me, rather than reach-finished. Note also the presence of Sandoval, Motte and Bradley, all of which seemed like great values when I got them. This was the first league to draft, and the fact that I found useful bench hitters like Theriot and Crisp in the last two rounds made me warm all over, too.

Feel free to (a) use this to influence your own draft, or (b) roll your eyes at the idea that this counts as actually helpful content, rather than me telling you about this awesome Dungeons and Dragons session I had over the weekend...

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Friday, March 27, 2009

Breastpaw

Eri Yoshida is 17 years old, 5 feet tall, 114 pounds and female. She is also the first female, assuming that one does not think unkind thoughts about Hideo Nomo, to pitch against men in a Japanese professional league.

Friday in Osaka, she made her debut, walking the first hitter on four pitches, giving up a stolen base, and then striking out the next hitter before being replace. She throws a sidearm knuckleball, which can't be something that most people have much experience handling, and wants to emulate Tim Wakefield, which can't say much about her future offers to pop her top for skin magazines. Yoshida is said to have been pitching since she was in second grade, so that gives her a solid decade of throwing the knuckler.

Now, there is the usual question as to whether this is a publicity stunt (of course), and the Lemur's Rob Neyer asked the particularly obvious and insensitive question as to how she's handle a bunt, or what she'd do on a 3-0 count. Um, Rob... what makes Yoshida's plight in that situation any different from, say, Chad Bradford? And did being a lot shorter than most of his opponents stop Tom Gordon from having a 20-year career? I don't remember too many people worrying about Pedro Martinez not being able to handle himself out there despite being half of the size of some of the hitters. Hell, Pedro was a headhunter. Plus, he beat up Don Zimmer. That has to count for something.

The simple fact of the matter is that baseball is an individual sport with a ton of physical outliers, and if Yoshida gets people out -- and I'm thinking that any 17 year-old person that can strike an adult out, by any means, is something of a prospect -- she'll have a job, regardless of whether or not she sells tickets. And, of course, she will. Teams have employed utter reprobates like Ugie Urbina, Denny McClain and Dwight Gooden; the job is to get outs, and if you can do that, nothing else really matters.

I am convinced, and have stated before on this blog, that during my lifetime, a woman will pitch in the major leagues. Yoshida has just the kind of novelty act that could break through, and if it's not her, it will be someone that can get the ball up to 90 mph.

Particularly if she's left-handed. And cute. (What, you think there won't be some ticket sales involved?)

Bad Gear Fear

Last night on my commute home, my iPod began to malfunction. It would cut out after a few minutes, and while music would begin again with a mere click, it was annoying, and after a dozen reboots in 25 minutes, I gave up and suffered with the jabbering crosstalk that too many commutes now have. Maybe I could have played with it longer, but since I'm still wearing multiple layers (spring, my ass) since moving back to the East Coast from Northern California 2.5 years ago, that means that I can never be warm again. Seriously, I'm like a little old man here. I'll be moving to a condo in Boca and eating dinner at 3pm within weeks. But anyway, that's not where I'm going with this, so...

The point is that, having gotten used to a level of performance and consistency from my gear, I became spoiled. When the iPod went down, I still had the same magazines, laptop and Blackberry that I carry every day. My commute hadn't become terrible; it just reverted to what it was in December, before the Shooter Wife gifted me with the iPod. And suddenly, what I had been used to all that time was damn near intolerable, and all I could think of was how screwed I was if the iPod had real issues.

We all do this; once you have new and better gear, going back to the old level of performance can just seem soul-crushing. In my 20s, after the first marriage circled the bowl, I wound up moving away from my nice downtown Philly apartment, back to the same crappy part of Fishtown that I had escaped to before. It was what I had to do for economics and work, but man alive, was it soul-crushing. Bad gear is a reversion, and it strikes at every insecurity you might have ever had; progress was an illusion. Failure was your true level of performance. The bad gear is simply a manifestation of that.

Now that I've given you a sunny start to your day, let's lasso this and bring it back to sports.

As a (mostly) Philly sports fan, I live in fear of the return of bad gear. So instead of obsessing over how, say, the Sixers may have years and years to go on a crippling contract to Elton Brand that will cap their ceiling at 45 to 50 wins, I think about how nice it is that Samuel Dalembert could never ever be compared to Shawn Bradley, and how Tony DiLeo has the team playing in a way that could never be confused with The Doug Moe Era.

When other Eagles fans long and pule for the return of a messianic #1 wide receiver (this month, the eternal wanderlust that is Anquan Boldin has given way to the he might be available Braylon Edwards), I'm just hoping that the new offensive line doesn't make me remember Ron Solt.

Now, this might explain a few things (too much, really?): the acceptance of mediocrity, holding on to the memories of players that were entertaining but flawed, the hedging of allegiances and/or passion for the knowledge that, like death, taxes and people jabbering for the entire length of my commute at a volume that even the rejuvenated iPod can't mask, a reversion to a bad level is just a matter of time.

And it is, of course, a matter for willful deception of one's own intellect. The same way that every day is, really.

Just because Tra Thomas is gone does not mean that we're going to go back to turnstile tackles. The fact that the Sixers haven't had a top-level low-post scorer since Malone and Barkley does not mean that they will never have one again, or that Brand is doomed. Eric Chavez might be useful for the A's this year. They might not regret the Rich Harden salary dump in the same way that they regretted the Tim Hudson salary dump. And so on.

We may think we know what will happen, but we really don't. We might even be right more often than we are wrong (yes, I've got a little ego from the fantasy sports performance, thanks for noticing)... but teh wrongness is going to return.

The details are not written, and the details mean everything.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

NFL Sprawl

Blogfricans weigh in on the NFL thinking about going to an 18-game schedule. I'll save you the clicking to give you the three views you are allowed to take.

1) Yay! More Football!

I, for one, applaud our NFL Overlords, because it will give me several more weeks of not caring or watching any sport other than football. Also, despite my rampant football hard-on, I refuse to watch any new league. Like, say, a real spring football league.

2) We Fear Change!

The current 16-game schedule with a bye, despite only being in place for a decade or so, is the zenith of human accomplishment and must not be messed with. After all, what will this do to the career records that no one really cares that much about, or the Hall of Fame that even fewer care about. Besides, everyone's gonna get hurt!

3) Yay! More Gambling!

Finally, fantasy sports can remain relevant for an extra two weeks, despite the fact that a third of the people that play in leagues quit after the first month anyway. This will cut down on the amount of time that I have to think about anything other than my nerding!

As you might imagine... I'm going a different way.

Reasons to like it:

1) Less preseason games. Along with minor league baseball, the lack of a college football playoff and Super Bowl ads, preseason football games are an offense against God and country. The idea that NFL season ticket holders have to pony up for these useless exhibitions should be the cause of a class-action lawsuit, and if you think that the longer regular season will just make for more injuries... well, every year in preseason meaningless games, we see guys suffering season and career ending injuries.

2) Less preseason football might mean less preseason football coverage. Who will tell us that it's hot out there when our newspapers all go away?

3) More even scheduling. Last year, any division that played the Wests had a huge tactical advantage. Two extra games should help to make that less compelling. (And you thought the Patriots were 11-5 on the merits, or that the Jets weren't mostly horrible.)

Reasons to Dislike It

1) It will contribute to the growing pussification (see the raft of new safety rules that the league is putting in this year, with no more wedge, defensive players that must rise up and dust themselves off before continuing to inconvenience the quarterback, and the all-new category of defenseless defensive player (Izell Jenkins is back!) more or less neutering Hines Ward. It's a game for men, by men, filled with people who won't be able to walk by their mid-40s. Do you really want to see even more judgment calls in the hands of these refs?

2) By the time that the league went to ground last year, with NFLN games adding to the noise, do you know who was sponsoring them? Amway. Now, I'm not going to get into a full scale pissing contest with those people, because I like the current location of my teeth and marginal legal assets. But let's just say that it's not exactly the same tier of advertiser that you've come to expect with the NFL.

Now, what do you think these telecasts are going to look like in 2009, with the economy in full retreat, and advertising budgets circling the drain?

Right. The NFL will be *lucky* to have Amway. And you know what you are really going to see? Well, it will start here...

and eventually wind up with Tony Siragusa wearing one on the sideline.

I loves me some NFL, but is another month of it worth that? Think hard. Some things that are seen can not be unseen.

Say It Isn't Zero

Word on the Lemur tonight that the only Washington Wizard that matters (and, of course, the one that hasn't played all year) is giving up the blogging. Gilbert Arenas, we really knew you.

Now, it's possible / overwhelmingly likely that Agent Zero will go back to the word needle as soon as he feels compelled. It's also possible that blogging is just your grandfather's Internet for today's NBA superstar, who's all about the Twittering. But it might also be that Gilbert just doesn't have the time for Blogfrica anymore, especially wince he might actually play a game this year.

Gilbert believes now that blogging is a damn do / damned don't kind of thing, in that the Meed'ja will simply take whatever you write and snipe. Um, Gilbert? That's not the meed'ja, that's the public. If I had a dime for every Epic Carnival commenter who tried to ruin my joie de vie, I'd hav esome joie de vie.

It may, or course, be that I'm just very bitter about drafting and stashing Gilbert's medical ass for six months, Gilbert! Or that you might finally come back for an opponent, just in time to not replace Devin Harris after that sum'bitch Marcus Camby took him off the court for absolutely no reason, given that the Clippers should be required by law to not care every game?

Anyway, sorry to see you go, Gilbert. You'd think that a guy with an utterly untradeable contract who is more or less crippling his team's efforts to be competitive would want to be more entertaining, not less...

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Road Work

Last night in Portland, the Sixers won one of those games that NBA teams almost never win, the dreaded fourth game in five nights, end of the road trip game against a rested opponent. It was even in overtime. A few notes...

> Your hero of the game: Andre Miller, who more or less willed this one. Something I hadn't quite noticed about Andre before is just how freaky strong he is, especially on defense. He wound up working against the 6'-9" Travis Outlaw on a 1-on-1 defensive switch. Outlaw, sensing he had a physical advantage, tried to grind Miller down in the block, and the point guard simply locked in place and went nowhere. Outlaw wound up forcing a long bank and missing, and um, really, wow.

Now, it's not like Outlaw is some kind of star, or that there are no other point guards in the league that could have pulled off that trick, but it still showed me something. First off, that Miller truly cares about winning, to be putting his body on the line in that situation. Secondly, that he might be an Eric Snow level defender, which is saying something. (I'm talking about back when Snow could, you know, move.)

> The Sixers' announcing crew clearly has a hard-on for Reggie Evans, and it's not too hard to see why; he has no physical gifts, and yet is an effective NBA player. Plus, he clearly enjoys playing the game, and that's not a small thing; his enthusiasm is infectious, and it seems to help him really get under the skin of the opposition and enemy crowd. Evans had some key (and, of course, questionable) stops last night, especially late, and while it's pretty hard to imagine him getting those calls against teams with more star power, that doesn't mean he's not fun to watch.

> Tony DiLeo can flat out coach. In last night's game, the Sixers ran out to a big lead at the half behind too hot to last shooting, then went ice-cold to start the second and eventually give back the lead. Throughout the Blazers' runs, DiLeo kept stopping the momentum like he was leading the dance, even buying time for Andre Igoulsda, who had four fouls early in the third.

DiLeo also does something else that's pretty great; he uses his good but fairly untested young players (Lou Williams, Marresse Speights) in situations where they are likely to succeed, and gets them out of bad situations. The confidence that both players showed in crunch time spoke to the coach, and while it seems like a small thing, I can't tell you how many times I've seen a young NBA player ruined by the Sink Or Swim school of non-thought

A final point: maybe it was just the length of the road trip, but DiLeo does more with a deep but limited bench that any Sixers coach I've seen as an adult. He's got the remains of Donyell Marshall and Theo Ratliff, both signings that I more or less mocked in the off-season, giving him useful minutes and helping to change the dynamic of any game.

As for Portland...

> I can see why they like Greg Oden; he tries hard, is active, and is exactly what they need. Unfortunately, he's also a walking foul, didn't show much in the way of range, and has no real moves in the post. Maybe he develops these things, and maybe he doesn't. Portland also really didn't need another wing player, no matter how good Kevin Durant is. But, um, jeez... at some point, you've got to take the next Bernard King over the next Samuel Dalembert, don't you?

> Rudy Fernandez is a lot of fun; he's got hops and couldn't miss from downtown last night, and was the reason why the Blazers forced overtime. But everything is at a million miles per hour, and he doesn't seem to have much in the way of a mid-range game.

> I couldn't be sure of this on the non-HD feed, but it really does look like Steve Blake wears pink sneakers. Maybe it's a breast cancer thing, but if so, he's on an island. Oh, and also, he can't keep anyone in front of him. Portland needs a real point before they are going to go anywhere.

Finally, this... the Sixers wound up going 3-2 on their West Coast road trip, and won what might have been the two hardest games. The next 10 they've got on the schedule feature a fair number of Eastern also-rans, and they might even be able to put the Pistons down for good. Maybe no one else in town much cares, but seeing how the last three times the Sixers have made the playoffs, Detroit has been there to end them in the first round... well, I'd like to see them out of the playoffs.

Besides, who really wants to see more of Detroit, anyway?

Poach and Gag

So twice now in the past week, I've been in drafts where there's been a notable high ranked player that has slipped far behind his average draft position. And in both cases, an owner has piped up in the chat window to note this, as if this wasn't, you know, roughly akin to staring at a poker hand that he wasn't in and announcing what he folded. (Especially if you were, you know, bluffing.)

Twenty years ago, when I was playing in my first leagues with guys that were older than me, in a time that was mostly before computers, we had people who did this. It irritated the hell out of the commish, and eventually we passed a league law (the "gag" rule) prohibiting that kind of behavior. It's not like we took a guy's picks away or other punitive measures; we didn't have to, because there was, you know, a degreee of personal shame involved in violating the group dynamic.

Not to get all curmudgeonly on the world, but if you are violating the gag rule routinely or (even worse) on purpose, please learn youreself some manners. I wound up having to ream a guy in the chat window (no names, it's fine now) over this. Winning a fantasy league is difficult enough, even when the league is composed of homers and people that reach on name recognition only, without having that sort of fart in an elevator thing to deal with.

Because winning a league is not about just taking the best players; it's about taking them at the right time. In a typical draft with good competitors (and sadly, like poker, the number of fish seem to be declining over time, and replaced by nothing but fellow sharks), I'm going to have 2-3 options before a pick, and my decision isn't just about who fits my roster bet, but who I think I can get if I pass on them right there.

How you feel about your team is, basically, directly related to whether or not you got the guys you wanted at the time that you wanted them. Get poached enough, and you're going on the fantasy league equivalent of tilt. And if I lose out on a guy due to some loose talk while I'm waiting for my pick, when I don't really have a secondary option set up, I'm going to be on tilt for that pick and bone it. (Nine times out of ten.)

Life is too short to put up with that, really. Moving on...

The Induction Speech You Don't Want To Hear

Curt Schilling announced his retirement yesterday, just in time for the recession created by his pick for President (whoops, sorry, that was out loud) to dry up the market of team that were willing to pony up many millions of dollars under the possibility that he might come back and add to his career stats. And while one should never take an athlete at his word on the lack of a comeback, especially given how much green is still on the sidelines and how much a media whore like Schill craves the limelight, I do think we've seen the last of him. (If nothing else, the Red Sox have effectively doubled his role by bringing in John Smoltz and Brad Penny.)

Now, for the possibly surprising point for blog readers who are familiar with my longstanding enmity for Bloggy McBloggermouth... I think he's a lock for the Hall of Fame. If I had a vote, he'd be first ballot. As Rob Neyer has pointed out, he's basically got the Catfish Hunter career, only better.

You have to give the Mouth his due. A won-loss record that's 70 games on the positive side of .500, given how much of his time was spent toiling for terrible Phillies teams, is meaningful. So are the three championship rings, all of which were more or less impossible to imagine without his contributions. He also did it, as far as anyone can tell, without the needle, and for all of the man's considerable personal foibles, it would be genuinely shocking to find out that he was a liar on that.

He will be remembered, of course, not for the curiously hittable power mix that led to the 14th most strikeouts in MLB history (at least today), nor for the pioneering measure of writing his own blog. No, the legacy will be entirely wrapped in the Bloody Sock, baseball's Shroud of Turin. One wonders, really, whether it would have been worth all of the hullabaloo had "The Natural" not foreshadowed the entire episode, or if Fox hadn't given us pitch by pitch updates on the status of the blood, as if Big Schill were a boxer trying to limp home on points.

But in the end, results matter more than style, and on that count, Schill is no worse than the third-best right-handed starting pitcher of his era, behind only Clemens and Maddux. And since the Rajah is now seen as the utter reprobate that he always was, maybe he goes up to second.

He was durable, good and clutch, and he succeeds on the only measure that should matter for Hall of Fame inclusion.

That would be this: it's impossible to tell the story of the game during the time that he played without him, because he dominated his class and standing.

Now, if you don't mind, I need to go wash up. Having praised His 38ness that much just left me feeling all dirty.

Your Fantasy Baseball Sleeper and Bust Column

Every year, I have the same problem with this column: when to write it. FTT's readership must assuredly includes all of the people that I compete with in my three leagues, and tipping my hand on these players is, more or less, my entire prep work for the season. Not advisable. But with two out of three leagues down already, and the last having some mitigating circumstances from being a keeper league, here goes. (Also, if I'm in a league with you, you already know that I'm the grandaddy of all liars.)

Sleepers

1) John Baker, SP, Minnesota Twins. I love the Twins staff on value for a bunch of reasons. The first is the park. People think the Metrodome is a hitters' park because of the baggie in right field and the way the ball used to jump out of the place, but look again; it's now neutral at best, and the visibility is just not something that opposing hitters can adjust to quickly, especially if they aren't experienced at playing there before. What the Twins have here is simply an unfair park for the home team, rather than an equal opportunity hitters paradise.

Second is the club behind him. Minnesota does the small market thing of stocking the team with plus defenders and a deep bullpen; you rarely get a start here from a pitcher that is going to out and out kill you. In head to head leagues where you spend most of the week hoping that your SP doesn't give you a turd sandwich, that's critical.

Finally is Baker himself. He's the closest thing to an ace that the Twins have, post-Santana, and can out and out dominate (in a quiet, polite, Midwestern way) when he's on. Combine all of that with the usual market discount that you get for shopping in the hinterlands, and even a little bit of spring training stay-away (he's been less than sharp so far), and I think you have the perfect recipe for a bargain. 141 Ks in 172 IP last year, with a 1.18 WHIP. Buy into it now, and get the 225 IP version.

2) Chris Ray, RP, Baltimore Orioles. This just in: George Sherrill wasn't anything special before last year. He's also lefthanded, which is something that rarely works in your favor in a closer battle. Ray hasn't given up anything in spring training, and the very worst that you'll get is a co-closer with the better end of the platoon. Given what the Orioles are and do, you might even luck into him getting a full-time job with a playoff contender by mid-season.

3) Jason Motte, RP, St. Louis Cardinals. The first person to not like his stuff will be the last, and with Chris Perez succumbing to injury, the next great young closer is primed to take the role. With Tony LaRussa going by the numbers and the Cardinals looking surprisingly frisky this year (hey, if Chris Carpenter and Adam Wainwright can stay healthy, it's not impossible to see them winning the Central), you've got a very good Rookie of the Year candidate brewing. Take advantage of the people in your league who don't pay enough attention here.

4) JJ Putz, RP, New York Mets. Is it possible that the best reliever on the Mets doesn't have the closer job? Yes, of course, and that's not even too much of a knock on K-Rod, who should be good enough in the weaker league. If K-Rod should falter and/or break, Putz would take the gig for a probable 90+ win team in a probable strong pitcher's park. Worse case scenario, you've got a steady Scott Shields type of guy who can provide good ratios in a lot of relief innings -- infinitely preferable for a late round selection than a marginal starter.

5) Coco Crisp, OF, Kansas City Royals. He's murdered the ball in camp (.371 BA), and 20+ SBs won't come any cheaper. I could see him chipping in with moderate power and batting average, and the Royals' offense could be a lot better behind him. Heck, I even like the team to not be mathematically eliminated this year until Labor Day. So what's not to love? Jump on the Coco Career Year Train.

6) Mark Ellis, 2B, Oakland A's. In 2007, Ellis gave budget-base shoppers 19 homers, 76 RBIs and 9 steals with 84 runs scored. Last year, he got hurt, stank, and was also at the top of an order that had less punch than your average "fight" after a beanball. So what to expect this year, with Mssrs. Holliday and Giambi up behind him? 2007, provided he ever gets healthy. Either way, you won't have to pay much to find out.

7) Fred Lewis, OF, San Francisco Giants. This is what you get when you take too long to get to the majors and play for a god-awful team; zero hype or love, even when you deliver 81 runs and 21 steals in less than a full starting job. Expect a little more from Right Said Fred this year -- maybe 90 runs, 15 homers and 25 steals, and all of that for a late late late pick. Let someone else pay the name freight for Johnny Damon and ride the anonymous Lewis for cheap steals.

8) Elijah Dukes, OF, Washington Nationals. Is he a murderous stooge? of course. Are the Natty Lights a terrible, terrible team? Mais oui. But you don't have to bring him home to Mom; all you have to do is hold your nose and pick him, then hope that he stays in his shoes long enough to give you 30/30 on the sly. He'd have done that last year if he hadn't gotten hurt, and he's still just 24 years of age. Besides, the Natty's can't be as bad as they were last year, so he could really exceed all expectations without too much trouble.

9) Trevor Cahill, SP, Oakland A's. Who? A 2006 high school pick of the Billy Beaneaters, who took the A's money rather than go to Dartmouth. You'll be able to draft him as late as you like, or maybe even just stream in daily leagues, but here's what he's got going for him: 1) exceptional ground ball ratio, 2) good control, 3) excellent home park, 4) a lockdown bully that strands inherited runners and 5) an organization that knows what they are doing with young arms.

With Gio Gonzalez on the shelf and Justin Duchscherer a little iffy, he should get a chance to impress, and might do more than that; if Greg Smith and Dana Eveland could give you some goodness last year, the bar is certainly not high. And if he fails, the organization will swap him out for another guy (Gonzalez, most likely) that you'll want to roll the dice with. This is a really good place to have a young starter.

10) Kevin Slowey, SP, Minnesota Twins. If you are in a K/BB league, Slowey is absolute gold due to his freaky great control; last year, in just his second year in the Show, it was over 5 to 1, and he did the same thing in his rookie year, too. He also increased his strikeout rate, and with Baker and Francisco Liriano on board, he won't be facing the other team's top pitchers. He's tasty.

Busts

1) Matt Wieters, C, Baltimore Orioles. Now, don't get me wrong: I've seen the PECOTA predictions and read the scouting reports, and I'm also convinced that he's going to be great. The question is, what year will that be? In 2009, he's going to start the season in the minors as the Orioles give the middle finger to their 43 remaining fans, just to make sure that his arbitration-ready clock doesn't start right away. If you can carry a zero on your roster in a H2H league until June, you are in a league that plays a lot different than mine.

2) Joe Mauer, C, Minnesota Twins. Continuing my trend of Catcher Hate is Joe Mauer, who has rarely been part of a winning fantasy breakfast. Too injury prone, with less power than AJ Pyrzinski, and the handful of steals that he gives you is hardly worth the early round premium -- especially now that more OFs are running. Let someone else overpay for the relatively emplty batting average calories and season-long worries about his back; unless he gets a clean bill of health (unlikely), he's not going on any team of mine.

3) Cole Hamels, P, Philadelphia Phillies. In my keeper league, he got traded something like four times this off-season. I suspect that what happened each time is that his new owner took a look at his innings pitched for 2008, then compared that to every other year in his life and winced. No one else believes me on this, but I think he was completely spent at the close of 2008, which means you won't get nearly enough from him in 2009.

4) Max Scherzer, P, Arizona Diamondbacks. Another electric talent that's overbought for this year, mostly due to control issues. I also don't like his home park (Arizona is sneaky good for the hitter), his division (the Dodgers will be good this year, and no pitcher ever really enjoys trips to Coors), or his need to perform (with Randy Johnson gone to San Francisco, Mad Max is going to be asked to do too much, too soon). Get him in the post-hype 2010 year, when he delivers real value.

5) Alex Rodriguez, 3B, New York Yankees. Perhaps the most divergent pick on the board in any draft. I've heard the argument that you're going to get 2/3rds of a year from him and that he'll be fine, but I'm not seeing it. He's not going to steal bases this year for fear of making the hip worse, and a stationary A-Rod is really not better than Aramis Ramirez -- and that's not even taking into account the fact that you'll get a full year of work out of A-Ram.

There's also this, of course. A-Fraud is 32, with the biggest contract in the history of the game, and will either return to a Yankee team that's been winning without his sideshow, or that desperately needs him to save the season. Meanwhile, he's going to be Tabloid Friend #1, and the road fan work on him is going to be fantastic -- he's just given them an incredible arsenal for heckling here. Not exactly an easy rehab, is that? Mighty good chance that he tries to do too much too soon and gets hurt worse, right?

Save yourself the stress and let someone else take him, unless it's getting to be 5th round or worse. It's just not worth it this year.

6) Carlos Marmol, RP, Chicago Cubs. No denying that he's got the stuff to close, but he doesn't have the job, and after his March adventures in arson during the WBC, maybe he doesn't have the stuff right now, either. Every year, there are dozens of sure-thing relievers that just go poof, and Marmol just has that feel to me this year. Besides, in most drafts you are having to pay closer rates for a guy that, well, doesn't have the gig. Pass.

7) Rich Harden, SP, Chicago Cubs. This hurts, because he's catnip to me and probably always will be; if nothing else, I've always been fond of the guy who is either great or hurt, because he doesn't kill you.

But Harden-With-Care is absolutely stone-cold due to get taken down this year, and all of the coddling that Cap'n Lou Pinella can do isn't going to stop that. The man's just not built to throw more than 150 innings in a year, and after last year's mini-CC act, the price you'll pay for those innings is probably too great.

8) Ryan Braun, OF, Milwaukee Brewers. This one is almost entirely a hunch, as there's a lot to like about Ryno; he's young, in a position that doesn't get in his head defensively, and on a team that looks primed to score some runs this year. So why don't I like him? He's just unconsciously streaky, and from watching him, I just get the sense that he's the kind of guy that isn't quite comfortable being the top dog. With Prince Fielder seemingly on his way out of town (he's represented by Scott Boras, which is to say, he's represented by an agent that doesn't sign deals with non-MLB+ teams), that's the role they'll need from him.

9) Lance Berkman, 1B, Houston Astros. Another guy coming off a career year, and on the wrong side of 32. You might not be able to get away from him, given the shallow state of top-drawer first basemen, but you're not getting a .420 OBA and 18 SBs again.

10) David Ortiz, DH, Boston Red Sox. Want to make Red Sox Fan angry? Tell him or her that Big Papi is Big Over. For everyone that thought that the winter off would bring back the quicks to the bat that he lost after the wrist problem last year, I give you his work in the WBC, which looked a heck of a lot more like Slow October Papi than the old crusher. When you weigh as much as he does, the decline is not gradual, and while he'll still keep the OBA, I'm not seeing a return to those halcyon days of yon. This is also a guy that should really start using more of the field; that defensive shift on him is paying real dividends.

Monday, March 23, 2009

The NCAAs Are Not Allowed To Be Boring

With all four number one seeds going on to the Sweet 16, and an almost unbearable amount of chalk being thrown around (seriously, you'd have gone 22-10 just picking the high seed in round 1, and 15-1 with the high seeds in round 2)...

Well, it must be a really fantastic tournament, right?

The NCAA tournament has reached the level of NFL season in terms of being in a more or less every season hype monster. If the low seeds are upset, it's crazy exciting, best weekend in sports, etc., etc.

If the picks stay chalk, well, wow, what matchups we've got in the final rounds.

Um, far be it for me to call bullsquat here, but from where I sit, so far this tournament looks like the Big East tournament, only with more ballast. Perhaps UNC and Duke will make it an ACC run again, or maybe Gonzaga will finally pay off all of those years of teasing...

But well, no one watches the first two rounds of the tournament hoping for nothing more amazing than a single double digit seed (Arizona, who hardly fits the profile of a From Nowhere team anyway).

So I'm asking, from the point of view of someone who watched little more than Flynn and Devendorf as they kept my Orangemen alive... have these first four days been dull?

And if not, what is?

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Your Annual Women's Basketball Post

Ball State pulled off a big upset tonight, knocking off Pat Summit's fabled Vols.

I have nothing more to add to this, other than to note that Ball State's team is called the Cardinals, which is really just a marketing opportunity gone to waste. You couldn't call them anything more suggestive or risque than that? Give me the Lady Matadors, the Donkey Punchers, the Walnuts, the Danglers, the Rockers...

Come on, people. There's money to be made here!

All Hail Our New Japanese Overlords

In the WBC tonight, Japan 9, USA 4, and your WBC Final will be Japan versus the South Koreans.

Now, you might want to credit Daisuka Matsuzaka for the win, and give props to the electric relief work of Yu Darvish; the latter, especially, is hardcore. But that's really not in the tone of the blog, so here's your Top 6 Goats...

6) Derek Jeter. A crucial error that led to the Japanese explosion in the sixth inning, which made a manageable 4-6 deficit into the 4-9 final. How much longer is the statute of limitations on Jeet being clutch, anyway?

5) Adam Dunn. His career as a National can start now with the proper feel, as his deer in the headlights strikeout in the ninth gave this the perfect Terence Long-ish moment. He also took the Oh Fer Sucking Out Loud tonight with three K's, and there's a reason why beer league guys that sabermetric freaks drool over aren't, you know, actually present on teams that win championships. The faster this guy gets to an AL team and a DH role, the better.

4) David Wright. Also had an error to go with his perfect A-Rodish CYA RBI double and .281 average. No one will point the finger at him, but for a guy that's clearly the best third baseman in MLB as people draft today, they needed a lot more than this.

3) Roy Oswalt. Betrayed by his defense, but you're going to get that with 7 baserunners in 3.2 innings, and four of the six runs were earned. His 9.82 WBC ERA was indicative of the biggest reason why the Americans aren't going to win this year, and probably won't in the future, either: starting pitching. When Akinoria Iwamura is beating you senseless, it's not good.

2) Jake Peavy. A 14-run ERA that was so bad, manager Davey Johnson skipped him for Oswalt. Any post mortem of the US effort in the WBC will begin and end with the Mercy Rule Meltdown against Puerto Rico, and that was all on Peavy.

1) Davey Johnson. Has been just dying to pull the trigger and forfeit due to various injuries. His decision to go for Oswalt over Peavy didn't work out tonight, and why anyone on this earth would have Jeter at shortstop and Jimmy Rollins at designated hitter, in a game that you are supposed to want to win...

Well, dumb managers get what they deserve. And it's not like anyone is giving Johnson a job at managing in MLB now. For every really good reason.

This Just In: The Sacremento Kings Are Really, Really Bad

With two fantasy league starters and the promised goodness of a matchup against the worst team in the league, I tuned in to the Sixers-Kings game.

And, um, hoo boy, are the Kings awful.

How bad are they? Well, the Sixers gave Kareem Rush playing time tonight. In fact, a good amount of it, the most he's had since December. Rush has played in two other games in the last two months. And it's not because the Sixers were having injury concerns, or that they didn't need the game; it was just because they could, and with a game looming tomorrow night in Portland, there was no reason not to.

The lead was 28 a little more than a minute into the second half, and it was closer than it should have been, because the Kings' "offense" of dribbling it up court and having a player shoot a crazy long three pointer was more effective than you might imagine. And yes, I know, what else was I expecting from a 15-54 team and all, but good grief, they are terrible. Philly set a new record for points in the first half for this season with 69... beating their previous record which was set on, you guessed it, the Kings.

(The Kings actually made it a game late behind Spencer Hawes slowly accumulating triple double numbers and Francisco Garcia getting a season high from made threes, but I never felt compelled to rewrite the lede here. Make of that what you will. Your final score was Sixers 112, Kings 100.)

There is a palpable feel and stink to a bad pro basketball team. The lifelessness of the defensive rotations, the abandon in which the opponent drives to the hoop, the zeal in which opposing star players start working, because they know that tonight is the night that you are not going to have to pace yourself, and that if you are going to get numbers, you will need them in the first three quarters, because your ass will likely be bench-bound in the fourth; it's all very recognizable to someone who came up in the Doug Moe Era in Philadelphia. Andre Iguodala had been struggling with his shot in the last couple of games; tonight he hit his first 10 in a row. Bad teams have a way of doing that.

But for this all to happen in a wildly enthusiastic setting like Sacremento, where the locals care way too much because they are the only game in town, and the team won 55 games just a couple of years ago... well, it's hard to imagine, really, that a franchise could fall this far, this fast, without some sort of catastrophe happening on the court or in the owner's box.

Sheesh, even last year, they had 38 wins and were in the playoff hunt.

There's also the *way* in which the Kings lose. Bank shots that miss the rim entirely. Turnovers are common, and not from attempts at spectacular passes; just from the routine, day-in, day-out kind of throws that you never see sail in to the stands from a decent team. They must have hit the sideline monitors a half dozen times tonight. No player stands out as a plus offensive or defensive player, and they don't move the ball in any way that might convince you that Pete Carill is drawing a paycheck.

Of course, they don't defend worth a damn, and didn't even in the glory days. The most speed I might have seen from a Kings employee tonight might have been from the mascot. He had hops, too.

Word has it that the Kings aren't long for Northern California, with the Maloofs looking to take them to Vegas or Anaheim or God knows where else. The next place will get a team with no real signature player. Kevin Martin gets numbers, but has no game that puts fear into any opponent. Rookie Jason Thompson may be tolerable, but they need a lot more than that. Hawes wound up with 17 points, 11 boards and 9 assists tonight, and for the life of me, I can't remember any of his points.

More telling about the Kings is that the owners seem to have lost their taste for this sort of thing. How else can you explain locking up Beno Udrih, a career mediocrity as a back up point guard, to a five-year, $32 million deal? Or failing to get anything meaningful in trades that moved veterans John Salmons and Brad Miller? Is anyone even still trying here?

But at least they beat the Knicks the other night, which means that they won't be the first team in the history of the league to lose every game they played against the opposing conference. So there's that. Oh, and they also will have the most lottery balls in next year's hopper, which is shaping up to be one of the worst drafts in recent history; maybe they'll wind up with Blake Griffin, who looks like another meh pro to me. Plus, they'll have lots of money under the cap to try to lure a premier free agent to a one-team cow town that might be on the move. Good luck with all of that.

For the Sixers, the win gives them a 2-2 road trip so far, with wins against the Lakers and Kings, and losses to the Suns and Warriors. Realistically, it's what you'd expect from the trip. if not quite the order you'd predict. If they can somehow pull out a win on the fourth game in five nights in Portland against the rested Blazers, they have a winning trip.

And despite the de facto bye they got tonight, I'm not really expecting it. Portland, unlike the Kings, are actually trying to win games.

Where Amazing Salary Dumps Happen

Today in San Antonio, the Rockets took out the Spurs. That would be remarkable enough, really, given that this is the time of the year that the Spurs historically put the throttle down and get into disturbingly efficient killing mode, especially against a Rockets team that doesn't have Tracy McGrady (naturally) and traded away its starting point guard (Rafer Alston).

But hey, Yao Ming can do some things, right? And so can Testy, since he's still in that first year good guy stage. But, um, no. The fingerprints on this loss were entirely those of Luis Scola, who had 19 points, 17 boards, 4 assists, 3 steals and was the high man in plus/minus at +14, the highest on his team. Rockets 87, Spurs 85.

So who is Luis Scola? An Argentine power forward who the Spurs drafted in 2002. He never played a minute for that club, in part due to difficulty getting him away from his club team, and in part because, well, the Spurs have little need for a power forward given the presence of Tim Duncan. In 2007, San Antonio essentially gave Scola away to the Rockets along with big stiff Jackie Butler for cash, a second round pick, and a tax deduction named Vassilis Spanoulis. Scola finished third in the rookie of the year voting last year, and he's giving them 12.6 points, 8.7 boards, and shooting 53% from the field -- all of them up from his good rookie year.

This is, in all likelihood, Scola's ceiling; he's 28, after all, and while he knows what he's doing on the floor, he's certainly not a lockdown defensive player. But it's interesting, on some level, just how convoluted the salary cap makes the NBA. Here the Spurs had to more or less move an asset for very little to an arch-rival, just to make sure that they didn't go over the cap, or create a logjam at a position where they already had a star.

The closest corollary I can think of here is Raheem Brock having a career in Indianapolis for the Colts, after the Eagles drafted the Temple product in the seventh round, then overspent on signing their rookies and had to give him up. Baseball teams sell off assets all the time, of course, but rarely this blatant, and usually not in ways that could cause them a head to head loss that matters.

And, of course, Scola's also not likely to do this again in the playoffs, so on some level, you have to wonder how much it matters. But right now, with the Rockets ahead of the Spurs in the hyper-tight West, the answer is: a lot. And in a way that no other league does...

(And here's the YouTube link of the clinching plays, brought to you by commenter John over at Mundo Albiceleste. For more on the game, go check his site out.)

Hugo's Not Gonna Like That

Re-enacting the same kind of vibe as when the least Dutch looking group of athletes ever knocked off the Dominicans, it's the South Koreans taking down my pick to win, the Venezuelans. The Koreans go to the finals, and will either face the Japanese or Americans.

You'd like to wax rhapsodic about the scrappy Koreans, but really, Hugo Chavez's team lost this one when Johan Santana claimed an ouchie and went home. Carlos Silva is one of those guys that "pitches to contact", and that's right up there with "knowing the system" and "being a game manager" in the list of compliments that you want to avoid as an athlete. Someone with the name of Yoon Suk-Min gave the Koreans a quality start, Bobby Abreu continued his long slow slide into obsolescence based on awful defensive play, and over 40 thousand people paid to see this in Los Angeles. All was right in Commissioner Bud's world.

Are the Koreans really ready to be our new baseball overlords? No, of course, not, because that means the WBC actually has some consequences or isn't a complete joke. But who knows, maybe this will mean Silva a spot in a Caracas jail on some trumped up charge from the Hugonots. That's something that Seattle Fan could also really get behind...

Friday, March 20, 2009

Driving (Down) Miss Grady, or Death in the Outfield

One of the things that I've noticed in prepping for my various leagues, and in reading way too many scouting reports from way too many sources, is this.

I'm really not overwhelmed by the selections at outfielder this year. And considering how, historically, outfield is where you can always find a replacement level or better bat, that's not good.

Here are the top ten OFs in fantasy, according to the Yahoo rankings.

Grady Sizemore

Ryan Braun

Josh Hamilton

BJ Upton

Alfonso Soriano

Carlos Beltran

Carlos Quentin

Carlos Lee

Carl Crawford

Manny Ramirez

Forgive me, if some level, I'm not overwhelmed. (I know, people would really rather have Quentin, Lee or Crawford over the Man Ram, after what he did in Dodger Laundry last year? I'm not feeling that, at least not in a standard re-draft league. But that's a whole 'nother kettle of fish.)

It starts with Sizemore, a very nice player who, well, just doesn't scream out #1 OF. If you play with BA instead of OBA (well, you're an idiot, but it is the default setting), you are only getting four categories instead of five, and elite but not overwhelming (i.e., sub 40) homers and steals.

Grady is still young enough to get better, and I love me the 30/30 guys, but this used to be the kind of player you would got in the second round. If he wasn't still 24 and on the upswing, he'd be Carlos Beltran -- good, but never the top guy.

Second up is Ryan Braun, the emerging third-year slugger from Milwaukee. Here, you are buying power and lots of it... but you also get it in a guy that was wildly inconsistent last year, with months where he didn't do much at all. He's a very good player, just not what you think of as the #2 OF. (He's also, of course, a failed infielder, and while that might not seem relevant right now, it will be later. Stay with me on this.)

Josh Hamilton is third, and I personally think he could easily deliver top pick value this year... but he won't steal more than a dozen bases, and he does have that history of off-season self-inflicted wounds to keep you on guard. I think he'll hit 40+ HRs this year and lead the AL in RBIs, but there is a reason that someone who is this good isn't with his first organization.

We'll move to the speed round here...

BJ Upton is fantastic, but has shown some attitude issues and an injury history, and no one really knows if he can keep it together enough to play to his talent level... Alfonso Soriano is probably on the down side now, and given his relative disinterest in taking walks, the down slope could be steep... Carlos Beltran has been very consistent and useful as a Met, but always less than spectacular, since he's usually no more than the third or fourth best player on just his own team... Carlos Quentin is on his second team and has had one really good year that ended early with injury; in this market, that makes him the #6 OF... Carlos Lee doesn't run and won't start to at his age, and plays for a terrible team that should limit his RBI opportunities... Carl Crawford is coming off a lost injury year and has never provided even average homers and RBIs... and Manny Ramirez is, well, freaking insane, 36 going on 37, and prone to all kinds of self-inflicted silliness. He can't possibly have the year he had last year, because he can't possibly continue to care this much.

Now, are there values to be had in the outfield? Of course. Will a bunch of these guys overcome their question marks and be worth their draft positions or better? Sure.

But the bigger point remains that the best and brightest baseball players, the ones with the most natural talent at hitting the tar out of the ball, are not patrolling the outfield.

Compare the best of the best (Sizemore, Braun and Hamilton) versus the top three shortstops (Hanley Ramirez, Jose Reyes and Jimmy Rollins). HanRam hits with as much power as Sizmore; all three infielders steal loads more bases, and are less risky given their past record of performance. Even in a position-free counting game, you're probably going with the shortstops.

If you think that's an unfair comparison, let's try first base, where you get to go against Albert Pujols, Miguel Cabrera and Mark Teixeira. Only the fact that no first baseman contributes much in steals keeps this from going to the cornermen. And if A-Rod were starting the year healthy, the comparison with third base (others in the triumvirate there are David Wright and Evan Longoria) would also be surprisingly close to the infielders.

Now, maybe this is just because baseball has evolved, with more accurate offensive statistics and defensive statistics giving GMs more of an inclination to keep the people that have the very best tools in the place where they can make the most impact. Maybe it's just the second generation Cal Ripken Effect, where baseball players grew up dreaming of being in the infield and wouldn't take you're too big for an answer. Perhaps it's just reflecting the influx of foreign players, since so many of those star names aren't born in the USA. Maybe it's just a temporary cycle that doesn't really merit a conspiracy theory.

Or maybe, and this is the nasty little secret, baseball isn't attracting nearly the same number of elite athletes, and is just funneling what they have into the places where they will make the most difference. Because, well, and with no disrespect to Mr. Sizemore... if he's the very best that MLB has to offer in the position that takes up a third of the at bats, that's not really the baseball world I grew up in. Or yours, for that matter.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

What No One Knows About Fantasy Baseball

Jose Reyes. David Wright. Carlos Beltran.

They all get to deal with high outfield walls, all the way around, at their new place. Don't expect much help for home runs there.

C.C. Sabathia. Mariano Rivera. Joba Chamberlain.

These guys all have 20 feet of less foul ground behind home plate to work with in half of their games this year. You're crazy if you don't think that will add up to extra pitches and stress.

Johan Santana. Francisco Rodriguez. John Maine.

The blue pitchers will be dealing with all kinds of nooks and crannies that could lead to extra base opportunities in the outfield. It's also going to have significantly different wind patterns, given how it's, well, not in the same place as to old hole. Could play a lot of havoc with breaking pitches.

Mark Teixeria. Alex Rodriguez (assuming he ever comes back). Derek Jeter.

While the new place does have less foul ground near home plate, it does have a little more in the outfield. The place also has a very different outfield configruation and batters eye, since Monument Park has moved.

The point? I was in Northern California when Pac Bell opened. On its first day, balls flew out of the park in a 6-5 Dodgers win, with noted power hitter Kevin Elser (88 home runs in 13 years) going yard three times. The locals were convinced they had a bandbox. Of course, they didn't, and don't; Pac Bell is one of the top five pitchers' parks in the majors. In the first game at Petco, Marques Grissom, of the career .415 slugging percentage, was the only man to go deep in a 4-3 home win.

Every new stadium architect tells you that their place will play "fair", neither helping not hurting the hitter or pitcher, respectively. And they all lie, especially in the modern era, where you can make an ungodly amount of cabbage charging rich people a lot of money to sit close enough so that a line drive in the game they aren't watching could kill them.

If and when you take these guys, all you can hope is that their new yards play like their old ones, because that's the only basis for comparison you have to go to. And considering that, depending on how infested your league is with Mets and Yankee Fan, all of the guys that I just named will go in the first ten rounds. Or much, much less.

Happy drafting!

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

I Got Your MVP Right Here

I sat down tonight with a sense of doom for my treasured laundry, as the Sixers started a five game road trip in Los Angeles against the Kobes. Considering that the Cavs had already won by the time of the opening tip, meaning that the Lake Show had to win to keep pace for best overall record (and home court, and Kobe's MVP hopes), I didn't have much hope for a win. But the first game of a road trip is usually when have your best legs, and the team has won their last three, so...

The first half began badly, with the starting unit stumbling around, but the Lakers didn't take full advantage. The bench play of Lou Williams got it back to a 4 point deficit at the end of the first. In the second, Williams kept up his great play, Andre Iguodala was able to get Kobe to the bench with foul trouble, and Thaddeus Young continued to assert himself. Hell, even Samuel Dalembert played well, despite Pau Gasol carrying the home team. Only a long Sasha Vujacic three, and the road team's continued inability to score from the 3-point line, kept them from a lead. At the half, it was 50-50.

In the third, Kobe picked up his fourth on yet another cheap shot on Iggy -- seriously, if this was the playground, Kobe should be missing some teeth -- continuing to point to a close game. Unfortunately for the Sixers, less Kobe just means more Gasol and Lamar Odom, and like most teams in the Association, coping with the Lakers' big men is a serious problem. With Kobe on the bench, the Lakers expanded the lead with good ball movement and better defense, and at the end of three, it was Lakers 73, Sixers 62 -- the home team's largest lead of the game, closing the quarter on a 10-0 run.

Iguodala got hot in the fourth, and after a Donyell Marshall (wow, he's still in the league, and even useful in small doses, seeing how he's shooting 61% from the three-point line in the fourth quarter of games this year) three and an Iguodala three-point play, it was 80-75. Three straight stops and scores even gave the road dogs the lead at 81-80, a 19-4 run to start the fourth. Jackson called time, and as I looked at the box score, the reigning MVP was -9 in plus/minus, on 4 of 11 shooting with 4 turnovers. Not something you see very often.

Kobe missed, and Reggie Evans got a no-call putback that had the home crowd howling. Odom missed the tying three, and Marshall drilled the answer, and it was, amazingly, 86-80 with five minutes to play. Trevor Ariza got an answering three, Royal Ivey forced a bad miss, and after a Laker team rebound after a Jordan Farmer miss, Ivey redeemed himself with a steal and assist to Williams. Kobe forced a horrible three, but Marshall couldn't keep the board, and Gasol got a putback.

Kobe then (finally) passed out of the double-team to Gasol, who was fouled by Marshall at the rim. Miller missed a flat footed, no one near him three -- just, in a nutshell, what keeps him being an elite guard. Odom replies with a deuce, but Marshall gives the road team the lead again with a three, just unreal, his third in seven minutes after not playing a minute all night. After a long three miss, the Lakers did the smart thing of getting the ball to Gasol, who abused Marshall for two three throws for the tie, with 100 seconds to go.

Williams gets to the rim, but can't finish; Evans can't get the board. Kobe misses again. Miller turns it over. Gasol misses a layup where Evans got away with contact. Williams goes to the rim again, but Gasol denies him. Wild action, back and forth, no time outs, just the kind of end-game you never see, but always should.

And then, in what you would think would be the only moment that anyone will notice or remember thanks to SportsCenter Nation, Kobe hits over Iguodala with 6.6 seconds left to give the home team a 93-91 lead. Just wrong. With the make, Kobe is now 5 for 15. What an MVP...

And just as I was putting this to bed with hate, Iguodala hits the game-winning three over Ariza for the win. The refs look at the tape, and screw you, Kobe. Ballgame, Sixers.

THAT. WAS. AWESOME.

(Oh, and in the post-game interview, Iggy tells us that he waved off the coach's idea of getting to the rim, saying he was going to win the game right here. Well, all right then, Mr. 1 for 7 from the arc, Mr. Thirty Percent Three Point Shooter, Mr. FREAKING AWESOME. You have Large Sack.

* * * * *

Honestly, between the three point failures and the big man defense moments, watching the Sixers is like watching a pro version of the old-time John Chaney Temple Owls. At one point in the third, the game was tied, and the Sixers had 15 more shot attempts. Hard way to win games.

The thing about this Sixers team is that despite their obvious and should be crushing failings, they remain compelling. When they bring defensive intensity, with Dalembert blocking shots, they appear to be much more than the sum of their parts. When Miller is working the ancient kung fu magic that is a mid-range game (honestly, is there any other point guard outside of college that routinely makes bank shots?), it's downright retro-cool.

And when Iguodala is hitting from outside and fooling you into thinking that he's a top 20 player, or when Young appears to be on the cusp of actual stardom...

Well, a man can dream of an actual first-round playoff series win. Not that it can realistically happen, not without some dependable half-court scoring options (and yes, that's why they signed Elton Brand) and some actually consistent three point production. Too many things have to go well for this team to win, and at the top levels in the Assocation, that just doesn't happen.

Or, um, does it? Jack Nicholson is slapping some starlet right now, just to show me that sometimes, the world does go my way. Good to know.

A final point. I've seen bad Sixers teams; I've seen unwatchable ones. I've also seen frustrating or exasperating squads that squandered their talents, got their coach fired, and more or less insulted the intelligence of anyone that spent time on them.

This team isn't one of those. Not by a long shot. Go, team, go.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Auction Love

In the next 11 days, I'll be drafting three fantasy baseball teams, with the first event happening in two days. That's the head to head league that's mostly comprised of co-workers and ex co-workers (you have to love this economy, you really do), and it's the first time I've been in it. The trash talk is pretty rife, which is intriguing given that no one's even made a pick yet, and I barely know most of the people I'm competing against.

Next Monday, I'll draft another head to head league, against a bunch of folks who I've been playing against, off and on, for most of the decade. Last year, due to my schedule, I opted out, and while I'm not completely thrilled with the idea of being three leagues (it's officially one too many, unless the leagues in question vary dramatically in scope, like having an AL-only and an NL-only set-up)... well, it'll be nice to play against some of these guys again. Assuming, of course, that I actually do well. If my team stinks, it'll be nothing but misery.

And finally, there's the keeper / auction league that I commish and host, which will happen on Saturday the 28th.

Now, which league do you think has dominated my thoughts?

Yup. The keeper league. And it's not even close.

It is just, simply, a superior product. Instead of working over the same old rankings that you see everywhere, having no real emotional attachment to any particular player, I'm agonizing over whether I should keep the guys that I have on my roster. Sure, they frequently disappointed me, and the market *should* value them less this year, in case I want to try to get them back again... but hell, I kept them all year for a reason, didn't I?

And it's not just me. The league has been live with rule changes, trades and trade requests, planning and preparations for what to do with the room. I've gotten e-mails from owners who haven't been very active, wondering what I think the auction will be like this year, in terms of values. Everyone is angling for low priced protectable players, stud starting pitchers, and just about everything in between.

Oh, and the actual draft prep is also dramatically more interesting. Several MLB teams are actively planning to keep some top prospects down at the start of the year, so that the "clock" on their service time doesn't start too early. In a normal league, this more or less takes them out of the running; the disadvantage in a shallow bench head to head league is just too strong to hold on a rookie who will only be up for a portion of the season, especially in a league with daily moves.

In an auction/keeper league, they are all very much in play, and in a myriad number of ways. Do you name them early, in the hopes that you can suck out big money from the market from an owner that just has to have the hot young things? Or do you hold and hold and hold on them, hoping that you can draft them late, when the money's out of the market and you are more likely to get them for the super-low price that could mean a protectable player for years and years to come?

I know the drawback of a keeper and auction league; time on draft day. I'm fully expecting this to take up my entire day, and that's not even counting all of the prep work in advance of the event. But dammit, if you're going to commit to a massive timesuck -- and there is nothing more time-consuming in fantasy than baseball, which is why so many football guys consider taking a team to be an act of utter masochism -- then you owe it to yourself to experience the full red blood variety.

And no, we don't have any spots open, but if you want, email and get on the waiting list.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Why does anyone think there is an NBA MVP race?

Association fans seem to be frothing at the mouth about a three-way race for the top dog spot. Let's begin, and hopefully end, with some numbers.

LeBron James - 28.5 points per game, 7.5 rebounds, 7.2 assists, 1.76 steals, 1.27 blocks, shooting 48.7% from the floor and 77.2% from the line. The Cavs are 53-13.

Kobe Bryant - 28.0 ppg, 5.4 rpg, 4.9 apg, 1.27 spg, .47 bpg, shooting 47.5% from the floor and 86.8% from the line. The Lakers are 53-13.

Dwayne Wade - 29.9 ppg, 5.1 rpg, 7.6 apg, 2.26 spg, 1.41 bpg, shooting 49.3% from the floor and 76.7% from the line. The Heat are 36-30.

Now, let's see. One player has the best numbers in five categories, but his team is only six games over .500. Another has the best record in the toughest conference (and I'm sorry, West fans, but that's no longer you -- six out of the seven worst records in the league belong to you, and seeing how you don't have the defending NBA champions, the only argument you've got for being the better conference is historical), along with terrific all-around numbers; he's also got a pretty ordinary supporting cast. The final guy is more or less having the same year he's had for the past five years, give or take a little better shooting and less boards and assists, because his minutes are down.

And the choice for MVP is... um, really, still Kobe? At least for the Lemur's Chris Sheridan, who might be just trying to do that Bad Tooth thing that sports radio does, or might just be a freaking idiot.

Look, I don't have that much skin in the game. I'm not a Heat fan, or a Cavs fan, and my Laker Hate is greatly exceeded by my Celtic Hate, my general Spur Disdain, and my continued Maverick Shadenfraude. I like my Sixers, and fah on all of you for not feeling the love for our 6th seed finish and one-and-done against the Dwight Howards. But honestly, what exactly does the best player in the league have to do to be recognized as such?

Unlike the reigning MVP, King James does not have an All-Star offensive center with kitten-soft hands in his prime (aka, Pau Gasol). Kobe has the coach with the most rings of any active active, while LeBron has to make do with a guy (Mike Brown) that frequently does not seem to be able to find his sizable pantload with both hands and a map.

It's not even like the voters are rewarding the proven playoff performer. Kobe's el foldos against the Suns and Celtics were something even his most ardent apologists have a hard time getting past, where LeBron has fairly heroic doomed efforts against a home-court Celtics team that had three out of the four best players in the series, and a Spurs team that enjoyed similar representation.

Oh, and there's also this. LeBron James has never been accused in a public court of anal rape, along with an admitted case of marital infidelity. Pardon me for failing to Obey My Thirst and just forget about all of that. Pardon me, really, as the father of daughters for *never* forgetting that, and thinking that but for his money and fame, he'd be doing just about the hardest time that there is. And a final pardon, really, for making you remember that your hero had to defend his use of the back door screen in a jury setting.

Now, if you want to argue that Dwayne Wade should be the MVP, I'll take that. He's got ridiculous talent, slightly better numbers than LeBron, and unlike Kobe, isn't just having the same year he always has. I'd argue that the Heat would need to at least get into the top 4 in the East to make Wade a remote argument, but they do still have a fifth of the season to play, and that's not impossible. I'd still probably not buy the argument, because the Heat won't be catching the Cavs on record, and I think their talent is quite comparable. But at least you'd have an argument.

But this abject Kobe Worship... you do realize, Sheridan and the rest of Mamba Harem, that no matter how much you kiss the loon's ass, he still likes it a little rougher than that, right? Just, um, checking...

Today's Top Tools: Challenger, Gray and Christmas

We're very excited to debut a new feature on the blog today, just in time for that hateful memo from your HR department in re the use of the Web. The Tool of the Day will be awarded to people in sports who earn our extra special attention... and who better to kick things off than the the latest annual bullsquat numbers from those killjoy numbnuts at Challenger, Gray and Christmas on how much March Madness is killing the American Overlord?

It will come as little surprise to you that C, G & C's real expertise comes in helping Overlords hand out pink slips with abandon, or that their numbers are filled with rich, savory horse flop. That won't stop the ever-lazy media from just regurgitating their annual greedhead press release, right?

So rather than be bitter about this, or wonder why C, G & C don't give equal time to the productivity menace that is Girl Scout Cookie Season, women daring to have their menstrual periods during working hours, or the work force dying at times that aren't convenient to management, let me just close with my own statistics for the media to pass along. I promise that they have the same intellectual rigor and devotion to an agenda-free service of the truth as the best that C, G & C have to offer.

> During the creation of this year's findings, C, G and C personally increased productivity in their own office by providing the top PR placement officer with his or her very own American house slave

> The 14 Americans who were specifically terminated for their productivity failures during the 2008 men's basketball tournament have all, miraculously, managed to find equally crappy jobs this year, and plan no change in behavior during this year's event

> Every single employee at C, G and C went to Duke

> Any actual drop in production will be more than offset by people staying at their desks later, cutting out discussion of other non-work related interests and activities, and generally being, you know, adults

> The amount that C, G and C raises their estimate every year is exactly proportional to the increase in spending among senior management for impotence cures

Iraqi Fan Wants It More

A fun soccer note today, where a spectator at an amateur Iraqi soccer game showed real initiative in shooting and killing an opposing player after he scored.

Once again, the media fails to report the whole story here. Does the murdered team get to choose who goes into the game next, or is that up to the murdering side, a la the NBA when an injured player can't shoot free throws?

I have to say, I think it sends the wrong message if the victim's team loses an advantage there.

(Oh, and Eagle Fan who has failed for lo these many years to bust a cap in Terrible's ass? Consider yourself served by Iraqi Fan, who clearly just wants it more. Go check yourselves, please.)

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Just Take My Money Already

So the Poker Story has turned bitter, my children, and I know you could care less, but I can't afford therapy thanks to my donkey ways at the table, so...

On Valentine's Day, I had the best night of my life on the felt and made good coin. Five times since then I've played cards with people for money, and five times since, my wallet has regretted it.

The really nice thing is that the losses have been all over the place. I've had nights where I've been just plain card dead, and nights when I've just been outplayed. Some nights, I've had bad beats; other times, I've had the feeling that I was broadcasting my hole cards on my face, and should just have the hands dealt face up to me to make things a little less obvious.

Some nights, I've been too tight; others, too loose. When I've slow-played high pairs, they've been cracked; when I raised them pre-flop, everyone bailed and I made nothing but the blinds. It's been a joy.

Sensing my weakness, the game that I host finally broke through into the fabled Two Table stage, with 14 players making it the Friday the 13th event. That went so well that I took Nyquil afterward and slept for 24 hours, dreaming of unemployment and homelessness. Good times!

There's still room for a few more at the Home Game -- hell, maybe I'll just deal from now on -- and you never know how many players will keep coming back, so if you're local and interested, there's still seats available... but probably for not much longer, because once we get to, say, 18, we're out of table spots, and the room can't really fit that many people anyway. So long as the host is tossing out free money, I'm thinking we'll have a popular game. (And no, this isn't a case of crying poor to get some new fish into the net. Right now, I'm the fish, and I come with my own pan and spices. Dig in.)

A Small Note to the Lemur's Coverage of the World Baseball Classic

Yes, it's amusing, shocking, amazing or all of the above when Team USA loses on the mercy rule to Puerto Rico. (And yes, kids, this officially puts me deep in the black of finding things to fill the bloghole with today.)

No, it doesn't mean that there is something wrong with us as a country that we're not giving this august experience the prestige and importance that it deserves. And the same goes for the Olympics, or the Little League World Series, or any other short-series experience that you can name.

What it means, really, is that Baseball Is A Funny Game, prone to all kinds of low sample size weirdness. If the worst team in baseball somehow found itself into the World Series against the best team, it would win a third of the time.

And that's just factual, really; it happens every year in MLB with top teams struggling against crud teams. Greatness is determined over time and at bats and innings and lots of them, and while jumping to conclusions is fun, it also leaves you looking real silly real fast. Consider the case of the mighty Cubans, who were being written up as clearly the best team in the WBC before today, when they went down meekly, 6-0, to the Japanese. I caught their act today, and it looked like they didn't have a single player who was at all interested in working a pitch count. (It also doesn't mean that Japan, with their 0.79 team ERA, is a clear next best pick; that's a lineup that's utterly devoid of power.)

Are the Americans prone to treating the WBC as Spring Training in different uniforms? Of course; they should. Will there ever be a truly meaningful international event in baseball, a la the soccer World Cup? Well, maybe, but if so, it won't be an annual event that happens in March; it'll be a lot more involved than that, because it will have a heckuva lot more countries involved.

And if you need to rail against a country and their culture for what happens in a short series sports event... well, that just says more about the writer than it does the event. It's not such a good thing, either.

I'll See You In October, With A Gun

Perhaps the only positive development in the past few years for newspapers in this country has been the growth of the Departing Athlete Ad, in which the ex-wearer of the laundry tells the people just how much he's appreciates the past X years.

Pat Burrell's entry into the field is below, and on some level, I'm disappointed. What an opportunity has been missed here. Where's the bitterness towards the losers who booed him, the organization that chose to replace him with a left-handed hitter who is four years older than him, or, if nothing else, one last jibe into how much he enjoyed unleashing holy hell on the choke artist Mets? If nothing else, tell us how much you're going to miss freezing your ass off in the crappy Philly weather, or how you're so happy to have finally made some real money from a team that knows how to reward a star like you.

C'mon, Pat. Show a little originality.

Boo, Pat, boooooo.... you could had been so much better. Now, when Jim Eisenreich left, *his* letter was great!

Madness Sadness

Just in case some of you are new to the blog and wondering what we're going to do for the NCAA Mens' Basketball Tournament, the answer is...

In all likelihood, not nearly enough to make you happy.

You see, my own personal interest in the tournament is entirely limited to how far my alma mater, the Orangemen of Syracuse University, go. And after their overtime-riffic weekend in New York City, my guess on that amount is Not Very Far At All.

I could, of course, write the same piece that you'll see in any number of other sites in the next few days -- the wacky name column, the will this be the year that a #1 seed finally loses a first round game piece, or the gripe work over how the play-in game is not, in fact, worth anyone's time or attention -- but, frankly, there's just not enough time in the day to be all things to all people, and there's just too much to know about college ball to try and pick it up on the fly.

Which isn't meant to denigrate the power of the tournament, which remains, at least at the start, probably the best four-day stretch in sports. You'd also think that, given the ridiculous popularity of this thing, that the NCAA would learn a lesson and institute a similar set-up for football. Imagine, if you would, the interest and betting involved in a 64-team, single elimination tournament where teams are playing every few days (and no, I don't much care that some players might get hurt from the rapid turnaround, or that they'd miss too much claswork, or any other excuse you want to trot out there).

Now, you might still get some Tooly goodness on the tournament from The Truth (a Kansas guy) and Dirty Davey (a UNC man). And if you want to have a pool that's still in play in the late showing, just put in three #1 seeds and be done with it; you'll be right a lot more than you are wrong. Or you could just go ask that clueless woman in the Accounting department, the one that always wins these things, who she likes this year. (And you people wonder why I don't watch this...)

Buy Jay Cutler's House

Just in case you thought that the fracas between Jay Cutler and the Broncos brain trust was entirely a media creation, there's this little moment of reporting...

Well, it seems that the QB from a Town Called Sulk has put his house up for sale, and his parents are also trying to move theirs. Jay's crib is listed for $2 million, but you can get the rent's house for just $835K.

Cutler still has a condo in downtown Denver, so it's not as if he'll be sleeping in the parking lot with the motor running while Masstermind Josh McDaniels tries to deal him for the rights to Drew Bledsoe. Though personally, I'm hoping that McD buys Cutler's place, preferably after a public negotiation that goes very badly...

Spring Into Hope

Today as I worked on the Shooter Fantasy League Rankings (three leagues this year, and yes, I need help), I turned on the Phillies-Cardinals game. Your starter today for the Fightin's is Chan Ho (Pliss) Park, the possible fifth starter and immediately derided off-season free agent acquisition, given that he'a always been an arsonist outside of Chavez Ravine.

Here's the final line for Chan Ho: 4.2 IP, 3 H, 0 Rs, 6 Ks. And that's a Cardinals lineup with Albert Pujols, Rick Ankiel, Ryan Ludwick, Khalil Greene and Colby Rasmus. He had good movement on a lot of breaking stuff, and got some hitters to flail on stuff that bounced. If he didn't have a 61 on his back, you'd be officially encouraged.

The announcers talked about how Jamie Moyer has been helping Park to have more confidence in his change-up, and how he's truly healthy now for the first time in years. He's also grown a freaky three-quarter beard, which just looks all kind of wrong on an Asian gentleman; in his post-pitch interview, I kept expecting him to speak in dubbed dialogue.

(Oh, and nice work by the local affiliate to rarely switch to commercial ion the inning breaks on the HD channel. I knew the economy was bad, but is it so bad as to have no ads at all?)

Now, in the grand scheme of things, does this matter? Probably not: Park has a career 4.34 ERA over 1846 innings for a reason, and the Phils will be his fifth team in the last five years. It's one thing to pitch well in a more or less meaningless preseason game in Clearwater, Florida; it's an entirely different matter when the home crowd is surly and the ball is carrying well to left.

But, well, less of Kyle Kendrick is an almost unquestioned benefit, and it's not as if Park doesn't have the talent and stuff to be an above-average fifth starter and overall asset. If I were drafting in an NL-only deep league, he might be worth a last-round grab. And that, in a nutshell, is why you should never watch spring training games while you are making your rankings...

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Cult Appeal

"Cults often gather around powerful works of the second class. Fans feel that they have to root for them." -- 3/10/09 New Yorker

This was from a piece about the history of scholarship on vampires, which just goes to show you how I smoke crack in coming up with things to fill the bloghole. But you knew that already, right?

Sports are the largest non-religious cult on the planet. They exist in a netherworld between entertainment and news, reality and artifice, and have whatever meaning the user chooses to put on them. They are almost certainly a vice on a personal level and a significant virtue on a community level. The uninterested and the passionate have equal amounts of befuddlement as to how one could possibly choose that level of interest.

But what happens when the cult, as it were, becomes the majority?

The Super Bowl is just about the only telecast that has held its mass audience in our ever-fragmenting media marketplace. Every other event -- even something as meaningful as, say, when a nation goes to war -- gets less audience than this four to five hour orgy of commerce and violence. And it is fascinating to me, on a macro level, to wonder if that will change in my lifetime.

Now, some of this is pure snake oil salesmanship, in that some people are, amazingly, just watching this for the ads, all of which can be seen online now and on many other telecasts in the future. So there will be some deterioration there, though I suspect, not very much. King NFL will still reign over all.

However, and this is the key point... are the games actually getting new viewers, or merely dominating what's currently available?

NFL players are developed in a virtual silo from the rest of humanity. By the time that a promising kid is, say, 12 years old, he's shunted off into an increasingly difficult filtration system that's devised to eventually employ, at most, maybe 1 out of 1,000 players. Outside of the four-year (or less) sink or swim atmosphere of college ball and some almost entirely irrelevant minor leagues, there is no on-the-job training, no late-life conversions, and very few foreign phenoms that come in from outside the approved path. The game is too violent, and the margin between good and not good enough too small, for any of that to kick in. It is, perhaps, the clearest and most effective meat grinder meritocracy in American business. (Which is why, when cults of personality pervert the process, it is so repugnant to the eye. But enough about the last five years of Brett Favre's career.)

With very few exceptions, NFL fans understand this and root for the laundry, despite the predominance of fantasy football. If Terrell Owens, Randy Moss, Ray Lewis, Rae Carruth or Michael Vick helps your laundry win, you are OK with it. If Brian Dawkins, Jerry Rice, Deuce McAllister, Orlando Pace or Jerome Bettis lose their utility, you want them gone, no matter what their past performance has meant.

We root in an inhuman manner.

We would probably not care, on some level, if the players were not human at all.

(Which leads us right back to steroids, but jeez, I write enough about this as is.)

So to be deeply into the NFL is to be indoctrinated, generally at a young age, to the ways and history of a more or less immoral fan base, probably at a time when you didn't have enough other things going on in your life to keep the interest minor. I'm not sure that we do that anymore to our kids, and for the most part, that's a good thing. If my kids got as much into a single thing -- say, Pokemon or their handheld video game or dolls or Star Wars or what have you -- as I did as a kid with sports... well, as a parent, I'd probably see that as less than healthy and try to diversify their interests. (If nothing else, to keep them focused on schoolwork. And this is in no way meant to be a slight on the Shooter Mom, who gets special dispensation for also being, well, an NFL addict.)

Combine this with the hypermarket for tickets, the increasing use of late night games, the highly inappropriate commercials shown during most sporting events (seriously, try to watch the Super Bowl with an 8-year-old girl without cringing; you can't), and the increased perception, if not amount, of serious criminal behavior among players...

Well, you get something that's just not terribly kid-friendly, or at the very least, doesn't seem as interested in being kid-friendly as it did in my formative years. It seems like a short-term (and short-sighted) marketing decision to me, but the NFL isn't exactly looking for advice on how it markets its product. To be fair, by the numbers, it hardly looks like they need any help.

So where do we wind up after this merry little trip around the brainpan? With a list (yes, it's always a list with me) of truths that we hold to be self-evident...

1) Sports are a mature cult.

2) Saturation / membership is probably at an all time high.

3) The money and time commitment that's involved are excluding, and increasingly will exclude, younger generations. (Along with all of the other things they are growing up with, of course.)

We now return you to your regularly scheduled foolishness, secure in the knowledge that if you got through this one, you've also drank deep from the FTT Kool-Aid.

Now, who's up for changing their last name to Shoooter?

The Nature Of The Beast

For the past ten years, the Eagles have employed Tra Thomas to protect Donovan McNabb's blind side. He's done it well, with two All-Pro selections and three Pro Bowls on his resume.

And in perhaps the best testament to his performance, he started 165 out of 166 games. Or that the only time he's really been noticed is (a) when he tried to get his name changed (it didn't work, so he gave up), and (b) when he left.

On the list of things that Eagle Fan will worry about in this off-season, Thomas signing with the Jaguars will be low on the list. After all, he's 34 and not likely to be getting better, the team has an extremely good track record in knowing when to say goodbye, and one has to think that after a decade of making mostly good moves, they know what they are doing in replacing a fixture like him.

But, well, ten years of not worrying about a position is nice, especially given the laundry's history of revolving doors on the offensive line (imagine, if you will, what Randall Cunningham might have done with Tra Thomas and an actual coach, or whether Lawrence Taylor achieves the constant crushing on Ron Jaworski, had they simply had a tackle of Thomas's abilities)...

Well, you can worry, if you like, about the changeover at safety, or whether or not Brian Westbrook is too old for this sort of thing. Me, I'm going to be looking at the line. Hopefully, not for long.

A Small Note To The Lemur

Manny Ramirez is 37 years old.

He's gone to spring training every year since 1993.

It is not particularly newsworthy when he goes this year, either.

MLB Preview: Philadelphia Phillies

"World Champion Philadelphia Phillies."

That's what the receptionist says when you call the team, and you can feel the actual genuine happiness as she does it, despite clearly having this as part of her office routine for the past six months. It's also something that still seems a little unreal. I mean, really -- the Phillies? They didn't have an ungodly payroll, a freakily productive farm system, a witch doctor GM, a tradition of championships... none of that, really. If it weren't for the century of combined failure from the four Philadelphia pro teams, it would have just seemed well, entirely random.

But last year exists, and the Hangover Year potential is strong, of course. It's also not helping that the team that many came to love has been more or less scattered to the winds to date, with Chase Utley rehabbing his hip, Jimmy Rollins and Ryan Howard toiling for the national laundry in the WBC, Pat Burrell exorcised to Tampa Bay and the usual split-squad and extended roster action of the usual spring training.

But let's get to the point: Can they do it again?

In a word, no.

Ruben Amaro Jr. is the GM these days, and here's what he's done...

> Let Burrell walk to bring in Raul Ibanez. Now, Ibanez is a good hitter and will enjoy going to the weaker league and hitter's park. He also is, unfortunately, older and far more left-handed than Pat The Bat, neither of which will play well later in the year, especially against teams that have good left-handed relievers.

> Brought in Chan Ho (Pliss) Park to compete for the fifth spot in the rotation or a bullpen role, at the cost of $2.5 million. Park did put up some useful numbers last year, but he's also 35, has never been useful outside of Chavez Ravine, and also faded last year. Having already seen what happens when Park goes to a hitters park when he was young, why on earth would anyone pay to see what happens when he's old?

> Signed Ronny Paulino to compete for the back-up catcher role. Um, OK, whatever. Carlos Ruiz is 30, Chris Coste is 36, and while both are nice enough players, Paulino at age 27 is a nice fallback, at least until Lou Marson takes over. Hokay, whatever.

So, why can't they repeat, in addition to the two fairly weak personnel moves?

1) Brad Lidge won't be perfect again.

Not to say that he'll be bad, but well, it would be helpful if he were. Considering how improved the Mets are this year, and that the Marlins are absolutely loaded with good your arms, sliding back a game or two could matter. A lot.

2) Jamie Moyer won't go 16-7 with a 3.71 ERA again.

Now, I loves me some Jamie Moyer; I'm hoping like mad that he'll somehow piece together 54 more wins over the next 4 to 5 years and become the Last 300 Game Winner Ever. But in this park, with the miniscule margin for error that any 46-year-old has, let alone one who throws much slower to the catcher than on the way back... well. If you get 12-10 with a 4.5 ERA from a guy that takes the ball every fifth day while eating 180 innings, that's a win, but it's still significantly worse than last year.

3) They'll miss J.C. Romero a lot in the first 50 games.

While Howard, Utley and Rollins get the publicity as perennial MVP candidates, the secret sauce of the team, especially in the playoffs, was the lockdown bullpen work of Lidge, Romero and Ryan Madson. If you were behind after 6 innings, the game was over.

With Romero out, they'll have to lean more on less reliable arms like Park, Chad Durbin, Scott Eyre and others; they've felt good about J.A. Happ, but still, that's a big leap. Last year, the late inning guys were sharp at the end of the year because they hadn't been overused. With Romero gone until June, the chance of that happening again are remote.

4) Lefty overload.

Seriously, the best right handed hitter on the roster, assuming that you don't want to give that designation to switch-hitters Rollins and Victorino, is Jayson Werth. And, well, Werth's 29, and has never stayed healthy in his prior career. Let's just say that I'm not thrilled by the odds that he'll be up to carrying the entire load against top lefty pitchers.

5) Hangover Decisions.

When you win a World Series, there is an inevitable move towards letting some things ride. After all, the champions should get a chance to defend their crown, and how bad could Replaceable Player X be, when they won it all with him last year? For the Phillies, the hidden bummer players of Pedro Feliz (at 33, not getting any better, and little more at this point than a tolerable glove at third), Ruiz/Coste at catcher (neither really shuts down the running game or hit), and, of course, Moyer. I realize that I'm not a nice person for saying that about Moyer.

So long as Cole Hamels is taking the ball, Brett Myers is on one of his good streaks, Cupcakes Blanton above league average and (most importantly) Utley, Rollins and Howard are all healthy and productive... well, there's a reason they have a trophy. But a second seems unlikely. (And no one should have a problem with that, really.)

Prediction: 82-80, third place in the East.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Cutfight

So the Lemur has the story of the continuing miseries arising in Denver, where shockingly young head coach Josh McDaniels and sulking diabetic quarterback Jay Cutler are getting into each other. You might remember how McDaniels entertained the notion of bringing in Matt Cassels when the Brady Backup was being shipped to Kansas City, and how Cutler didn't cotton to such a move, seeing as He's A Star And All.

According to those ever-helpful Lemur Spies (it's nice when they are sowing discord on some other laundry, isn't it?), Cutler has trust issues with McDaniels and doesn't want to be there if the Broncos aren't going to commit to him long-term.

Now, normally, you know... this is football, and Cutler hasn't done a damn thing in the league other than put up some big numbers and get his longtime coach run with a shocking final month collapse that gave the division, such as it was, to the Chargers. So my sympathies aren't particularly with him, especially given his douchey sideline faces; between him an Phil Rivers, Raider and Chief Fan have to be dreaming hard about any clean blindside blitz.

But McDaniels is also far from blameless in this matter. Looking at the Broncos, there were, perhaps, 4 players on the starting roster that were at a championship level: Cutler, WRs Brandon Marshall and Eddie Royal, and CB Champ Bailey (if healthy). Since taking the reins, he's alienated the QB, seen the #1 WR get arrested (yet again), and blown a great deal of money on a 35-year-old safety (Brian Dawkins) that needs to be protected in coverage against tight ends... and oh, the division has, at last count, Tony Gonzalez, Antonio Gates and Zach Miller. (I know, but Miller's actually really good. Look at the numbers, then look at his QB and offense. He's doing a lot with a little.)

For a guy with a sieve for a defense (and no, Dawkins doesn't magically make that go away), there were better ideas than starting a fight with your perfectly good QB. For a team with no real running back (and no, Correll Buckhalter doesn't magically make that go away, either), there were better ideas. Or for a team that's wondering how the new guy will manage, given that he's younger than just about anyone with this job ever, and the talent roster is a gaping void.

But by all means, Patriot Masstermind McDaniels, continue to make things wrong with your QB. I'm sure that will work out well for you...

MLB Preview: Oakland A's

This spring brings hope, but of a different kind than previous. Unlike past years, when hopes were based around players, this year the good feelings are more organizational. With the acquisition of Matt Holliday, Jason Giambi, Orlando Cabrera and Nomar Garciaparra, the team has sent one clear message: this time, we're actually going to try to win games.

That's not a small thing. Last year, riding a spectacular bullpen and better than expected starting pitching, my chosen laundry competed until they shipped out Rich Harden to the Cubs for the Cheap Crap Platter of Matt Murton, Sean Gallagher, a Patterson to be designated later and some other sack of crap. Gallagher might be an MLB player, but the rest don't seem like more than Quad A fodder. Not since the botched Tim Hudson trade had Billy Beane gotten so little from an asset. At least when he shipped Cupcakes Blanton to the Phillies for postseason glory, they got back actual prospects.

Combine a quitting front office with the disaster years turned out by Daric Barton, Bobby Crosby, Ellis, Travis Buck and just about everyone who had a bat in their hands, and you got what last year was -- three months of found money, followed by three months of ripoff.

But by bringing in the useful old guys and playing in the weakest division in the AL, they've served notice that they think they can win the West this year. With Cabrera, Holliday and Giambi to go with Jack Cust, Kurt Suzuki, Ellis on his every other year bounce-back and (I know, I'm reaching hard here) Eric Chavez... Well, maybe they won't be the worst offense in the league anymore. That would be nice. And if nothing else, it's nice to consider an A's team without Crosby destroying them on a daily basis.

But I'm going to remain skeptical, because while the offense should be better, the pitching should be worse.

It starts with nominal ace Justin Duchsherer, who is already hurt and wildly due for a regression from last year's career year. No Blanton or Harden (or even a Chad Gaudin) means that they'll be playing Young Guy Roulette with a lot of unproven arms. And while many of those arms project well, with the usual mix of good pitchers' park and good defense behind them to smooth things along... Well, you still need to pitch on the road, too. We'll leave alone the fact that by the time you know their names, they'll be leaving town.

Which leads us to the reason why they were in a race at all last year; the bullpen. Quietly racking up some of the best numbers this side of the dead ball era were Joey Devine, Brad Ziegler, Santiago Casilas and others. Only the very hittable Huston Street, since banished to Colorado as part of the Holliday trade, failed to excel.

I'd like to imagine that the pitching will be fine, but that ignores common sense and the reality that is the rotation, especially if Duchscherer is MIA. Well, at least they are all young and (so far) cheap.

There is, however, one thing about this team that you can set in stone: if they don't get off to a hot start (historically not a strong suit for this club), they'll be thrown to the winds again, especially with Holliday looking like a rental. We're hoping to avoid that, along with the BS press conference after the fire sale where Beane promises us that everything's just peachy and as it should be in GMLand.

Prediction: 86-76, second in the West, out of the playoffs.

The UFL Are What We Thought They Were

Word on the wire last night that the UFL -- you remember the UFL, don't you? It was one of those things that insufferable idiot Mark Cuban was going on about -- is all set to start its first and last season this fall. You've got a four-team league in New York, Vegas, Orlando and San Francisco with name coaches (Jim Fassel, Dennis Green, Jim Haslett and Ted Cottrell).

They'll play on Thursday nights on Versus, also known as the channel that you don't watch the NHL on, have a six-game season, and wrap things up on Thanksgiving. They're also going to try to get noted dog-killer Michael Vick to join the festivities, just to give the train wreck watchers that will go to see this thing something juicy to heckle.

Now, say this for them... at least they've got name-brand coaches. I know that whenver I'm choosing to watch a new minor league during the busiest time in the sports calendar (seriously, you've got World Series games along with the NFL, NBA and NHL during this time, along with college football and, well, saving your money to get through Christmas), I want to know that it's being coached by someone who I'm familiar with for past spectacular failures. And with Denny Green on hand, we'll be sure to tune in for those post-game press conferences, just to see if the media (which is to say, three bloggers, two of them drunk) can get him to say his catch phrase, Gary Coleman-like.

Could they, say, have played their freaking games in the yawning six-month gap when the closest thing you get to NFL football is Mel Kiper Jr. and the same-old same-old coverage of Gosh, It's Hot In The Summer In A Training Camp? Hell no. Could they have rolled out more than four teams, and put them actually close together, so that they could tap into that good regional hate that people have for each other in the DC to Boston megalopolis? Nah, let's just do it in Orlando instead, which is Iowa City with heat and humidity. Personally, I can't wait to see the team names and logos, because with this amount of brain power shone to date, I think we're going to get something truly special. As in short bus special. (Oh, and nice timing with the economy on this. At least you won't have to fight the NHL for airtime, since that will probably be closing up shop by then anyway.)

Which leads me to the final three questions...

1) Can't you boys just admit that you're hoping to backdoor your way into an NFL expansion franchise now, rather than actually pretend that you're launching a legitimate enterprise?, and

2) Given that you're all showing about as much intellect and marketing acumen as the XFL -- hell, you're in the same exact cities! -- how, exactly, did you get to become millionaires again?

3) Will it lead to a new talking Cuban doll?

Monday, March 9, 2009

Profiles In Dumb

The Lemur chooses for its SportsNation poll this fine spring day the question of whether or not the Eagles were right to run a part-time worker who called the team "retards" for their failure to retain Brian Dawkins. Muddying the works is the fact that the worker in question is handicapped.

A few quick points on this...

1) Why does the team care about what anyone, with the possible exception of its on-field and high office personnel, put on a freaking Facebook page? It's the online equivalent of putting a post-it note on your fridge, and in terms of actual damage to the franchise, about as destructive.

Petty tyranny is never the right PR move, especially in an off-season that uncharitable observers might call, well, penny-pinching. If the Eagles really want to spend their time cybersnooping around their part-time help's Web pages, maybe they really need to let some front-office personnel go, for lack of anything better to do with their days.

2) Having said that... why should the team treat this disgruntled worker any differently than an able-bodied worker? On this, at least, the team is on the side of the angels: they are equal opportunity heartless. If you or I were to rag on our employer on a public site, there's a reasonable chance that this would have resolved in the exact same way, only without a day-long PR circus.

3) Doesn't anyone ever realize the value of anonymity? Had this guy simply given himself a pseudonym, he'd still have his gig. And this is why, frankly, I keep the blog anonymous, because you don't want that momentary lapse of taste, judgment or sense to bite you in the hindquarters.

4) Independent of whether this was a jerk move by the organization, didn't the employee in question realize that, well, he had a job that any number of people would have given up their eyeteeth for? One that, you know, requires a small measure of tact?

The voting has, not surprisingly, not gone well for the corporate behemoth on this one: 4 to 1 against on the Lemur's poll as I write this. One wonders how much this has to do with the actual move by the team, as opposed to just the opportunity for Giants, Cowboy and Redskin Fan to dogpile on the PR dummy. Once again, my NFC East friends, enjoy winning March.

5) And as a final aside, to any Eagle Fan that wants to keep liking the Lemur despite its consistent Bahston Bias (and, um, you might also want to note that you, well, *hate* most of those teams), well, there it is, front page, with a poll. They could have ignored it; they didn't.

One might even notice, well, a pattern of such things. (Quick, get Donovan McNabb on the line! Does the team's callous treatment of this guy make you more or less interested in signing a contract extension? Is it true that you are behind the team's failure to resign Dawkins, or for that matter, Tra Thomas and Correll Buckhalter? And is there any way for us to drum up Terrell Owens again?)

Awkward Fantasy Baseball Team Names

The awkwardness of certain sports expressions is one of those chicken-egg moments. Were our sports always laced with codewords for various subcultures, or have those subcultures simply tried to become more mainstream by co-opting sports phrases?

Well, far be it for me to answer these questions of metaphysical linguistics, especially when more and more of you (every day) are looking for some help in putting your league mates off their game.

Besides, let's face it... Is there really a limit that you aren't prepared to go to for league supremacy? If it puts your fellow league mates off their oats, shake your naming moneymaker, girlfriend. (As always, these should fit in Yahoo leagues.)

Needle Buddies

Designated Hitters

Albert's Belle Boys

Lefty Specialists

Platoon Pals

Utility Players

Bush League Call Up

Head First

Warning Tracks

Juiced Bats

Rafael's Palmeiro

Turning Two

Hot Corners

Loaded Bullpen

Power and Speed

Splash Hits

3 True Outcomes

Double Moves

Clutch Performers

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Nobody Defines Irrelevance Like The Buffalo Bills

Word out today on the Internets that everyone's favorite idiot, Terrell Owens, jumped fast to one of the few teams left in the league that would be willing to have him.

A one-year deal for $6.5 million at age 35 is a strong indication that The End Is Nigh, but of course, the press conference has to be all smiles, smiles. (Though, looking at that photo, not exactly the most sincere or focused...)

“I’m leaving America’s team for North America’s team,” Owens said at a news conference.

Um, really. Canada, he's yours! No tradesies!

“I must move on, and it’s another beginning for me. If I can be that extra added piece to get them to the playoffs, then that’s what I’m here for. I looked at the defensive side of ball and offensive side of the ball, and these guys have all the pieces.”

Um, Terrible? This division is owned by the Patriots, and assuming that Dreamboat Brady is capable of taking snaps this year, that's not going to change. Miami is also not awful, and the Jets have more talent. Heck, if they can get a year out of their quarterbacks that doesn't involve a couple of dozen interceptions, they should be better as well.

Theoretically, Terrible's presence should make life better for Lee Evans, who has spent most of his career dreaming of single coverage on a deep ball, and not getting it. During the honeymoon period with Terrible (and there's always a honeymoon period), Evans will have a possession wideout on the other side to run the crossing routes that he's frankly better at.

But, and here is the terrible but... the Bills have Trent Edwards at QB. As the NYTimes notes, Edwards didn't have a single 300-yard game last year. Given the weather in upstate NY and Edwards' lack of arm strength, it's hard to imagine that there will be enough balls, yards and wins to keep him and Evans happy, and Evans has more years on his contract. This will be the first time since the end of Jerry Rice in SF that he isn't the unquestioned #1 WR, and we all know how well he shares the limelight. (Do they have limelight in Buffalo?)

And just to prove the point, let's end this with the final chilling words from the jackass himself. Remember these, Bills Fan.

“I’m going to be the same person that I was the last three years with the Cowboys,” Owens said.

Don't say you weren't warned...

Big second half runs key wins for Rhode Island, Britches

Hookers, Butchers fall after holding halftime leads

In bone-crunching Philly Rollergirls action at the 23rd Street Armory on Saturday, the vising Rhode Island Riveters used a 15-point second half jam to knock off the Heavy Metal Hookers, 82-73. In the second game of a doubleheader, the Philthy Britches went on a 24-point run to break open a close game, beating the Broad Street Butchers 119-112.

The Hookers (0-2) and the Riveters, the Providence Roller Derby all-star traveling team, played a tight, back-and-forth first half. The Hookers led most of the half until the Riveters (1-1) went up 28-24 late. But the Hookers went into halftime 34-28 after ringing up 10 points on the final jam of the half.

The Hookers pushed the lead up to 12 at 42-30, the Riveters needed only six minutes to regain the lead. With penalties against the Hookers jammers limiting their scoring opportunities, the Riveters went ahead 45-42, then delivered a backbreaking 15-point jam go up 60-42 with 14:10 to play.

The Hookers looked like they had a chance for a big run of their own after the Rhode Island jammer was sent to the Sin Bin, until Riveter blocker Hot Sauce was knocked unconscious after hitting her head on the floor. Momentum lost, the Hookers couldn't get closer than six and the game appeared all but over when the Riveters expanded their lead to 82-63 with 1:08 to play.

The Hookers got a break when the Rhode Island jammer was sent off and Ivana Rock went on a furious rally, but could only score 10 on the final jam before time expired.

In the second game, the three-time defending Warrior Cup champion Philthy Britches (2-0) survived a late run by the Broad Street Butchers (1-1) to remain undefeated on the season.

The Butchers were down 25-17 in the first half when a referee injured her right ankle, causing a 30 minute stoppage in play. When the game resumed, they roared back to take a 58-48 lead into half.

The Britches clawed their way back to hold a 69-66 lead, then erupted to score 24 unanswered points. The fat lady was warming up her chops by the time the Butchers scored again to make it 93-70.

But it's roller derby and everybody makes a late run in roller derby. The Butchers took advantage of a penalty against jammer Mo Pain to cut the lead to 12 at 107-95 on the strength of Persephone's 20-point jam. Persephone made it a two-point game at 114-112 with another big jam and the Britches faced the very real possibility of experiencing their first loss in PRG history.

But the Dread Queen of the Undead ran out of magic and Mo brought the Pain (ed. note: Wocka-wocka) with five insurance points on the final jam to end the match at 119-112.

Final tally: One serious concussion, one hospitalized referee, one face-plant apiece for Robin Drugstores and Mo Pain (self-induced), one jammer (Rhode Island) knocked into the crowd, several potentially felonious bodyblows by Wreckin' Eyes, innumerable contusions and cases of road rash and one damned fine night of roller derby.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

The Five Tool Movie Review: Watchmen

Took in the new film with the Five Tool Ninja last night. Here's some quick thoughts on a good, though very mixed bag. Wait, maybe that's not the right word. Anyway...

"Watchmen" is nearly three hours long, and that's just a dang long time to sit in a theater. It's also a little too loud a little too often, and the violence is over-amped enough to be a bit wearying. Finally, it's a (very) serious story based around a fear (nuclear annihilation) that people have, for the most part, put in the back burner for the past 20 years, ever since the Soviet Union stopped being the Big Bad. So it's got some challenges that any director would have had issues with, which is part of the reason why the damned thing hasn't been made for 20 years, despite any number of efforts.

It also suffers from some highly curious decisions from "300" director Zach Snyder. (I know, I know, it's startling to think that a guy who made "THIS! IS! SPARTA!" the go-to phrase of 2006 could make some bad decisions. And I loved "300".)

The first and most unavoidable is his treatment of Dr. Manhattan, a physicist who become a Superman stand-in after a horrific accident. He also, well, spends most of the movie naked, with a visible penis.

Now, I get *why* Snyder did this; Manhattan's nakedness is reflective of the character's distance from humanity. Since that relates highly on the plot, it's the truest character costuming available. When Manhattan wears clothes in the film, it's always part of a set scene, where he's making an effort; most of the film, he doesn't. It's also an R-rated movie where we get some titty, so hey, fair's fair.

But, and here's the killer thing -- it just takes you out of the movie. Along with the tittering of the crowd, because, well, your eyes never quite get used to the fact that hey, you can see his schlong. In a sci-fi fantasy film that's doing what it can to get you into an alternate world, getting taken out of the movie is not helpful. (A similar though lesser issue creeps up from the film's use of well-known classic rock songs to set a mood, and real-world political mannequins like Richard Nixon, John McLaughlin, Pat Buchanan and Eleanor Clift.)

Next, Malin Akerman is Laurie Jupiter in this, and the principal female character in this movie, and while she's easy enough on the eyes... well, not so much on the brain. Maybe the role is badly written, and maybe I'm just expecting too much from a movie that I'm invested in, having loved the book.

Or maybe, just maybe, she's just a wooden and highly limited actress, and Snyder was too wrapped up in how the movie looks to notice this. (Who would I have rather seen? Any member from the Joss Whedon stable, with Summer Glau being perhaps the best choice, because damn, I love me some Summer Glau. But I digress. Moving on.)

Having gotten the bad news out of the way, let's get to the good. It's smart. It's effective. The effects are terrific and inventive, in ways that actually serve the story. Snyder stayed very faithful to the book. The cast is mostly made up of people who you haven't seen in a million movies, so they actually act their parts. Jackie Earle Haley is Rorschach in every possible way; there is no better human available to play that part. Billy Crudup does similar great work with Dr. Manhattan. It moves well, despite the length. Most of the stuff that you love in the book is here. Realistically, I couldn't have hoped for a better movie, and when it comes out on DVD, I'll probably pick it up, just for the extras.

But damn -- had they just given us less Blue Man and a better actress...

All in to sin

The Gray Lady today with a pro forma bad beat story, aka as Gosh, People On The Internet Sure Do Stuff. A few points on what is a decent read anyway...

> There is something visceral about the need to complain about your own poor luck, but it is essentially masturbatory.

It basically is something you are doing to try to cover your own regrets. But regrets are, to a certain extent, just someone reliving the past for the sake of avoiding the present. You might have a good reason to avoid the present, but eventually, you're going to stop. So why not now? (Answer: because I'm still hurting. Pout.)

> Bad beats in online poker create conspiracy thinking.

When you get beat runner-runner (aka, the opponent gets the perfect two cards on the turn and river to come from behind and win) in real life, it's agonizing but understandable. After all, you were there to watch the cards come out, and the conspiracy thought of This Game Is Rigged goes against the fact that you were watching with your own eyes. If the dealer is crooked, you missed it. Whereas in an online or computer game, it's just the cards the computer decided to put out there -- an intrinsically shakier proposition.

Secondly, when you are the victim of a big comeback in real life, you also get to, at least, see the surprise from your opponent. That helps to sell the fact that what happened to you was random, rather than nefarious. (Assuming, of course, that your opponent isn't a complete tool about getting bailed out by luck.)

> There's a huge difference between playing online and playing via computer. (Well, duh.)

One place that I've played at recently lets players put cash in play, along with the chips. It adds a certain recklessness to the game that I'm not all that comfortable with, but the players are so draw-happy that the game is profitable, or at least has been for me in the past. It's also, well, not as much fun for me.

When you play with just chips, it's something of a sunk cost. (I don't ever expect to make money at a table, or even break even, though I do more often than not. If you are playing with cash you absolutely need, you've got a problem, and are probably coming to the game on tilt from the start.) Cash, even if it's the same amount you were going to put into chips, never feels like an entrance fee; it's just cash, sitting right there. Take it and leave, if you're smart.

Computer games go from that feel of cash on hand to cash nowhere. Purchases are made with plastic, and the money that can be lost is twice removed. So people can (and do) go all-in with a lot more regularity than you might see at a table game, and it's just a fundamentally different game... one that, well, is going to generate a lot more bad-beat stories. If you get beat runner-runner for all of your chips, it's just a much bigger story then if you suffered a 10% loss. (The latter is, well, just not a story.)

> No one ever tells lucky win stories.

Six months ago in my house game, I was holding King-Queen suited when the flop came out King, King, King. The room more or less stopped cold to see it, and I confess, I acted it up a bit on my slow-play check. When the turn card was an ace, betting happened, and I was able to get the size of the pot up considerably. The river was a meaningless low card, and my four kings took a very large number of chips from the poor guy who had a full house, aces over kings. It's the best hand I've ever had in a live game, which is why I remember it, really.

A week ago in a tournament, I held Ace-King suited to a flop that was Queen, 10, 6, with the Queen and 10 matching my hole cards. With 19 outs (the three aces, three kings, four jacks and nine suited cards) to a good hand, and with a table image that was hyper-tight (I had been getting weak cards and was at a very loose table), I went all-in, and got called by a guy holding pocket twos. Despite being nearly a 2 to 1 underdog and after making a bad read on my hand strength, my opponent's cards held up.

Now, which story do you think I've thought about (and, sigh, told...) more? Yeah, the damn deuces. It is how we are wired; the joy from a win is more than overcome by the pain from a loss.

And in this, as in many things, poker is an apt metaphor for life...

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Ha Ha, and the Top 10 Next Teams for Terrell Owens

The Lemur goes into full lockdown mode today on the early word that the Cowboys have released Terrible Owens, and the latest validation for the Reid Era is complete. I suppose this matters if you are in a keeper fantasy league and own Owens or Tony Romo, who now will be exposed for the mid-level point on the Favre/Grossman continuum that he is... but hoo boy, Cowboy Fan, that era was fun, wasn't it?

Somehow, I'm thinking that you can get yourself that Dallas gamer for very cheap right now. Though the stampede to get Roy Williams wear will also be less than lacking. And to think, the team also let go of Brad Johnson last week. I was, personally, dreaming of a Romo injury and a return engagement of the Bradster, just so I could see the worst battery in the league in the Stars and Bars laundry. Oh well, my Ryan Leaf memories will have to suffice.

But there's so much, much more yummy pain juice to wring from this. Like, for instance, Jerry Jones' constant replaying of the Parcells seal of approval for bringing Terrible around in the first place.

"You've gotta realize than Bill bought into Terrell joining our team and don't think Terrell didn't come to this team without Bill's blessing," Cowboys owner Jerry Jones said last week. "He wanted to win and use the talents of Terrell as much as anyone in this organization ... the entire time Bill was coach they never spoke."

Good God, is this a football team or a junior high school? Sorry, I forgot I was dealing with Jerry there for a moment. (shakes head vigorously)

And since we can't let this go without a list, the Next Stops on the Terrible Tour, which will culminate in a Hall of Fame appearance in which he goes in with a special customized plaque with none of his teams listed on it...

10) Chicago. Look, this franchise has managed to convince themselves that Devin Hester and Moose Muhammad both deserve cheers and hope at the WR slot; Owens would be the best that they've had since, I don't know, Bernard Berrian? Marty Booker? Willie Gault?

Sign him, and he might already be the best WR in Bear history, folks. At least until Brian Urlacher breaks him in half.

9) New York. He can continue his magical misery tour of the NFC East. Besides, they need a #1 WR that isn't interested in shooting himself in the leg, and Rupert Murdoch would probably pony up half of the salary himself, just from the increased newsstand sales of the NY Post. I'd probably chip in as well, just to see the look on Eli Manning's face. Terrible would make the Jeremy Shockey Era look calm by comparison.

8) Cleveland. With the departure of Kellen Winslow Jr. to Tampa Bay, there are balls available, and the team needs to do something to arrest the decay in Braylon Edwards. Who could be a better mentor to him than Terrible?

7) Cincinnati. TJ Housh has taken the money and ran to Seattle, so there's an opening. I also think that having Terrible line up across from Ocho No No would be its own reality show, and if they could somehow still have Chris Henry in the fold... well, wow. Just wow.

6) San Francisco. Full circle, baby! Mike Singletary would be dropping trou on a weekly basis, and in that market, that plays. When your best WR is the remains of Isaac Bruce, don't tell me they aren't considering.

5) Washington. Come on, Daniel Snyder, do it! You are second only to Jerry Jones in your desire to dominate the NFL in the off-season, and a Terrible signing would be the perfect way to seize that Lemur front page. I'm sure he won't undermine the fragile psyche of Jason Campbell at all, or fight with your star white TE.

4) Detroit. What, you think that just because Matt Millen's gone, that the team has lost all of its tendencies to overrate the importance of a WR? Bring him in to teach Calvin Johnson how to get the most out of his talent. He can teach Dan Orlovsky how to win.

3) Oakland. Where all old, mouthy, and essentially worthless NFL players go to die. It would also give him the chance to be Jerry Rice's sloppy seconds in every meaningful way. But in case you don't get him this time, don't lose heart, Raider Fan -- he's on his way. Eventually.

2) New England. How long would it take the Bad Tooth (you may know him by his non-FTT name, aka the Sports Fella, Simmy Boy, or the most frustrating writer in Blogfrica) and every other Masshole to talk themselves into this? I have the over/under at about a day, though their hearts would still belong to Wes Welker.

Terrible would also fit in well with this locker room, seeing how they are both Pure Evil, and it would give the media what they want -- a fresh chance to write about what a wonderful teammate Terrible has become, so far, with his new and better team. Those stories never get old. He also provides a wonderful scapegoat for when Dreamboat Brady fails in the playoffs again. (Shh! No one's supposed to notice that he's lost his last two playoff games to Peyton Manning and Jake Plummer! He's supposed to be the new Joe Montana, dammit!)

1) Philadelphia. Included here just to make you think I've gone crazy and/or predicted what Utter Idiots will be saying on local sports talk radio for the next week. We'd also find out, for once and for all, whether Donovan McNabb is the biggest masochist on the planet, assuming he stays on the roster for this.

It'd also make for a fantastic marketing move, since everyone needs a new jersey, having burned all of the old ones...

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Disturbingly Sexual Fantasy Baseball Team Names

Because I am a big whore to the search engine traffic. As always, these should fit in the standard Yahoo naming space. (Today's, by the way, was inspired by an old league-mate who actually did call his team the Carpet Crawlers, mostly because he was that much of a Peter Gabriel fan. Get done with your freaky spermy self, though I think the original version was a better version. Besides, this video doesn't even have a longhaired geek getting burned at the stake, so how could can it be?)

South Side Browns

Taco Eaters

Old Town Teabaggers

Fightin' Sodomites

Carpet Crawlers

Donkey Punchers

Mustache Waxers (narrowly beating out the Mustache Riders)

Spunky Brewsters

Scat Attack

Water Sportsmen

And don't let the door hit you...

Posted by Tracer Bullet

Let me be the first to say it: Brian Dawkins can go to hell.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love me some Brian Dawkins. I’ve got his jersey hanging in my closet and I’ll soon have a second (gotta take advantage of those sales). He is probably the second greatest Eagle of all time behind only Concrete Charlie. When he’s elected to the Hall of Fame, and he damned well had better get elected, I’ll go to Canton and cheer like a fool.

But he can still go to hell.

I don’t begrudge the man for taking more money to go to Denver. Pro football is a mercenary business and if I was a 35-year-old safety with declining skills and somebody offered me that kind of coin, I’d sign so fast the pen would burst into flames.

But I don’t want to see him on the teevee with a snot bubble in his nose, blubbering about how hard it is to leave Philadelphia and how much he loves the fans and blah, blah, blah. Spare me.

He took the money to play for a rookie head coach on one of the worst defenses in the NFL. That was his choice. The Eagles offered him a contract. He didn’t take it. He took the Broncos and the cash. That’s all good; get paid, homie.

But he can’t pretend that he’s the injured party. He can’t drunk dial us at 3 a.m. whining about how much he misses us and he made a mistake and he’ll never love anyone like us and on and on. Dry your tears with that big-ass signing bonus, big boy, and lose my phone number. You walked out and I've moved on.

I can’t miss you until you leave, Dawk. So pack your shit and go.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Top 10 Most Surprising Roid Users

As the Mitchell 103 and the ever dwelling sports media (and yes, I know, guilty) has shown, baseball's Roid Story refuses to go away. Let's face it: with hundreds of users of all levels of skill and performance on the books, it's more surprising now to hear that someone is, without a doubt and beyond the pale, clean.

But given the peer pressure and momentum of the roiders, would you be surprised to find out that the use went beyond the diamond? After all, MLB is filled with ex-players and eternal kids, folks who might want to have more insight into the new experience. Heck, you could even justify it on performance levels -- it's not like it's an easy life, given all that travel and pressure. Maybe your pitching coach feels like he needed a little boost before throwing yet another round of BP. Or the manager just says screw it, I want to be bigger too.

So, without further ado, the next wave of cheaters...

10. Tim McCarver. Sadly, the Web does not have the video of Deion Sanders throwing ice water on McCarver, because the Internets do not love us all that much, so we'll just have to live with the single frame. Nothing is as bitter as a bitter old man, and no one has a better memory for slights than an old catcher. McCarver uses to get big and plot his revenge. His verbose and excruciating revenge.

9. Bud Selig. What, you think that the commish who used the Roid Era wasn't going to sample the product? Let's face it, you don't make some of the decisions that the Budster has made (the All-Star Game being the most obviously addled) without being on *something*. I'm seeing him in a bombed-out basement gym, pushing the weight and talking about Commissioner Fight Club.

8. Joe Morgan. Big and Red, indeed. The Hall of Fame second baseman, stat hater and all-around lunkhead with a mic probably went with the Lemur flow on this one (see the higher entries on the list). At least, until he heard that the A's used. Then, he swore off them...

7. Rob Dibble. Take a look at his career -- strong peaks, injury history, temper tantrums -- and tell me he's not a roider. Next, take a look at his broadcasting "work" (go ahead, I dare you), and tell me that he's changed anything in his life since he was between the lines. He probably backs his postman off the plate.

6. Don Zimmer. Finally, the 2003 brawl is explained! Oh my goodness, indeed. But when you already have a plate in your head, a needle in the rear just seems like balance.

5. John Kruk. You'd think that a fat tub of goo who is only 50% more uncle than aunt (think about it... and then, for the love of Jebus, stop thinking about it) would refrain from the juice? No chance. When your diet consists entirely of beer, pizza, and pizza-flavored beer, you need a complex blend of chemicals just to remain upright. The fact that the man fits on your television, and isn't known simply as Krukkie the Hutt, is all the proof you need. That robe isn't getting any smaller, folks.

4. Scott Boras. Darth Agent can not give any advantage to any other agent. Even more frightening is the fact that the roids he is on work purely on his mind. It goes something like this.

3. Joe Buck. Shocking? Yes, I know -- shocking! You can't believe it! But without steroids, Joe Buck would not be able to summon the wild enthusiasm and excitement that he brings to every single one of his telecasts. (Because Joe Buck is, in fact, a flesh-eating zombie. Which, of course, is less surprising than him taking steroids.)

2. Nate Silver. Is it possible to be the world's biggest baseball stat nerd, then pivot on a dime and become the world's biggest political polling nerd? I'm calling shenanigans. He's on the brain roids, people, and the delusions of grandeur (Oscar predictions?) are becoming palpable. Step away from the throbbing brain, people. I've seen a lot of movies, and those never end well.

1. Bill Simmons. You think a non-juiced writer can kick out 10,000 words on Manny Ramirez? No. Or, at least, I hope to hell not. Besides, I've listened to that podcast (the things I do for you people), and you can definitely hear the back acne, impotence and paranoia. It's all there, people.

And why else would a writer go to the steroid well so often? Wait, crap, forget I said that. I SAID, FORGET I SAID THAT!

Monday, March 2, 2009

One very small point about the Redskins

Earlier this week, they signed Albert Haynes- worth, the biggest name on the free agent market, to a massive deal that is making a certain kind of Eagle Fan rend their flesh in abject frustration, certain that this was the very move that they needed to do to make their team more complete.

This same variety of fan would, if pressed to it, confess to a certain jealousy of Redskin Fan, since they (at least) have an owner that's willing to DO SOMETHING and spend the money that they have available under the cap. Unlike our bean counters, who just want to sit back and dive, Scrooge McDuck-like, into their unspent cap millions and fail in the stretch for the lack of a player of Haynesworth's caliber. (Never minding, of course, his injury history, the likelihood that he's still going to be very good following a big signing, and his personal history with Andre Gurode, who he now gets to see twice a year. Sure hope Andre doesn't, you know, dive at his knees from behind at the end of a play. That would be unfortunate.)

In other, completely unrelated news -- can't see why I'd mention it at all, really -- the Redskins released Jason Taylor today, after one uneventful season in Skinland.

Really, honestly... is there anyone with half a functioning brain that actually envies Redskin Fan during the Snyder Era?

Safety Dance

For most of the last three decades, Eagle Fan has had a love affair with safeties. The Dick Vermeil Era had Randy Logan, who played in 159 consecutive games, went to a couple of Pro Bowls, and more or less managed the unique Philadelphia feat of never really getting blamed for much, since that could always be put on the corner. He also had tolerable hands for a d-back (23 career picks), was a sure tackler, and could still hurt a guy or two. And with Herm Edwards, who managed to rarely get beat because he was willing to let a guy catch 15 balls for 150 yards on short outs in front of him every game on the roster, we always had a better place to point fingers.

The Ryan Era cemented the idea that safety was going to be our favorite defensive position, as Wes Hopkins and Andre Waters were basically a heel tag-team come to life.

A brief word on the original Executioner, Wes Hopkins. If you didn't see him as a young player, before his serious injury issues, you missed a lot. Pre-Dawk, he was simply the best I ever saw in the laundry at that position. Imagine the guy you knew who killed people; now, imagine him as the fastest player on the field. Wes's wheels were so good, they used him to return punts, thought about him at corner, and tried to figure out ways to get the ball in his hands. The only problem was that he just seemed more interested in punishing the coverage team then making big yards. For those transition years before Buddy, he was the only reason to watch the team. If you only knew him for the Ryan years, you only knew about 70% of what he was: think pre-death Sean Taylor with a functioning brain. (Oh, and especially large kudos to Wes for managing to seat his wife next to his mistress so that they, too, could throw down during the game, which made the beat writers at the Daily News sick with happiness, back in the day. Moving on.)

Andre Waters (and no, no one in the area ever called him Dirty, such is the magic of the laundry) was death to knees and ankles and eventually himself, as he managed to be a feared hitter despite being more or less of a smurf. In games like the fabled "House of Pain" MNF match against the run and shoot and get concussed Oilers, they were a video game come to life.

And then, just when I was becoming convinced that we'd never see the likes of those two again, the team came up with Brian Dawkins... a man who combined exceptional coverage ability with mind-boggling hits. He was also, really, the first defensive leader that I've ever seen that was the true leader of the unit, which, given the way that the league has changed, is probably something to expect in the future.

Now, there are significantly bigger Brian Dawkins fans out there, even among the people who write on this blog. I'm too old to just adore a guy anymore, no matter how cartoonishly focused and freakishly effective he might be. To me, Dawk is simply the mirror opposite of Donovan McNabb, in that he's the best to ever play the game at his position and in this laundry, but still human, and prone to criticism/mistakes.

And unlike QB, safety is a position where age comes up fast. In recent years, Dawk seemed to pick his spots more, to lead with the helmet as he tried to will his team to victory by any means possible, and to engage in bizarre Wolverine moments on plays where it didn't seem to matter. This was on the field; off of it, he spoke in tongues, performed spasmodic dance routines, screamed at teammates and generally behaved as if his life depended on winning the game. Is there any wonder we all loved him? He was, mentally, what every fan wants every player to be.

The famous flying leap he threw at Plexico Burress, shown above, was at the end of third-down completion for a first, didn't actually make much contact with Plax, and at the time, just seemed silly. Now, of course, it might be the defining image of his tenure.

The rest of the Eagle writing blogosphere is deeply bent over the idea that Dawk isn't going to retire in harness, but to me, it's almost better. I don't want my memories of the man to be clouded with his last days, where he's getting smoked in coverage, receiving media mouth jobs on plays where he gets to the pile late, and getting lauded for his pre-game hype session like that's an in-game contribution. Leave that, please, to Ray Lewis. Our guy has more class than that.

Rather, instead, see him for what he is today: an aging player in a position where age is exposed with cruelty. The Eagles are better off giving time to the Quentins (Demps and Mikell) at this point, and the big money to someone else, given the large number of holes that are on the roster. If you believe in the young linebackers, you're better off locking those guys, rather then paying off the final days of the Dawk Appreciation Tour.

And I write all that with the full knowledge that lightning is going to strike me dead any minute now, because Dawk might be the most beloved defensive player since Jerome Brown. (We like our heroes to be infallible in this town, and you don't get any more mistake-free then dead.)

Meanwhile, Dawk's new team is in severe upheaval, given that Jay Cutler is throwing a snitfit over being shopped in Cassel-Gate, and Brandon Marshall is getting arrested (again). Dawk's going to wind up playing his final days for a mediocre team in a terrible division, for a coach that's younger than he is, and probably watching Eagles games on satellite with a bored Correll Buckhalter. I suspect he's already regretting the decision. Being the new John Lynch is just kinda sad.

Finally, I'd like to say something about the original point of the piece: Eagle Fan has come to expect some things from their safeties. First, that they will last longer than the usual in-and-out member of the secondary. Second, that they will hit like a man fighting for his life. Third, that they will play with emotion. And fourth, that if they fail in coverage, it's probably the corner, linebacker, or line's fault for not knowing the assignment and/or not getting to the QB in time.

It will be highly interesting to see if the same rules apply to the next wave.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

End of the line

As NFL Free Agency moves into the hyper-mode stage that makes some kinds of fans damn near nauseous with uncertainty (you know who you are, Tracer Bullet), there's been high amounts of turnover in the Eagles defensive secondary. Clearly, it's the end of an era, and it's something that requires comment. I speak, of course, about Sean Considine's decision to sign with Jacksonville.

Who of us could ever forget when Considine first made his presence felt in the lineup? With his combination of not quite enough size and not quite enough speed, he was, well, white. Frequent contributions on special teams, and the fact that he didn't play corner while getting roasted against the Patriots in the Super Bowl, made us all realize that he wasn't, in fact, Matt Ware. That was important.

In 2005, he was drafted in the fourth round, out of Iowa. In 2007, he was a starter as the Eagles decided that Michael Lewis was a better author than football player. After suffering an injury, he got Wally Pipped by Quentin Mikell, much to the relief of Eagle Fans who liked him well enough on special teams, but weren't too thrilled to see opposing team's seam routes and tight ends rack up the yards.

And now, he goes to just another AFC team, which is nice, in that we'll probably never have to see him in the wrong laundry, getting his revenge. But personally, I'm going to be ordering his 37 number in teal (it's slimming!) and wearing it to the Linc next year, just to show the current regime how bent I am that they wouldn't sign the same old talent when they are so far under the cap. You'll also be hearing me on sports talk tadio, sounding as if I've lost a family member. It's only right.

(And seriously... Godspeed, Dawk. See you in Canton.)

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

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