Apropos of nothing, deal with the joy of my random iPod shuffling. This piece gives me 9/11 chills every time I hear it now, and the fact that this was a Top 40 hit when it came out tells you how adventurous those charts used to be, and never will be again...
So I had the dubious pleasure of catching a little WFAN (that's the Mets sports talk radio) while doing errands on Saturday afternoon, and there's really something marvelous about the transparency of the formula.
You see, on Friday night, the Mets lost with Johan Santana on the mound against Phillies farmhand J.A. Happ in a tight game... and in the overreaction world that is sports talk radio, it's not one of 162 games, or even a rivalry game in mid-season... it's a breathtaking opportunity lost, a rebirth of Phillies confidence, a clear indictment of the in-game skills of Jerry Manuel (who pulled Santana after a low pitch count for Duaner Sanchez, who lost it on a couple of two-out hits).
Now, was the decision to pull Santana, who hadn't given up an extra-base hit and was cruising for almost the entire game, correct? Pretty damned doubtful, but defensible if Santana had told him he was done, or if he's concerned about burning out his ace before the stretch drive, since he's somehow not getting just how unspeakably important last night's game was. That was the kind of win that could just cause a big streak...
Or, at least, might have, had the Mets not then turned around and won the last two games of the series (9-4 on Saturday, and 4-2 in 12 innings with a rain delay today).
So, what's more likely here... that the NL East is just a collection of 85 to 90 win caliber teams, and as long as the teams stay within hailing distance of each other (the Phils now lead the Marlins by 2.5, and the Mets by 3.5), you can more or less safely ignore most of what happens in this pennant race for the next month or two... and given that none of those teams really sets up to have a post-season rotation that can match up to what Chicago (or the presumably stumbling Diamondbacks) can throw out there, maybe not even then.
Meanwhile in the other end of MLB+, the Yankees scraped back to a split in their 4-game series with the Red Sox... while the Rays swept the Royals for their seventh straight win in a row, meaning that they've gained two games on both teams during the showdown. So the Rays now have a 5 and 9 game lead over Coke and Pepsi, and if they can put together a quick 2-gam series win (Kazmir vs. Pettite, Jackson vs. Ponson), maybe they can put the Yankees in a double-figure hole in the East. The Sawx get a surprisingly competent Twins team that's even played near .500 on the road, and when you've got a team that's counting on big hits from JD Drew, you've got a team that's capable of blowing a series at home... especially when you weren't able to put the stake in the heart of your rival after taking the first two games in a four game set.
What you can, of course, rely on is that... no matter what the teams do on the field, any movement in the A-Rod Divorce will overwhelm anything else you hear about this, at least until Hank Steinbrenner bursts a blood vessel. Which is, well, increasingly more likely as the Rays just continue to put distance between them and the rest of the division...
H/t to With Leather -- the news is that yes, SLAMBALL IS COMING BACK. Pat Croce's going to fulfill his lifelong destiny to be the commish. The fact that no one's died while playing this game is, to my eyes, something of an upset.
The photo on the right (h/t Deadspin and the San-Diego Union Leader) isn't recent. It's from 2005. It's also not terribly new or novel to crack on New England Fan, much in the same way that it's not new or novel to crack on Tom Cruise, Britney Spears or neo-Nazis. (For the record, this blog isn't afraid to note its opposition to all three, and our pride in having been against all three since "Rain Man.") And yet, still, this needs to be said.
Any sports fan of a certain age has, I am sure, gotten the occasional burst of static as to how they are just great big nerds for being so into stuff that is clearly meaningless. (This is multiplied if you play fantasy sports.) As my three-sport fantasy addiction, my pilgrimages to live games as quasi-vacations, and this blog shows, I'm more addicted than most. And yet...
I've never painted myself. Or gotten anything pierced or tattooed. Or paid a scalper. I haven't called a talk radio show for over 15 years, or listened to one in 2. I don't go on bulletin boards to defend my team. I don't memorize statistics. Since moving to the East Coast in June of 2006, I've gone to nearly as many live theater or music performances as I have to games. I don't speak in the third person when discussing my team, unless I'm trying to make fun of people who do.
Also, I think if you are doing most of the above, there is a strong possibility that you are a freaking moron. But what the hell, I spend my free time blogging about sports for pennies on the hour, so who am I to talk?
At some very basic level, sports is a vice. It's time you could be spending with your family, working, exercising, doing charitable works or even just getting enough sleep. It's money that you could be putting aside for more meaningful pursuits, or investments that will have a greater return on investment than chewing gum. I'm an Eagles, A's and Sixers fan; I may spend the rest of my life waiting for a championship that will never come.
Will Leitch at Deadspin likes to talk about how sports fans are smarter, on average, than expected -- and that it's just that freaks on the right get the camera time. I'd like to believe that; there are enough smart sports blogs and commenters. But at some point, there's got to be some face time for those of us that aren't yahoos and don't fall for braying jackass fake controversy shows, right?
(Crickets. Sweat on upper lip. More crickets.)
And we'll be back with which team has the sluttier cheerleaders and/or wives, complete with videos and images, so come on back, y'all!
According to various accounts, over 30,000 people decided to spend the anniversary of our nation's independence by... watching freaks eat hot dogs.
The World Wide Lemur decided to devote a significant portion of its news hole to this. They also decided to compare the six-year reign of the Japanese freak to the Chicago Bulls teams of Michael Jordan.
The President has told us that the terrorists hate us for our freedoms. I'm starting to wonder if they've got a point.
