Showing posts with label timewaste. Show all posts
Showing posts with label timewaste. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

205 Drop: Top 10 songs for your funeral

Today's link is inspired by a story out of Britain, where ACDC is making more appearances at people's last gigs, and also by past entrance music discussions. My list won't match yours, of course (if nothing else, it's lacking "Enter Sandman", which I suspect will be played at way too many Yankee Fan funerals, or "Sweet Caroline" for the Sawx faithful), but it's well worth your click. I don't ask for much.

Oh, who am I kidding? You come to see me become fertilizer, you're sitting through this as an entire playlist, along with some overbearing prerecorded audio track explaining my choices. Also, a reading from my relentlessly unpopular novels. And why yes, the Upcoming Birthday *does* keep creeping into my conscious thought. Thanks for noticing.

Now, go rock this joint.

Monday, April 20, 2009

A quick question to my East Coast homies

Does it ever not suck to live here, weather wise?

I realize that I've become a complete candy-ass from six years in the oh so comfy womb that is Northern California, but I'm fairly sure that by the time the calendar gets to April 20, you should have had more than five days in the whole freaking year where the weather didn't want to make you burn your Least Coast House to the ground and go live under some California bridge.

We now return you to your usual, mostly sports-related, timewaste.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Today's Uplifing Quote

Then when this kindly world all round the man has been blackened out like a lie; when friends fade into ghosts, and the foundations of the world fail; then when the man, believing in nothing and in no man, is alone in his own nightmare, then the great individualistic motto shall be written over him in avenging irony. The stars will be only dots in the blackness of his own brain; his mother's face will be only a sketch from his own insane pencil on the walls of his cell. But over his cell shall be written, with dreadful truth, "He believes in himself." - G.K. Chesterton
Add whatever political or religious overtones ya like. I just liked the quote.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Don't Do Drugs, Or Listen To Music Made On Drugs



Two minutes of why taking heroic amounts of acid isn't a good idea, from your old pal Syd Barrett. (Who's Syd Barrett? Why, he's the original frontman of Pink Floyd. Who's Pink Floyd? Ahh, shaddup, ya lousy punks.)

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

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...

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Blogrolling Is Very, Very Sorry

If you've noticed the blog losing a bit of steam in the last 1-2 weeks, you're not mistaken; I've been fighting a persistent bug and prepping for way too many fantasy baseball league drafts, and also covering for the frequent absence of a coworker who has also been laid low.

Once we get past Saturday, we should be back up to our normal levels of snark. In the meantime, eat out on the lowest energy Blogrolling ever, which isn't to demean the quality of the links.

Hey, we won our first round blog name contest, but appear to have lost the second. If I had only known that the second round had started, kids. IF ONLY.

MLJ has the story on how the Tigers make Baby Jebus cry. Isn't Detroit already, you know, hell?

Weapons grade timewaste. Uses sound, and if you are at work, you better have headphones.

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.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

We Will Now Return To Our Regularly Scheduled Wanking

Did you have NBA Trade Deadline Fever? I know I did, having spent most of the last 72 hours in a cocaine-fueled tizzy while digging into the contract details of every player in the Association, then moving them all around in ways that only my fantastic mind could comprehend. After that work was done, I then went on to a lot of NBA blogs and posted my latest research, just to see how much groundswell I could get. How else could you explain rumors like:

> Shaquille O'Neal to the Cavs, because he worked so well for the Suns in their stretch drive last year, and the Cavs are completely convinced that they need to blow up the team, considering how gosh-darn awful they've looked as the best team in the East this year

> Vince Carter to Toronto, just to teach him a valuable lesson about being a piece of crap

> Kirk Hinrich to a team that's convinced that oft-injured and unathletic point guards always age well (surprisingly, Hinrich is still a Bull)

> Stephon Marbury to the Celtics, because the Celtics always get a guy for pennies on the dollar, and the Knicks want nothing more than to put him in the same division and on a playoff team, for all that he's done for them

> Raptors sending Chris Bosh to the Bulls, because you want to move a guy to a franchise that, if they offered their entire team for him, still doesn't have enough

> My left nut for my right one, just to give both a fresh start

What actually happened? Squadouche, as Norm Chad might say, and I'm probably impugning the good name of nothing by associating it with Larry Hughes and Rafer Alston (but probably not Brad Miller). By the end of the afternoon, the Lemur had already pivoted to the Tiger Comeback, having sensed that the biggest annual non-story, behind only Dog Show Coverage and the ESPYs for sheer Public Naked Pud Pulling, had faded.

Why do the Association's fans and writers fall for this every year? Maybe it's just that it's February and we're all out of other things to write about. Maybe it's because the writers are all hopeless nerds who would rather play Fake GM than Real Fan.

Or maybe -- and this is the stunning thing, the unthinkable thing, the dare not speak its name thing -- the Association's front offices are actually, you know, a little bit smart about their jobs.

Trades in the NBA, unless they are absolute theft (see Gasol to the Lakers and Garnett to the Celtics), are rarely a great way to improve your lineup. That's because trades are almost always about the salary cap, rather than the on-court product, and because it takes a long time -- years, really -- for players to truly adapt their games to each other and be successful, especially on the defensive end. Most mid-season trades are just shuffling chairs on the Titanic; by the time you've played 50 games, barring injury, you are what you are. Unlike baseball, a bubble team does not go to the Finals with the right move; unlike football, trades actually exist.

Anyway, now that that's over, it's time to... watch the games? Hell no. Let's write some more about the 2010 free agent class!

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Rather than watch the Olympics...


Go check out the goodness at Medium Large. It's got as much relevance to sports, and you won't feel as corrupted.

Monday, July 14, 2008

The Bullshit Factory

Welcome to the Four Day Dead Zone, the annual time in the sports year when smarter people than me just close up shop and move on. The dumber among us complain about the All Star Game (especially the annual abomination that is the Chris Berman Home Run Derby Stab Out Your Ears And Make Your Contemplate Funding An Assassination), crank out What It All Means Pieces about the first half of the regular season in MLB, chew over any second tier free agent signing in the NBA, and read the tea leaves of NFL summer camps.

And yet, for the past several years, something has always lurched into huge prominence at this time, whether it be a self-immolation (the Michael Vick Affair), a trade drive (Kobe Bryant being a freaking loon), an MLB dust-up (there's Hall of Fame voting sometime soon, isn't there?), or that old favorite, violent crime (some athlete is due to be relieved of their valuables at gunpoint).

There will also be the usual second-tier sports trying to clamor for attention. This year, that'll be the Olympics, the presidential election, whatever the Lemur invents to fill the void -- remember Who's Now? I do, mostly at night, when the shakes come.

In short, there *is* no dead time in sports now, because the eco-system is self-propelling, like any bullshit factory. Some athlete with a taste for attention (Brett Favre is on lines 1 through 8) will push for the pub. Another will do something dubious, or have a court appearance. There are more than enough people with past prominence that a notable death will create pundit gruel. Sabermetric stuff will take the fore and tell us something -- anything -- that we didn't know. The presence of camera phones will generate cheap heat and a story (and, to be candid, I still think it's meaningful that Matt Leinart was drinking with the underaged -- and if you disagree with that, feel free to draft him too early in those upcoming roto leagues, as he will be there).

There is no off-season anymore, and that goes for everything. I work in online advertising, and even though the creative community in most advertising circles packs it in and tries to take time off in the summer, there's still loads to do -- prep work for back to school and winter seasonal creatives, sudden fire drills to help an advertiser spend a budget, businesses that move to re-do failing art or a re-work for a new brand, etc., etc. It's even more telling in a bad economy, as people try to look busy at all costs (and frankly, I suspect the economy is a lot worse than the media is telling you, if only because that industry is still flush, thanks to the infusion of political dollars, oil company PR, and Olympics hype).

There's also this... people blog for money. (Not me, of course, or I'd have loads more titty images.) The desire to make a buck doesn't go away when the weather gets warm; hell, it probably increases, especially when new blood, in the form of college grads and high school folks with time on their hands, hits the market. The sports blogosphere is just a low-rent section of the same Bullshit Factory that the Lemur is. We are just as guilty as inventing things for your time and interest as anyone else. (Speaking of which... where's my pointy hat for winning Iron Ref? I demand a pointy hat.)

So welcome, my friends, to the Dead Zone. I promise it'll be lively. And then, the NFL will come again to save us all...

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Niko Bellic is killing my blog

Hard times in Blogland, my children. Between the continuing scariness that is being a marketing guy in a bad economy, combined with the usual dearth of summer blogging topics, there's also the following little grenade into my working life... the Shooter Wife and Mom combined to get me a PS3 and GTA IV. It took a while to track down a store that had the 80 gig new machine that is also backwards compatible with my old PS2 and PS1 games, but now that it's in the house, it's a silent but deadly destroyer of any free time. I am not as complete in my GTA addiction as I used to be (I've been playing these games since Top-Down World, aka the first GTA for PS1), but it's still a siren call.

How is it? Unspeakably beautiful. The designers have loads more memory and space to play on the expanded PS memory, and they've used it to ratchet up the rendering like nobody's business. They're still in the bad Uncanny Valley of polygonal human faces, though there's a certain simian quality to many of the gangster's faces that suits them as characters. But I'm still kind of amazed that there's sexual content in these games, because it's not like they can render a female form that you'd actually want to be near in real life.

Oh, and as part of the routine drive you crazy portion of the game, they've changed the controls and the combat stuff, which is always the sure-fire way to multiply my frustration with it. So I'm in that magical stage where I'm not sure if my aging reflexes are going to allow me to get anywhere in this thing, and I have to do the same missions over and over again until I can finally get the firing fingers right. Gahhh.

Anyway, we thank you for your indulgence during the lighter posting schedule, and promise to try to pick it up as events warrant. Failing that, or we'll just throw more vidoes up, and do what everyone else in the space does when they're trying to unlock the other islands...

Sunday, June 29, 2008

The Best Night Of My Month

Six months ago, I started a monthly poker night in my Man Space Basement, partly to make more friends in the area, and mostly just to play some low-stakes poker. Back in my penniless musician days, we used to play for nickels, dimes and quarters, with the biggest pots going around $10 to $15. We'd play all night for less than $20, with the kind of back-and-forth repartee that had everything to do with wasting time together, and little if anything to do with actual poker. So it was basically a nostalgia thing for me, and had next to nothing to do with the big national mania for hold'em.

The game now has taken on an every four weeks quality to it, with a slow core of local regulars starting to develop, buttressed by the occasional out-of-towner from Philly or New York. (I live about halfway between the two, with Philly roots and family, and a New York desk job.) The stakes have grown, not to the point where anyone is really getting hurt (we tend to have maximum buy-ins under the idea that no one is going to leave my home very mad), but enough where a sizable payday could mean you can fill your gas tank. And while I won't bore you to tears with the details of any specific game (though getting pocket kings the other night, and having two more show up on the flop, really was one of the highlights of my year)... well, I will say this.

If you aren't in a game, get in. And if you don't have a game, start one.

There's a reason why in-person cards is even better than online or against a machine, and that's simple -- in-person cards involves the spectacular disapora of trash talk, work stories, women stories, drunk stories... just stories, really. Running gags that teeter between exceptional irritation and utter hilarity. The actual attempts to play poker, balanced off your growing book of every player, mitigated against the fact that most of us are drinking, which doesn't do much for your book or your analysis skills. (How I know that I've been more lucky than good so far... the fact that drink seems to help. Woo hoo! Two great vices that go great together!) The knowledge that, in a low-limit game with guys that are more interested in having a good time than amassing career winnings and going on to the Pro Tour, that what you might see on television or read in a how-to book has nearly no use in what's going on here.

It's fantastic. It's the best day of my month. It's a vice that's even shared by the guy that might be our next President. (Yes, Obama plays, at least according to the New Yorker. They say he likes to see a lot of flops. I tell you, other than the intellect and the people and speaking skills and skin color, I'm so like this guy. In that I like poker and basketball, and breathe oxygen.)

And it's a great way to have, more or less, the same experience that your uncles and great-uncles and men for generations before you have known... that wasting time, with cards and with your friends, is one of the best ways to waste time that there is. (By the way, if you are local, we usually have a space or two open. Email me at dmt shooter at gmail dot com for an invite.)

Now, what are the blinds again?

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

In defense of boredom and intentional failure

I used to take the Shooter Eldest to fifteen to twenty baseball games a year, when she was aged 2 to 4. People always used to congratulate me on how lucky it was that my kid was a baseball fan, or ask how I managed to cultivate a taste for such a slow game in a little girl... and then I'd have to tell them that, no, it wasn't luck or cultivation, because the Shooter Eldest isn't really that much of a fan. She just likes to go places with me.

"But how do you keep her from being bored?"

Well, we'd go to the children's play area, bring coloring books, buy junk food... hey, um, actually? Sometimes, she gets bored. Life is like that. It's not even child abuse.

The other night, I was keeping a spare eye on the Tigers-Indians game while dealing with laundry, where Cleveland jumped all over the minor-league board Dontrelle Willis (he's Barry Zito without, um, control or stuff). With the score 8-0 in the third and the mother of all rain storms bearing down on Motown, Indians' pitcher Cliff Lee just started throwing belt-high strikes to try to get the game to official status quickly. He gave up a couple of runs, but moved the game along fast.

The Tribe hitters then came up, and while they were also hurrying things along, they were still swinging the bat to hit the ball, and when reaching base, not getting picked off first intentionally. From outside the game, it seemed like the wrong play, but from the point of view of a player whose outs could be used against you in a court of arbitration? Maybe not. (Footnote: the game was stopped in the fifth, but eventually resumed, with a Tribe win.)

Having the ability to be OK with an unpleasant situation (say, heat, boredom, rain, or making outs intentionally), or more importantly, the ability to see beyond your immediate physical or emotional needs is, I think, damned useful. It allows you to develop the concentration to complete a goal. I was bored plenty when I was a kid; it allowed me to develop, moment by agonizing moment, the tiny amount of patience that I have today. More importantly, it let me develop an imagination and intellectual curiosity to see connections where others don't, to find things to think about when there is nothing else to do, and to blog every day and ride trains for 17 hours a week without going into a killing spree. (So far. I'm not making any promises for if and when train delays start pushing this to 20 hours a week and beyond. New Jersey Transit and PATH, you are officially On Notice.)

Entertainment, especially when it's passive and suits you, is brain candy; fun, a rush, easy to sell and, at the end of the day, essentially composed of air and nothingness, with no lasting import or impact. (You can toss in, of course, the video clips you find here, or even this little piece of timewaste if it's not sparking any thoughts on your part.) But you shouldn't just live on candy, just as you should be able to watch something that takes some time without being overwhelmed by feelings of boredom.

Because, well, the people in my life who feel compelled to tell me how bored they are? They are, by and large, extraordinarily boring people. It takes two.

Monday, May 26, 2008

Epic Drop: Top 20 Things That I'd Trade For The Syracuse Men's Lacrosse Tiitle

Your link is here, and just to ensure that I've got your full attention, please note that the entry does include Jerry Jones with a tranny hooker, and Jeri "7 of 9" Ryan in a catsuit.

Yes, it's one of Those Posts, really... and yes, Lax Honk, I do know a (very little) about the game, having had to cover it as a sportswriter back in the day. Nearly 50,000 people came to the game today, ESPN telecasted it, and I Still Don't Give A Flip. Moving on...

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Hair'um Scare'um

Yay! The Kansas City Chiefs have managed to make their original case, Scary Hippie Or Rasta Hair Should Be Stopped, to the greater NFL. By doing so, an organization that has been one of the greater wastes of time in recent NFL history has managed to waste everyone else's time, too. I like it when things like that work out.

Now, you may ask yourself, Self, why care about the possible hair restrictions on a bunch of violent millionaires who act as trained puppets for our amusement? It's not as if there's a Constitutional right to looking like Sideshow Bob on a football field.

Well, it's just this. Petty incursions on personal freedoms should not be tolerated, even if they make older demographics more comfortable. And if you're offended by the idea that your team's running back or wideout might get pulled down by the locks, preventing a big gain... well, one suspects that your team should have more of a margin for error. And you should stop identifying so much with The Man.

Monday, March 31, 2008

Because I Know You Come Here For The Bowling Videos



You know what stops this kind of thing? Putting up bumpers on the lanes. Make it a law, Congress!

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

The NCAA Tournament Has Not Begun

This can't be said enough: the play-in game is utterly, completely, breathtakingly pointless. Right up there with, say, a fifth NFL exhibition game, Mel Kiper Jr. Bill Walton and the Baltimore Orioles.

You can't pick it in a pool. You have to live in North Las Vegas to want to seriously wager on it. The winner doesn't matter, since no 16 seed has ever beaten a 1 seed, or, most likely, ever will. These teams would be better off in the NIT, where they might finagle a home game. It doesn't serve any useful purpose, other than to try to get the NCAA an extra day or two of coverage. It shouldn't be covered, televised, or tolerated. Period.

Oh, and when one of the teams has, as its name, an imperative command to begin rutting? Well then, it's just obvious to everyone, isn't it?

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Countdown to the Second Worst Day of the Year in Sports



(And no, the video has little to do with this, but it's still kind of amazing... if only for the feat of training to get a dog to do that, and the fact that a woman is applauded for dancing like that, and spreading her legs for, a dog. In public.)

That would be Monday, where your usual midwinter lull of regular season basketball and hockey will be broken up by the Pro Bowl recap... and the opening of the Westminster Dog Show.

Now, I've got nothing against dogs. Except for my first year of college, I haven't lived without one in my house for the last 25 years. I still can't look at a keeshond, which was the breed of my longest living dog, without going into hard nostalgia. I've brought home strays. I speak Dog. I just found this video on YouTube, and damn. Those are my boys!



I suppose that the Dog Show is still better than NASCAR or televised poker for pure viewing pleasure, if only for the sake of hey, dogs. But this is, um... Not Sports with the highest possible Notness. And anyone that goes to compete in this thing is only slightly higher on the evolutionary scale than a Furry, and probably needs to be force-viewed "Best In Show", Clockwork Orange-style, until they get that their life has been sadly wasted. (And this comes from a guy that's written over 700 blog posts about sports in the last year...)

Friday, February 8, 2008

MLB: All In Or Fold

The other day, I caught a radio interview with Harry Kalas, the voice of the Phillies for my entire life. You've probably heard Harry at some point thanks to his work on NFL Films, those NFL Network TV ads (he's the voice at the end), even some movies. He's got the kind of voice that you could listen to all day, and along with Richie Ashburn and Bill King, he will be the defining sports broadcaster voice of my life. If you can't be at the game, baseball is best on the radio, with a voice that's like a friend taking you through things; it makes everything slow down in a way that's just pleasant.

Anyway, hearing Kalas, and some of his great play by play calls over the years (Harry isn't over the top, but when he gets excited, you know it), along with the unseasonably warm weather this week.... well, hell. Am I really going to give MLB more of my time?

Every few years, it seems, my interest in the game comes to a low ebb. Either my team (the A's since the late '90s, the Phillies from the late '70s to the mid '90s) has no shot, or the MLB+ness of the game just grinds me down. There has to be more to being a baseball fan than habit or a good announcer, right?

I don't have this ambivalence with football or basketball, for the clear and simple purpose that when your favorite football or basketball team has a good player, you don't have to spend your time waiting for him to be sold to some other team. Or, I imagine, feeling the trace amount of guilt at rooting for the fruits of some other team's labor, that you just happened to be able to root for because your team has more money.

(This is a whole 'nother post, but I'm convinced that part of the reason that fans of MLB+ teams are so unpleasant to deal with for the rest of us is that because they know, on some level, that they are thieves by association. Witness how the Yankee fans love Jeter and tolerate A-Rod, despite the fact that the latter is a better player most of the time. You grew Jeter, so you love him like a son. A-Rod is a Hessian mercenary, nothing more, and you will cast him aside as soon as he would you. Good times!)

There's also this... fantasy sports are getting a bit tired. You play with the same people and rules long enough -- and to be fair, it's not all of the same people, it's just the ones that never talk trash or add much to it. If I stay in these leagues long enough, I'm going to become one of the latter. It's like being in a poker game that never ends.

So here's the deal. I could, of course , stop watching the games, the way I did in the mid-90s when the strike happened, the Phillies stopped trying, I didn't follow the A's yet and the world was owned, lock, stock and barrel, by the Yankees and Braves. (A grand era to skip, by the way.) I'm feeling like a Royals or Pirates fan here -- I've got a crap hand, no chips, and the other side not only has more bankroll, it's making its own cards.

Fold. Leave. With speed.

Problem with that is that one suspects this blog would get pretty sparse pretty quickly, and it just means you've got nothing to watch for months on end. It makes the NFL way too important, really.

So Door Number Two... is to go all in, for a game of your own making.

Here's what I want -- a new fantasy game that's not all soulless and sparkless online randomness. A live draft, or maybe even an auction, where nearly all of the owners are in the same room together, to give each other maximum trash for their picks. Heck, maybe even an auction, seeing how I've never done one of those before, and will probably suck at it. Have some keepers from year to year, so that people don't make silly trades or moves for the moment. mild keeper action, maybe even drafting minor league players for your farm system, even though that's the ultimate in Dork. Buy some insulting trophy and/or wrestling-style championship belt for the winner to wear. In any event, Do Something Different.

And if I can't get that, sit out a year. See what MLB looks like when I'm not smoking the fantasy crack pipe. Hell, maybe I'll write another book.

So if you're local to anywhere in the Philadelphia to New York region, or want to go Huge Dork and fly in for a draft and prevent the world from suffering through another of my books, ping me at dmt shooter at gmail dot com.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled timewaste. Go A's! Maybe we can avoid losing 100 games!