To keep me in gumball money, I've added another ad provider to the mix here at the site, because I just haven't been exploiting you people enough. ('m not going down the pop-up and screen takeover path, mostly because no one's made me an... um, because I feel it would be a bad user experience. Yeah, that's it.
Now, go click on some ads, buy some T-shirts and just plain give me your money via the Paypal button, because if you don't, I'm going to hold my breath for a really long time, then blog about it. And you'd rather see me blog about sports, right?
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.
More or less a transcript of a talk that I had with the eldest about boys (she's young enough to still talk to me about such things, thank heavens)...
"Well, it's like this. Should you stay in a hand if you've been dealt 2-7 off-suit?"
She looks at me. "Well, I do sometimes..."
I look at her. "But if you did that all the time, you'd lose, right?"
"Sure."
"It's the same thing in dating. If you fall in love with someone who you have nothing in common with, it's like playing 2-7 off-suit. It might work out for you; you could flop trip 2's or trip 7's, and you've got a great hand. But most of the time, that's not going to happen, and you're going to lose if the hand goes to the river."
She nods. My feeling of being a complete gambling degenerate is nicely balanced by the fact that she seems to be getting the concept.
"But if you fall in love with someone who you have a lot in common with, and for more than just because you think they are cute, it's like playing a pair of aces. It still might not work out, but you are just giving yourself more chances."
She nods, then gets distracted by something her younger sister does. I almost feel sorry for her future boyfriends, really. "I'm sorry, but now that I've gotten to know you better, I think you're King-8 suited, and I'm only dating really premium hands..."
Every year in every fantasy league, some guy overpays for saves, and almost always winds up losing his league over it. Fantasy analysts say it, but especially in keeper leagues, it's hard to get away from it: don't pay for saves. And yet, since you have to have them in all likelihood to win your league, you wind up, well, paying for saves.
While all of the selected numbers presented below are just for the first week of course, they're still fairly educational. The following eight closers were all reasonably well regarded before the draft as owning their jobs, in decent situations, and in home parks that weren't bandboxes. You wouldn't want to stake your life on any of them being absolute lockdown options, but if you had them for not so much, you'd feel OK about your team.
Or, well, not.
Brandon Morrow -- 2 saves, 10.13 ERA, 1.88 WHIP.
Brian Fuentes -- 2 saves, 12.00 ERA, 2.40 WHIP.
Kevin Gregg -- 1 save, 13.50 ERA, 3.50 WHIP.
B.J Ryan - 0 saves, 21.60 ERA, 4.20 WHIP.
Troy Percival - 1 save, 9.00 ERA, 2.00 WHIP.
Kerry Wood -- 0 saves, 9.00 ERA, 3.00 WHIP.
Jason Motte - 0 saves, 15.43 WHIP, 3.00 WHIP.
Oh, and I own(ed) over half of this list in various leagues, which explains why I'm noticing this with, well, some enhanced interest.
(I have to be brief on this one today; too much going on outside of the blog. Yes, I suck.)
Yes, the QB is a pouting whiner who should have gotten over it.
No, Chicago Fan will not hold that against him. Seriously, after the QBs that franchise had had, Cutler could come out of the huddle wearing wings and a fluffy tail and they'd eat it up.
Yes, Coach Idiot McDaniels is on the shortest leash imaginable for a new guy in Denver, having jettisoned his team's best asset with no real back up plan in check. Chris Simms and Kyle Orton do not count, unless you're adding up losses, turnovers, and career-threatening injuries.
No, Chicago did not give up too much for him, because there is no way in hell that their first round picks will be in the top half of the draft so long as Cutler is upright.
Yes, Cutler really is worth the trouble: he's mobile, has an arm, doesn't fear the rush and productive. Head aside, there aren't five quarterbacks in the League with a brighter future ahead of them. Denver Fan will get to regret this for a decade or more, along the same way the Falcon Fan regretted the Favre Trade up until about 2003.
No, he won't be as good in Chicago, because he won't have Brandon Marshall and Eddie Royal at the wideouts. But at least now he has a running back and a defense. In real terms, he'll win more games; in fantasy ones, he just dropped five spots in rank for 2009-10.
No, I'm not sold that Orlando Pace at tackle for the Bears was a great addition, because he hasn't been healthy for years. But he could have just been dogging it to get the hell out of St. Louis. It's a better gamble than most.
Yes, this does make the Bears better and a possible division winner, but I still think the Packers have the most talent in the division.
And finally... I think the Broncos will go 3-13 this year, and that McDaniels will be run out of town on a rail. Just one more genius that wasn't from the Belichick Tree.
(Oh, and there will also be a jokey hacky list link on this later in the day, because I've gotten a fresh invite from Editor Scrap of Epic Carnival infamy to whore myself out again. Time to go shave my legs.)
In utterly meaningless news that will serve only to depress me when I start to do the math of posts per visitors, this remarkably unpopular sports blog just had Visitor #100,000, at least according to the site traffic system I use.
In reality, there have been more than 100,000 separate visits; the site didn't have a traffic service for the first six ad-free months of operations, and there have been weekends when the moron who maintains this place messed up the tracking pixel. (That would be, well, me.) But arbitrary moments of accomplishment are like this, really.
Visitor #100,000 was from Trenton, NJ, on a Macintosh, using Firefox, viewed three pages and left in 99 seconds without leaving a comment. The visit happened today at 8:34 am... and I bet I know the person in question.
Feel free, if you believe yourself to be our lucky Six Figure Visitor, to post in the comments. Your prize will be the entire day's ad revenue, which is to say, not enough money to buy gum.
And if you didn't win, take heart. We'll be doing this again when we get to visitor #200,000, which is currently projected to happen in the middle of 2010. Maybe.
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.
1) Leave wallet at home, which means the Shooter Wife has to meet me in Newark so that I can get my PATH card and building ID to complete my commute. She, of course, has to get kids to school first, so I've just made my 100-minute take, oh... 200 minutes. If I'm lucky.
2) In transferring from the freeloaded train to the waiting area, have the mobile broadband card fail, which means that the Shooter Wife may have real issues finding me at the station, since she hasn't been here before and will be driving around in rush hour traffic with a 3-year-old. Her cell phone is also prone to failure.
3) Find the blind guy that needs to read his Bible out loud in ever-increasing amounts of volume in the lounge area. He, of course, activates the Japanese tourist on his cell phone, so they can have a Noise Off.
4) Have the laptop lose power any minute now, I'm sure.
5) After moving away from Mr. Bible and Friends, be surrounded by guys who smell like poo as I wait for the Shooter Wife. Newark's lovely in off-peak hours.
I'm sure the rest of my day will be just peachy. Hey veterans, are we friends again yet?
Welcome to Atlantic City, and "Badly Beaten," Spiked TV's latest effort to fill the nation's airhole with poker coverage. Tonight, we're proud to give you live hidden camera footage of random amateurs attempting to play poker with high-larious consequences. Let's get to the action!
Biff Biffley: Tonight, we've got Shooter, a man that's held his own in a monthly basement games with friends for six months. He's walking into a casino poker room for the first time this weekend, after getting crushed at the blackjack tables. We're in for some good fun tonight, aren't we Norman?
Norman Chad: We certainly are, Biff. Not only have we stacked the deck to make sure that when Shooter folds any kind of hand it will appear on the flop, we've also given all of the other player access to his hole cards via special monitors in their cup holders. Finally, his chair has been specially wired to give us his vital medical signs. This is in addition to his usual tell, which is looking pissed off at crap hands, means we're in for hours of stepping on a rake fun!
Biff: To add to the torture, we're going to give Shooter something to play every 15 hands. We're up to that now, and he's got nine-ten clubs as his hole cards.
Chad: And he's in for the flop! Let's look at those vitals now, Biff. You see, he's so beaten down, there's barely any movement in his pulse or blood pressure. He's beaten before he even gets cards!
Biff: Seven players for the flop, bringing the pot up to a robust $14. Shooter's vitals have picked up beyond comatose, Chad. Isn't that charming -- he has hope of actually making some money on this hand.
Chad: It's like Charlie Brown with the football with this guy, Biff. You've got to respect that... all the way to the bank.
Biff: The flop is the nine of spades, the ten of hearts, and the queen of clubs. That gives Shooter the only community pairs, a chance at a flush and a straight, and his first scent of hope at getting some of his money back. How are his vitals, Chad!
Chad: Almost up to a hospital patient, Biff. With cancer in three places.
Biff: Shooter has last action, and since this is a limit game, nearly every hand goes to the river and beyond, since it's been pretty cheap to see the cards -- every other hand has at least gone to the turn tonight. And that's six players checking. Will Shooter bet and watch them all drop, or check and see more cards that will eventually kill him?
Chad: Any sane man would bet here and hope that some money would follow him in. Shooter's puzzling it out for a few seconds... oh, isn't that adorable, Biff! He's trying to actually make the other players think he has bad cards!
Biff: Nice work on the part of the other players from not busting out laughing as they look at Shooter's hole cards on the small monitors we've placed in their cup holders. Shooter finally bets, and... everyone else folds, in a new record time of 3.5 seconds. That's even faster than the last time he had cards, Norman.
Chad: Right you are, Biff. But Shooter's the big winner with a $12 profit from his first good hand in two hours. And the best part is... he's actually pleased to have won the $12. God, I love this kid. Let's take him out back and rape him after the show. Whaddya say?
Biff: Of course, Norman. You want to take him from in front or behind?
Chad: Well, I'm uglier than you, with more visible lesions. I'm going topside.
Biff: Works for me. After these hands, his ass is going to be so well-lubricated, it'll be like hitting an oil slick.
Chad: But just for you, Biff, thanks to your Humiliation brand sandpaper condoms. Remember folks, for the kind of top-shelf reaming they'll remember, look for the label that says Humiliation Brand sandpaper condoms!
Biff: And that's all the time we've got tonight on "Badly Beaten." See you again in three weeks, when Shooter returns to Atlantic City with all of his friends!
So here it is, mid June -- the time-honored middle of the WNBA season. I've got nothing left to watch in terms of hoops, not unless you count that Olympic nonsense. And while the regular season has huge drama already -- will the Atlanta Dream ever win a game? Are the Connecticut Suns for real? Why aren't the Sacramento Monarchs better? -- I can't help but feel that something is missing.
Namely, where is the fantasy sports support?
Go to WNBA.com -- I know, you're there all the time, but go now anyway. What you won't find, amidst all of the thrilling video, breathtaking photography and gripping game accounts, is support for my fantasy sports jones. You won't find it on Yahoo or ESPN, either.
What's the meaning of this? If I weren't still outraged by the league's inevitable screw job of Seattle out of its beloved Storm -- especially heartbreaking given that team's encouraging 8-6 record after years in the wilderness -- my gast would be flabbered by this. Don't the powers that be know that despite the incredible teamwork of the world's best distaff ballers, statistics still matter... and that it's damned deadly difficult for all of us out here with our WNBA fantasy leagues to do this all by hand?
(I know it's bad blogger form to talk about your roto teams, but I have to just share here for a moment, and tell you just how much Cappie Poindexter of the Phoenix Mercury has meant to my team this year. The Rutgers guard has always been an all-around performer, but this year's 25.7 points a game, albeit only in the first 10 games of the season, is a huge reason why I'm just dominating my leauge. She's really combined with Diana Taurasi to make the Phoenix team fun to watch, and while they might not have the bigs to compete in the West, they have just been fantasy gold. Anyway, moving on.)
For the very few of you out there who aren't already in an WNBA fantasy league that someone's running by hand, let me give you a few pointers. First off, don't target assists. In the WNBA, since everyone moves the ball and isolation plays are rare, the difference in assists per game isn't as great as in the men's game. Even a Ticha Penicheiro won't give you more than one or two more dimes a game than a less accomplished point guard.
Second, since the games have eight less minutes than the men, you have to ratchet your statistical expectations down a little, and pro-rate players accordingly. Lisa Leslie's good for nearly 10 boards a game even in the smaller time, so you can see what kind of monster she's be with the full 48. (You've really got to give it up to Double L, coming back from pregnancy to dominate like this.)
Third, blocked shots are at an incredible premium, with only four players currently racking up more than 2 a game. You can see why so many people who play this game insist on an auction draft, so that the team with Lisa Leslie really has to make do with a short bench. It's just not a good league for a serpentine draft.
Earlier this year, the WNBA was giving a very cheap handjob kind of fantasy game, with single player head to heads, but dammit... my league goes 8 teams with 12 players, which means we're really going deep into the talent pool. I'd hate to see the level of play diluted by expansion, but it really would make a difference in having a better league.
Finally, I'd like to really thank site contributor The Truth for getting me into the WNBA fantasy league. His insistence that watching the WNBA would be just like rooting for the Lakers (especially Radmanovic and Gasol) in our NBA picks game, the payment of which is posting something spectacularly humiliating... well, it's given me a brand-new fantasy love, just in time for the summer dead season. Expect Great!
Today in Chicago, the Cubs continued their magical mystery year with an 11-7 mudkick of their crosstown rivals. And you wouldn't be hearing about this here if it weren't for the continued hell that is my life with Jose Contreras.
For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of close witness to JC, he's a big maddening pitcher with incredible streaks in both directions. When he's good, he's a borderline All-Star with a lot of movement. When he's bad, he nibbles, falls behind, then gets taken deep. These streaks have a remarkable ability to change, usually for the worse, when I make the fateful decision to roll the dice with him... and every time it happens, I convince myself that I'm not going to do it again, only to know that I probably will.
Today's fourth inning: 10 hitters faced, 1 hitter retired, 8 earned runs, 3 long balls. Not only did this significantly impact my roto team, despite the previous 600+ innings, but it really does speak to something about the ChiSox manager, Ozzie Guillen. I'm not sure who leaves in a pitcher to take that kind of a beating. A week or so ago, Contreras was well under 3 with the ERA; now, he's just under 4. It's not like Oz was really hoping to save his bullpen, either -- he still wound up using three other guys. The Sox still have a significant lead in the AL Central.
And yet, Guillen still left in his starter to more or less get crushed. Which tells you something about the ChiSox manager. And, hopefully, something else about the wisdom of owning Contrearas, even in a 2-start week that looks good before he, you know, actually takes the hill and gets his head kicked in...
Yes kids, another group blog wants l'il ol' me to help fill their bloghole. Your link is here.
In The Weeds is a golf-only blog, and having just ran into my best friend and golfing partner from back in the day when I had time to do such things... well, let's just say the memory has been tapped. Along with the open question of where the nearest driving range is, because I do know where my clubs are. And there we are, right back on the junk, howling at the moon, face down in the gutter...
Much stuff -- i.e., hosting the House of Meat auction -- going on in personal life, so the blogging is taking a miss. I'll load you up with goodness on Sunday.
> Boston's Hideki Okajima wins the fan balloting for the last AL All-Star spot.
What are the odds that the Red Sox guy would win a popularity contest? Shocking.
> The All-Star Injury Dance Begins
Bonds, A-Rod, Smoltz... because, let's face it, it's a heck of a lot nicer to be named to the team than to actually play.
> ChiSox finally score, win.
Of course. I had the pitcher who faced them tonight.
> Tigers crush Indians.
Of course. I had a bet on the Tribe.
> Josh Beckett wins his 12th.
Finally, the Mentoring Effect of Bloggy McBloggermouth can really be seen.
> The Mets break a losing streak in Houston.
The Astros are a pale version of the Giants - instead of Bonds chasing the record, you had Biggio chasing 3,000 hits. Both teams are old, bad, and saddled with a bad bullpen. But at least the 'Stros aren't on the hook for $20+ million of Roger Clemens.
> The Pirates beat the Brewers again.
And this is why the 4 games under .500 Cardinals, with a starting rotation where Mike Maroth is an upgrade, think they've got a chance. (They also lost Bill Hall tonight.)
> Brad Penny has a blister issue, then got blistered.
13 baserunners and 6 earned runs in his first four innings tonight. On the other hand, he did have 3 RBIs. Bet the AL to win the All-Star Game.
> Bobby Crosy, after being buried in FTT, hit a go-ahead home run today against the Mariners.
Keep making us look bad, Bobby. We'll hate you to Cooperstown. For the good of the team.
Well, Nation, the dream is over. Dan Shanoff moves on in the Hot Blogger Contest, despite his crippling good looks, throbbing site traffic, and Deadspin/World Wide Lemur bigamy. He squeaked out a win by a scant 50+ percentage points. At least we made him sweat.
We'd like to thank the 300 or so people who voted for us. We'd also like to thank Dan himself, who linked to our mudslinging and gave his readers the chance to vote for him despite his many, many failings. For this, we've added a permanent link to Dan's blog in the FTT Approved Blog Links. With this now in his arsenal, we're sure he'll sweep to the championship -- because, clearly, we could only be beaten by the eventual winner. Right?
For those of us who are still in the early stages of loss, we've provided a soundtrack clip for an evening of eating ice cream and crying. (It won't be the first time.)
(Oh, and as a final aside, I blame my kids for not being cute enough to turn around the voting. No ice cream for either of you -- this is *Daddy's* ice cream.)
Yesterday in the Ladies... Hot Blogger Challenge, our opponent, the pictured Dan Shanoff, was up by 58 percentage points, threatening to make this matchup the most lopsided in the entire contest.
But today, thanks to the airings of certain truths, the relentless pimping of our kids, and the good work of people like McBias, who made the poster above, we've got Pretty Boy Shanoff on the run. His lead is now down to a scant 52 points!
With voting set to end on Saturday, this still leaves us with a little ways -- say, 500 votes -- to go, but we're confident that the sports blogosphere will take our Cinderella story to heart and vote. Because, if you don't, the Harvard guy wins. And no one wants to see that, do we?
OK, the first day of the Hot Sports Blogger Challenge didn't go too well for us here at FTT -- we're losing by a 4-to-1 margin to a guy who used to write the Daily Quickie column over at the World Wide Lemur.
But we're confident that we can make up the gap once all the facts about our competition are made public. Also, once the Indian subcontinent weighs in (FTT's tech workers are legion), it's all going to turn around. For us and Sanjiyah.
Please note that this is not a case of us going negative. We report, you decide.
10) "Dan Shanoff" is not actually his real name. His real name is Ted Hitler.
9) Shanoff's gleaming skin? Achieved by bathing in the blood of young boys. From New Orleans.
8) Has a black baby from Southeast Asia. The father is John McCain.
7) Enjoys riding in tanks. Over Chinese dissidents.
6) Shanoff's best friend? Willie Horton. He goes and visits him on weekends, and then they go joy-riding.
5) Supports net partisanship, which means that he thinks that his sports blog is the only one you should be able to read. Fight the Shanoff Power!
4) Exfoliates, moisturizes, and uses cosmetics. But not on places you'd normally see.
3) Goes for the full body Brazilian. His name is Rocco. (Not that there is anything wrong with that.)
2) Does not actually write anything on his blog. The content on DanShanoff.com is actually written by sweatshop writers from Cleveland.
1) Does not even have the decency to mention pissant #22 seeds who have clearly been set up by the Ladies sports blog for exceptional humiliation. All because we didn't read their silly instructions asking for just one link, and don't, you know, actually look good.
Well, Ladies, I hope you're happy. You've made these little girls cry, because now they thinks their daddy isn't as pretty as Dan Shanoff.
(Oh, and Shanoff? If FTT doesn't win this contest, my wife and I can't afford the operations these little girls both need. Of course, people who are as beautiful as you don't have consciences, do they?)
Now, FTT Nation -- how do we turn back the Shanoff Horde?
Simple. Get your friends to vote. Spam everyone in your address book. Go on Second Life and MySpace and all of those other things you wacky kids do. Vote early, vote often, vote Quimby! Er, FTT.
Oh, and if anyone knows how to crash Shanoff's site and rig the voting, we can not legally promise that they'll be GIVEN FABULOUS PRIZES. (But it'll so totally happen.)
Don't do it for me. Do it for FTT. Do it for Caretaker. Do it for all of us.
Cleveland over BOSTON with a 10.5 run OVER. Yes, it's the return of the parlay bet that never works, but with both teams swinging the bats well and Boston escaping the ninth tonight (translation: less Papelbon tomorrow), I like the chances for the Tribe to win in a slugfest. Sowers v. Beckett, and the latter has a bad track record vs. Cleveland. 2,500 to win 2,600 on a 10.5 run over, and 2,000 to win 3,300 on Cleveland.
Braves over BREWERS. Smoltz vs. Sheets in an ace matchup, and Smoltz is going for that big win #201. I think he'll celebrate by going "Woo Hoo." 2,500 to win 2,675 on Atlanta.
Wednesday
In the words of my mother, well, that was unfortunate. Nothing to do but blow the rest of the week's hopes on a couple of road dogs.
Giants over METS. Zito vs. Glavine as the Giants try to avoid the sweep. Zito's numbers are bad for the year, but it's mostly come in a few starts, and I think he'll shine under the NYC spotlight. He'll also be motivated to avoid giving the game to Armando Blownitez. 2,500 to win 3,475.
Mariners over ANGELS. Seattle's been playing well and has King Felix going. Last time out, he got hammered against this team; today, he'll deal. Jered Weaver goes for the Halos, and has been a little shaky recently. 2,500 to win 2,875.
Thursday
An even day with a slight bump for the money. Down big, running out of days, have to bet it all on road dogs. Do not try this at home.
Giants over METS. Once more into the Shea, with Matt Cain facing Orlando Hernandez. The moneyline is too good for a pitcher of Cain's standing, and El Duque has been battling health issues since the Truman Administration. 3,475 to win 4,240.
White Sox over JAYS. Buerhle vs. Halladay gives the moneyline big to the home team, but Halladay's coming off an injury, Buerhle has a history of success against the Jays, and the ChiSox usually respond to Ozzie going off his meds. 3,500 to win 4,970.
Friday - No mas! 1-6 so far this week. We're going to go on a three-day binge of drinking Scotch and try to move on. Late.
As this blog grows in readership (y’all don’t comment so much, but thousands of you show up every week)...
And our enemies list of sports blogs grows (yes, I’m looking at you, With Leather, and you, Deadspin– and you both know what you did)...
Well, it is going to get harder and harder to keep certain unsavory, Greg Lemond-like aspects of our childhood, well, secret.
Some things are bound to come up.
And if we have learned anything from the news (and no, we have not, and neither have you), it is this…
It is not the crime that gets you killed. It is the cover up.
So, in the interest of outing myself before someone like The Truth does, here is the first of many shameful sports secrets about myself:
I was a Junior Putter of America.
Also, following a cash payment of $10 for my membership card, a Professional Putter of America, which meant that I could play in adult tournaments that were, I shit you not, televised in the early days of ESPN.
What in the hell, you might ask, is a Junior Putter? Basically, it was (is?) Little League for miniature golf players, though we would become highly offended and agitated if you called it that.
(Why did I go for this instead of, you know, Little League? One year of failing to catch the ball, mostly because I do not have binocular vision or much in the way of depth perception, was more than enough. It also did not help that I was cowardly, slow, weak, and puny. Moving on.)
You see, we did not play miniature golf, with its clown face animals, unreliable chute holes, and revolving fan blades.
Such things were garish.
Uncouth.
Beneath us.
No, we were Sport Putters.
Sport Putting means stroking the ball just so, with back and front spins, or aiming for arcane sight lines or marks, so that you could get just the right kind of bank shot. So you are more or less playing pool, but with a putter.
You also had to "read" the green, which is to say, know when the concrete under the felt or Astroturf (but mostly felt) sagged, buckled, or tilted. The YouTube clip at the top of this entry gives you the gist, complete with intimidating towel snaps.
If you are very good at this, you get holes in one routinely, so that your score is at least in the low ‘30s, and maybe even down to the rare but possible 18. (My low: 25 in practice, 27 in competition.)
Yes, there were teams, and jerseys, and I was a team captain in 4-on-4 match plays where 20 to 30 people would follow two tweener boys around as if we were Palmer and Nicklaus, only, you know, really, really not.
It also meant winning trophies where the figure on the trophy is putting, which is to say, looking like he is grabbing his junk and squeezing it for all he is worth.
I got good enough at this to make All Star teams.
Win tournaments.
Go, on three separate occasions, to the National Championships in Memphis, TN and Richmond, VA.
In my final year, I placed in the top 20 in the nation of all 15-year-olds in stroke play.
It even got me to second base as a 15-year-old, with a real live girl, who was somehow struck by my Tiger-esque death stare of concentration and sport putting honed ass.
Anyway, now that this is out of the bag, we can all go back to the business of this blog, secure in the knowledge that those bastards over at Arrowhead Addict can not wreak any more havoc on me and my family with their blackmail schemes.
Oh, and if you doubt my skills, we will settle this in the only way it can really be settled – for the early ‘80s high stakes wager of a buck a stroke at Philadelphia #1, Course #2.
You just name the time, and I’ll bring my steel centered special putting balls, golden PPA embossed blade (I called him "Excalibur"), 25 year old trick shot memories, extraordinarily dated smack talk, and a great deal of pain – almost all of it self-inflicted.
GIANTS over Mets, UNDER (9 runs). The Mets haven't seen Barry Zito before, but Ollie Perez has been downright encouraging. Look for the Giants to win a close, low-scoring game. 2,000 to win 1,980 on the Giants, with 2,000 to win 1,802 on the under.
Tuesday
After last night's de facto push (nice defense, Mets), I'm going after a few big underdogs with light money, and a favorite with heavy.
Nats over BREWERS. The best record in the NL has to end sometime, and Dave Bush has been terrible. Jason Simontacchi has a couple of good starts in his history against the Brew Crew. 1,000 to win 1,990.
JAYS over Red Sox. Call it a hunch, but I think Josh Beckett is due for a rough time. Victor Zambrano has some talent. 1,000 to win 1,760 on the home dog.
TWINS over White Sox. Boof Bonser is starting to come aroud, and Javy Vazquez can be rough in the Dome. 2,000 to win 1,802 on the slight home favorite.
Wednesday
OK, I give, I give, the Nats will never win again. Let's just move on. 2-3 for the week, but the bigger bet winner has me trolling around even money.
Phillies over DBACKS. Don't look now, but Randy Johnson is aging faster than a high-school girl working as a pole dancer. Plus, the D-Backs have never faced Jamie Moyer before. 2,500 to win 2,273 on the Phils.
A's over ROYALS. Could Gil Meche really be a good signing for the Royals? No. Besides, Dan Haren is getting close to dominant, and the A's just own this team. 2,500 to win 2,101 on Oakland.
Thursday
Treading water and losing slowly. 3-4 for the week, so let's go deeper.
Rangers over YANKEES. I'm not ready to throw in the towel on Brandon McCarthy yet, and Chien-Ming Wang is rarely dominant. 1,000 to win 2,600 on the road dog.
BRAVES over Padres, OVER. Hudson vs. Wells won't do you no favors on the money line, but sometimes you go there anyway. I like the Braves to win big here, and the Padres to score runs late. 1,500 to win 773 on the win, 1,500 to win 1,282 on an 8-run over.
White Sox over TWINS. By the numbers, Jose Contreras is worse than Carlos Silva this year, but the numbers lie; most of Jose's bad stuff comes from a disastrous opening day. Besides, no Joe Mauer takes a lot of teeth out of the Twins lineup. 2,000 to win 2,260 on the light road dogs from Chicago.
Friday
A 3-0-1 day brings me up to plus $5,200 for the week, and within shouting distance of the top spot. Let the good times roll.
Cards over PADRES. Kip Wells against Jake Peavy is making this a big moneyline for the hometown team, but Peavy's career record against the Cards is not good, and Wells has gone deep into the game 4 out of the last 5 starts against San Diego. 2,000 to win 3,700.
Angels over RANGERS. Hot off a salvaging stomp of the Yankees in New York, the Rangers fly home to face John Lackey. I think they'll leave their bats on the plane, but Vincente Padilla won't be so lucky. 2,000 to win 1,600.
Tigers over TWINS. I've made some good coin this year going against Johan Santana at home, and with the Twinkies really struggling to score runs these days, I'm willing to pull the trigger with Mike Maroth one more time. 2,000 to win 3,660.
Saturday
Another 2-1 day pushes it higher, but then NBX takes forever to put up tickets, locking me out of the early games -- and while I'm up for the week, it's not enough to be in the top spot. 4 road warrior picks for the late games...
Reds over DODGERS. Penny has been great this year, but Kyle Lohse has been solid as well, and this Dodger team just isn't scoring runs yet. 2,500 to win 4,100.
Giants over ROCKIES. From watching Barry Zito for years in Oakland, I've seen him win without the good curveball. Jeff Francis just never inspires confidence. 2,000 to win 1,739.
Cards over PADRES. Looper's been very solid, and the money line is appealing. 2,500 to win 3,225 on the Cards.
Yanks over MARINERS. I like what I've read about Yankee farmhand Matt DiSalvo, and the Mariners are starting the truly horrible Miguel Batista. 2,000 to win 1,493 on the Bombers.
Sunday
Gah. Had this all written up, and then Blogger ate my post. A 2-2 day leaves us in sriking distance, but wer'e going to have to go big. So, going quick with it...
Cubs over PHILLIES (Lilly v. Lieber - home town team hasn't seen Lilly yet). Giants over ROCKIES (Matt Cain v. Taylor Bucholz, the former is due.) Angels over RANGERS - (Evin Santana is due, and Mike Wood is a long reliever), and OAKLAND over Cleveland (Chad Gaudain over Cliff Lee).
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