Sporty chit-chat

During the last two baseball seasons, I had the pleasure of chatting in great detail about our fantasy teams with dave and pattyjoe. Now, 3000 miles away, it's a bit more difficult to do that, but thanks to the miracle of bloggy technology, we can do that in the friendly confines of cyberspace. So please, indulge yourself in some good, old-fashioned fantasy baseball talk. And yes, this is going to be a regular feature.

• This is the first season I've had a player get really, really hot. And right now, my friends, Lance Berkman is en fuego


• Prince Fielder, on the other hand...


• On paper, my pitching staff is pretty rocking. Unfortunately, if they pitch well, they either don't get run support or aren't in a position for a save. You'll note that I said if they pitch well


• Nate McLouth and Ryan Doumit are my two early season free agency scores


• It's maddening having to juggle a bunch of decent-to-good but as of late inconsistent infielders around Mr. Reliable at shortstop

Lay your woes upon me.

Shaping and molding young minds

Two tales of the emergent political consciousness of l'il wobs.

Tale One: L'il wobs is currently enrolled in a hippy-dippy kind of Christian Montessori school. The boy apparently enjoys the religious part of the curriculum, which is fine by us, albeit a little jarring at times (for instance, when he referred to our wine as "Jesus blood." The way we see it, he'll encounter Christianity at some point - better from people who are teaching him to love everyone than from, say... Baptists. Besides, how's he ever going to appreciate Milton if he doesn't get some Judeo-Christian learning?

At any rate, a few weeks ago, l'il wobs started talking about "Rock" Obama. I was curious to know what the lad knew about "Rock," so I asked him. We were told that Obama is very beautiful, that he was put in jail, and then they killed him.

We were obviously a little surprised by his answer. Either ms. wobs or I asked him if maybe he was talking about Jesus, and l'il wobs responded, "They're the same."

Tale Two: One of l'il wobs friends and his parents weren't able to make the baseball game today, so they offered their tickets to us. We trekked down to watch the Nationals take on the Pirates. All was going well until "Star-Spangled Banner" time. To add a little razzle-dazzle to the proceedings, fireworks are launched to punctuate the "rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air."

L'il wobs hates loud fireworks and immediately broke down and wanted to leave. We talked our way through it, and he eventually re-settled and started to have a good time, charming our seatmates and munching on (four fucking dollar) Cracker Jacks.

During the bottom of the fourth, however, an Aaron Boone shot to the patio in center field brought out another round of celebratory fireworks, upon which l'il wobs recommenced freaking out. He was talked back down again, but by the time the sixth inning rolled around, he was pretty adamant about going home.

At any rate, when l'il wobs grows up to detest America, you'll know who to blame.

Little boys who refuse to grow up

This is surely taking the baseball memorabilia thing too seriously:

Brian McNamee has given federal investigators bloody gauze pads and syringes he said he used to inject Roger Clemens with steroids and human-growth hormone in 2000 and 2001, a lawyer familiar with the matter said Wednesday.

Blue dresses, bloodied syringes. What's up with the obsession with famous people's precious bodily fluids?

Clemens’s Washington attorney, Lanny Breur, issued a statement late Wednesday afternoon that contended that the notion that McNamee had saved gauze pads and syringes for seven years “defies all sensibility.”

“It is just not credible — who in their right mind does such a thing?” Breur said.

To answer your question, either someone who's going to have a Hall of Fame caliber collection of doping products or someone who knew the risks of what he was doing and wasn't about to be taken down alone.

Hardball, indeed.

*

So I suppose we'll just be putting asterisks beside the last 15 or so baseball seasons, eh? And I have to admit, I'm in love with the Post's headline: "Yankees Prominently Mentioned in Report" - couldn't have happened to a nicer team.

Looking on the bright side, at least the Cubbies last world championship wasn't tainted by all this "I had no idea they were injecting me with that" talk.

Home run kings don't go to jail

That's why we're going to know that Barry Bonds is a complete and utter fraud.

Oh yeah, and while I'm at the hating, fuck A-Rod.

Sigh

Maybe next year.

Fuck ABC!

You've got a top 25 match-up out west between Cal and Oregon, and you pre-empt it to show the fucking Terps-Rutgers game? I don't care if the game is of local interest! Screw the ACC! Give me my Ducks!

I want to believe

Usually by this time of year, I've lost interest in baseball. Fuck, who am I kidding - usually by mid-June, the Cubbies have been statistically eliminated yet again from contention. But tonight, Wrigleyville's alive with possibility as my beloved Northsiders punched their ticket to the post-season.

Hope springs eternal.

Am I ready for this? Will it be a merciful, we're-just-happy-to-be-here exit in the divisionals? An excruciating collapse in the championship series as cumulus clouds in the shape of a billy-goat leer over Waveland Avenue? Or do I dare to believe that we're a mere 99 innings of winning ball away from the end of a 99 year drought?

My great-grandfather was an 11 year old boy in Austria the last time the Cubs won the World Series (he'd become a Cubs fan after emigrating to Chicago following the First World War). My grandfather spent his entire life making pilgrimages to Wrigley Field, and died seeing them come close to the holy grail only once. My parents have only known the Lovable Losers. And I was bequeathed the comforting mantra, "Maybe next year, maybe next year..."

I'm 33 years old. There are three outs in each team's at bat per inning. 99 innings. 99 years.

I want to believe. I have to believe. Go Cubs.

Are we all watching the same game?

Because I have les canards up 32-7 over Michigan with three minutes left in the second quarter.

Holy shit!

Stick to the sports

I'm watching the Tennessee v. California game (Go Vols!). Some of you may know that there's a tree-sit going on outside Memorial Stadium in Berkeley to prevent the University of California from cutting down a grove of oak trees to make way for a $125 million athletics center.

How does the crack ABC commentary team of Brent Musburger and Kirk Herbstreit handle it? Aside from the predictable "only in Berkeley" yucks, Herbstreit is amazed that there are people actually living in trees! Meanwhile, Musburger goes on a vitriolic tirade about how the university has pledged to plant three trees for everyone they cut down, which should more than satisfy those aging hippie treehuggers, so stick that in your goddamned peace pipe and smoke it. And I'm almost quoting Musburger verbatim.

I'll politely request that the ESPN/ABC sports squads kindly refrain from the political commentary. You're kinda ruining my football game.

Pros/Cons

Pros: If Appalachian State (they of the HOT! HOT! HOT!) can take down Michigan, there's hope for our beloved Ducks.
Cons: My god, will the Wolverines be pissed next weekend.

It takes a special kind of crazy

We all know that Michael Vick is probably a pretty bad guy for running a dog-fighting ring out of his home. But did you know that he was running that ring in order to gain money to buy missiles from Iran in order to join Al Qaeda's war against Murica? It's true! Or so says the convicted felon suing him for $63 BILLION backed by gold and silver.

Booooooooooooo!

Hisssssssssssssssssssssss!

Not to trivialize anyone else's legal, professional, or moral problems, but...

Who else knew that Joey Harrington had been picked up by the Atlanta Falcons?

Cheatin' bastard.

A-Rod occupies the ninth level of hell in the inferno of my most loathed athletic figures. At least he got me over my hatred of Derek Jeter.

Cruel fate, why do you mock us so?

Come for the absolutely hee-(haw)-larious amateur play-by-play banter. Stay for the stomach-constricting lesson on "shit happening."

Hey, baseball fans!

Curt Schilling has a blog, and as far as the first two posts go, it's really enjoyable, especially his first Spring Training post. So long as he stays on the baseball talk and away from the politics, this should make for some good reading!

Down with what the kids are talking about

I hear there is some sort of large sporting event today...

Just the facts, ma'am

One of my favorite tropes in news coverage: when reporting on sports-related rioting, it's necessary to report on the final score - whether it's relevant to the rioting or not. For example:

Football in Italy has been suspended indefinitely after a police officer died during fan violence at a Serie A match between two Sicilian teams last night. The action includes all Serie A and B matches and Italy's friendly with Romania scheduled for next Wednesday.

[...]

Rioting fans forced the Catania v Palermo match to be suspended in the 58th minute - with Palermo leading 1-0 - after tear-gas filled the Angelo Massimino stadium. The match restarted after about 30 minutes but the violence continued after the game, which Palermo won 2-1.

Odd. Just how crazy is the Catania-Palermo rivalry? Well, you know it's a bad sign when you have to cage your fans...

And god forbid they try to get out of those cages...

Let the shit talking begin

So, Cecil, what will our wager be?