A Good Ribbing

People are giving Mets announcer Keith Hernandez a hard time for telling it like it is about a supposedly sensitive issue. Earlier this week, Keith spoke up about what he saw as a wrong thing. During a game against the Padres, Keith noticed a woman in a Padres uniform giving Mike Piazza a high-five. “Who is the girl in the dugout, with the long hair?” he said during the broadcast. He found out later on that she was a member of the Padres training staff. After learning that, he said, “I won’t say women belong in the kitchen. But they don’t belong in the dugout.” And now Keith has to apologize for his “offensive” comments, which is garbage for lots of reasons.

First of all, I don’t see anything wrong with speaking your mind. Keith is a color commentator for the Mets, and I’m sure he’s doing a great job for them. He gets paid to offer his observations on what happens during a game, which is what he did in this case. Just because folks don’t agree with him doesn’t mean that he’s wrong, or that he should apologize. If commentators were forced to apologize after every single thing they said that someone didn’t agree with, no one would ever get to say anything. If folks only want to hear someone they agree with say anything, they should just lock themselves in their closet and talk to themselves.

Censorship is wrong in any area, especially in public. To tell Keith what he can or can’t think is something George Orwell called thought-crime. And Orwell, in his book 1984, wrote about an oppressive future where people did nothing but work all day and live in fear of being killed. And it’s situations like this where a destructive future is born. Right now, it’s folks telling Keith to apologize for speaking his mind. Tomorrow, it’s someone telling you or me that we can’t tell dirty jokes any more. Next year, we’re all wearing tracking collars and working on chain gangs. And who wants to live like that?

For the record, I agree with Keith. Baseball is a man’s game. That’s why there’s softball. You don’t see men playing women’s softball (unlike men’s softball, of course), so why should there be women in men’s baseball? There are just certain places were women shouldn’t be allowed, and a baseball dugout is one of them. In order for these players to do what they’re paid to do, they have to be totally comfortable at all times. That means they shouldn’t have to worry about hiding their junk every time a woman bounces by in the locker room, or have some pretty tush in tight baseball pants staring right at them in the dugout. Temptation is everywhere, and it’s hard enough to not give in already. There are enough of these distractions in the stands that having them on the playing field as well is just overkill. (And don’t get me started on ballgirls.) Hell, just knowing some hottie like Kris Benson’s wife or Aaron Boone’s girl (or Trinka Lowe!) could be watching me bring the heat turns me into a walking tripod.

What it boils down to: people are very protective of their personal space. Hitters want every inch of that batters box, just like pitchers want every inch of the strike zone. Women are very protective of their kitchens and china cabinets and their man’s children. And all baseball players want every inch of the clubhouse and dugout to be their own personal sanctuary. Which means no women. It’s a fact of life. Guys need their space, too. Remember all that guff about women wanting equal rights and equal pay a while ago? Well, here’s the payback. As soon as guys clamor to spend time with female soccer and tennis pros, then maybe this will change. But after all we’ve given up already, don’t expect it to happen from our end. We see what’s happened to the NBA. It’s not gonna happen in America’s pasttime. And don’t expect any apologies from me. Baseball is a man’s man’s man’s world, baby. Deal with it.

Todd Jones is a relief pitcher for the Detroit Tigers, and a contributor to SportingNews.com.

Yard Work Fantasy Draft Scuttlebutt

Okay, you hosers can stop with all the emails now. “Oh pleeeze Spart-Daddy, how did the YW draft go, I have to know, OMG WTF LOL” You know I never comment on a draft until three weeks after it happens, too much to take in all at once. Now that we’re out of the woods, and well into the new season, we can take a look at the dilly-o and see how the little people did, and why their teams aren’t as good as mine, and all that jazzola.

To remind you: we have 12 teams, serpentine draft, no whammies. Categories: standard 9 x 7: 1B, 2B, 3B, HR, SB, CS, BB, FPCT, SLG, GS, IP, HR, WP, GIDP, WHIP, K/BB. Draft took place on April 1, 2006, the day before the season started. Here goes.

ROUND 1: The big surprise was Hee Seop Choi taking Brad Wilkerson with the very first pick of the draft. This would be later eclipsed by virtually everything Hee Seop did. Lew Ford took himself. Anna Benson, as you know, took Kris Benson — well, actually it wasn’t Anna, but Anna’s 15-yr-old babysitter, Julie, who was working off a pre-draft list. (Actually, homegirl sounded a LOT older than 15. You KNOW Spart-a-pimp is following up on that lead.) A-Rod slipped to Pick 5, and went to wacky old Gerard, showing not just a fundamental lack of originality but also a basic misunderstanding of fantasy baseball; viz, NO ONE HAS EVER WON WITH ALEX RODRIGUEZ ON THEIR TEAM. A-Puj was #6, went to the Unicorns, ho hum. Rickey Henderson grabbed up Jose Reyes, I had no idea what that strategy was all about. Joe Morgan took Derek Jeter, but you read about that already, and ew. I considered myself fortunate to get Prince Fielder at #10, and small wonder; he’s got two home runs already on the year. Do fries come with that Spart-diddy fantasy title?

ROUND 2: Morganna, having taken David Wright last time, follows up with Ryan Howard. This was an interesting pick but I don’t think she did it for the “wright” reasons. I think she’s just a horny old broad with fake ones — BUT MORE POWER TO HER FOR THAT. Rickey snagged Pedro, which isn’t a bad pick given the circumstances. (Not what I would do, but whatevz.) I was sweating out Brian McCann, but he fell to me and I pounced on that ass like a lion on a goat haunch. Johan, Man-Ram, and Ichiro were all drafted here, ho hum SNORE.

ROUND 3: Here Hee Seop leads off by grabbing Andy Marte, to which I can only say “HUNH?” Baseball Mike yoinked Chone Figgins; good luck with THAT guy my friend. Anna B. took Tom Glavine, I guess we know WHO that chick was thinking of with her infidelity pledge last year when Kris was Met-ted Up. Bonds, Cabrera, Abreu, Ortiz, Halladay all fell here. I took Felix Pie, YEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHH BBBOOOYYYEEE!

ROUND 4: Here’s where Joe Morgan spit the bit, selecting Neifi Perez with pick 1. Like all right-thinking people, I have to go vomit, and almost missed my turn; luckily, I was able to grab Delmon Young here for my team, SadaharuOHNOYOUDIDNT. Rickey took another character pick: Gary Sheffield. I notice that some of our new jacks are having an okay draft so far — Unicorns dude grabs Peavy here, having already locked up Pujols, Manny, and Miggy, and Darren Daulton takes Andruw Jones to go with D-Lee and Tejada. Sugar Boogers dude, sadly, grabs Podsednik, proving that he is about as ignorant as a pig in high heels.

ROUND 5: Here’s where it all started to get interesting…for me, that is, because here’s where I snapped up Jeremy Hermida. Yeah, I guess I could have gotten him a round or two later, but I wanted him on my team. Sure, he’s grabbing a heaping helping of DL round about now, but a) I didn’t know that at the time, duh, and b) wait until he’s back, my little invisible friends, just you wait. I roffled at some other pixxx though. Julie took “Mike Pizza” for Anna B., that was kinda classic; Cosloy took some aged tuna named Alfonso Soriano, but for most of the spring he was probably regretting that about as much as Matador regretted signing Pizzicato Five; Hee took Aaron Heilman, I wet my pants; Rickey was true to form by taking ol’ Jeff Kent, the best-dressed man in town. (Haha yr all too dumb to get that reference but that’s okay, I’m used to being the smartest kid in class.)

ROUND 6: Best pick: me (C. Granderson). Worst pick: Hee Seop (R. Doumit).

ROUND 7: Best pick: me (B. McCarthy). Worst pick: Lew Ford (J. Morneau).

ROUND 8: Best pick: moi (R. Weeks). Worst pick: Anna B. (W.M. Pena)

ROUND 9: Best pick: yo (Z. Duke). Worst pick: TIE: Morganna (N. Lowry), JoMo (E. Gagne).

ROUND 10: Best pick: Julie the babysitter for drunk-IMing me. (UPDATE: Turns out she IS fifteen after all, so I won’t be on that after all. But her webcam works, brother, it works just FOINE.) Worst pick: everyone else, probably.

And so on. Okay, so we’re in week four now, and I’m in last place for right now. But that’s mostly just pitching and hitting, Rickie’s in a slump, it’ll work out, it’s all good, I fully expect to be in the catbird seat by June 10. I guess I’m a little surprised that Baseball Mike is in the lead, considering his picks were ass squared, but c’est la guerre, mon frere. As of this writing, Unicorns are hanging in at #2, Morganna at #3, and Rickey Henderson at #4, even though he’s not getting paid for any of this. (I think I told him there was a cash prize. Hee hee, ain’t I a stinka?)

That’s all, Spartacalifragiliciousexpialidopeness is out like yr mom’s weave. Holla at yr boy.

Spartacus is the single most sought-after numbers runner in baseball today. Believe it before it destroys you. He has a website but lady, if you have to ask…

What’s On Ozzie’s Mind? (April Win Streak Edition)

ozzie

We’ve been winning a lot of games lately. This is a winning club. I prefer winning to losing, especially in April. If we win one more time then it’ll be nine in a row, which will be one more than the streak we had last October against LA and Houston. That might indicate that this year’s team is better than the one that won the World Series last year, but I’m not sure about that. It’s a long season.

I watched Bobby Jenks eat a ten-egg omelette for dinner last Wednesday. Later that night he saved the game in the ninth. That’s unbelievable. The guys in the bullpen said he had terrible gas all night though.

I won’t ever drive with Freddy Garcia. Never again. He can’t hold his lane and listens to nothing but ABBA and Cher … I like “The Winner Takes It All”, sometimes, but that’s about it.

Very exciting finish in last night’s Washington-Atlanta game … by the end of the year, I could have more World Series titles than Bobby Cox, then I could retire … Nick Johnson grounded out with two men on to end it, 3-1. Johnson weighs 20 pounds less than Bobby Jenks, or so I’ve been told because I’ve never seen him in a towel.

What will I buy Jon Garland for his birthday this year? Last year I gave him a bottle of rum, this year maybe a strip-o-gram would be better.

Baseball is crazy. Last week our starting five won five straight games. They went 5-0 with a 0.97 ERA. That’s crazy, man. How do they do it? They make me look like the smartest manager ever. I have street smarts. Those guys are so good, I don’t even have to use my street smarts. Maybe I should start working on my book smarts? I hear that they made a movie about “The DaVinci Code” and it’s coming out next month. Maybe I should finally read that book? It’s probably best to read the book before seeing the movie. Vasquez pitches on Tuesday against Seattle, that sounds like a good time to start reading a new book.

I’m glad Paul Konerko chose to stay with the White Sox. He has five homers so far this year and all of them were hit out of the park. He’s been in the league only nine years and he already has more homers than I hit in my entire major league career. I hit 28 and he has 214. I was a faster runner than him though. In fact, I’m still faster.

My cousin phoned me today and said it was 79 degrees in Caracas. It was 66 degrees in Chicago today … for my money, you just can’t do better for cheese than a nice smoked gouda.

Ozzie Guillen is the manager of the Chicago White Sox. He was the AL Rookie of the Year in 1985, was a three-time AL All-Star, and doesn’t understand the point of marble cheddar.

Mea Culpa (with benefits)

varner

I’m writing this to tell you I’m sorry. The people in the Padres organization deserve an explanation. As for the fans in Fort Wayne of the Midwest League, who came to the ballpark every night to cheer me on as I racked up save after save, I owe you all an explanation more than anyone.

Life on the road is damn tough. This ain’t the major leagues. Our team shuttles from dingy town to dingy town in a broken down bus with no air conditioning. We only receive $14 meal allowance per day. If we need a massage from the trainer, we have to wait until he’s finished with the team’s laundry first. The boys stay sane through it all by playing hard on the field and partying harder off the field. After the game, the team heads out to a tavern to drink cheap beer and talk to some pretty ladies. When you’re slogging through the minor league system, not knowing if you’ll ever get called up to the big club, the advances of a local girl that you’ll probably never see again can mean the world to you.

But in my case, I had no such luck. I was a skinny dude with terrible migraines. After the ballgame my migraines would usually act up and I wouldn’t feel like heading out and having fun with the rest of the team. On the few occasions when I felt up to it, the ladies wouldn’t pay any attention to me and I couldn’t blame them. I used to be the guy who stood meekly in a corner watching the girls flock to the muscle-bound corner outfielders. You try explaining what a “save” is to a barely legal blonde girl who’s working on her fifth draft beer. Those girls looked at my skinny frame and they didn’t believe me when I said I was with the team.

There’s a lot more to steroid use than what the papers choose to focus on. Steroids make you stronger, faster, and leaner. And as you surely know, muscle-building enhances blood circulation which does wonders for clearing up migraines. It only took a couple of days for me to notice improvements. Within three weeks, my migraines were completely gone and I was ready to party with the rest of the boys.

Of course, there were other benefits as well. The increased flow of blood also improves the reaction time of signals travelling between the optic nerve and the brain, which gives a huge advantage to us pitchers who must spend hours reviewing the charts every day. At the start of the 2005 season, it took me 90 minutes to review the charts of the opposing team’s batters, but by season’s end, I’d reduced that to only 35 minutes.

And on top of all that, I noticed some on-field benefits. You’re probably wondering why so many pitchers have tested positive for steroids. All the papers say that steroids make you grow big and strong. They say that big muscular guys like Bonds and Giambi needed those steroids in order to hit lots of home runs. That’s established fact, right? I mean, everybody knows all about that stuff. But what about us? What about the relief pitchers who crave those big ninth inning strikeouts the way McGwire craved a ballpark full of flash bulbs every night? Well naturally, we can add a few MPH to our fastballs. Even after my migraines went away, I felt my pitching arm getting stronger. After a couple of months, I had boosted the velocity of my fastball from a middling 91 to a lightning quick 97. Soon, I went on a hot streak of sixteen straight scoreless appearances. I ached for the ball in every crucial late-inning situation, and the more the manager provided me with that fix, the more I was jonesing for it once the next 3-2 game came along. I told the coaches and players in the ‘pen that the sooner they got me in the game, the sooner we’d all be able to hit the bars. If someone else had started to warm up, they usually saw things my way and stepped aside.

Anyway, back to the ladies. After I grew these 19″ guns, the girls didn’t want to talk about short relief. They saw the muscles, and those muscles said “pro athlete” loud and clear. The muscles said “home runs” in a language these dewy-eyed farmers daughters could understand. And let me tell you, I became a jackhammer in the sack. Once upon a time, I used to receive the odd complaint about my performance but once I started with steroids I started batting 1.000. Except that the women I was sleeping with were way hotter than the ones I used to bang, so it was really like batting 2.000. I lost all my shyness around girls and was ready to do it anytime, anywhere. Nothing gets daddy’s little girl feeling naughtier than getting banged in a bathroom stall by a pro athlete while her unsuspecting boyfriend waits for her outside in the car. Before steroids, I never would have known about that. And that’s right, I didn’t care if they had boyfriends or husbands. I’m a ballplayer. You gotta flaunt that shit. One time I met this chick Betty and we did it in the back of her husband’s pickup truck. Her husband was driving the truck at the time. But I wasn’t worried about getting caught, not in the least. I didn’t have a care in the world. Even if he caught us, what was the guy gonna do, beat me up? Hells no. Yeah I did your wife, just grin and bear it, buddy boy. She had great tits too.

So as you can see, there was a lot of incentive for me to keep using drugs. But I’m not making excuses. I knew I was breaking the rules and rolling the dice with my career. I am profoundly sorry for deceiving the good fans of Fort Wayne as well as the beautiful ladies in all the towns throughout the Midwest League. I’m sorry I tricked you all into believing I was accomplishing my feats on nothing but mineral water and my own god-given talents. All I can hope for now is the forgiveness of my teammates, coaches, and of course you ladies and the rest of the fans.

Matthew Varner is a pitching prospect in the San Diego Padres organization. He led the Midwest League in saves in 2005. Earlier this week, he was one of five minor leaguers suspended for testing positive for steroids.

Don’t Mind New York’s State

Every year, people look at the first few weeks of the baseball season and overreact. There are lots of folks right now that are jumping on the Milwaukee Brewers bandwagon, just as there are lots of folks jumping off the Senators wagon. Anyone that knows baseball knows that these things aren’t going to stay this way. There are 162 games in a season, and lots of things can happen, but usually these things are what you can expect to happen before the season began. It’s like that story about the slumping .300 hitter – if he hits .260 before the All-Star break, then you know he’ll hit .340 after the All-Star break and end up at .300 like he usually does. It’s the way things work out.

When it comes to the New York Yankees, folks overreact more than they should. That’s because the Yankees are the dominant franchise in all of baseball. They are the team to beat, year in and year out. Even if you’re not a baseball fan, you know about the New York Yankees. And if you are a baseball fan, you’re either a fan of the Yankees, or a fan of a team that wants to beat the Yankees, or you’re just a fan of the game that knows about the Yankees. Every year, you can pencil them in for 90-100 wins and a trip to the playoffs, and you can guess they’ll make it to the World Series too.

George Steinbrenner makes sure the team is stocked with the best talent available, no matter what the cost. Winning is the key to success, and success is the key to winning. Every off season, if there’s a star veteran on the free agent market, you know the Yankees are going to go after them. That’s why the Yankees can afford to have a star player like Bernie Williams as their 4th OF and part of their DH platoon. Bernie could probably start in CF for a lot of teams. His speed isn’t what it was, though he is still a fast runner, and his arm’s been questionable at times, but Bernie brings a lot to the table and leaves it all on the field every time he goes out there.

The Yankees started the 2006 season on a tough stretch, going 2-4 against the Anaheim Angels and Oakland A’s, two teams that are in the playoff picture in the AL West. That stretch was tough going. The Yankees weren’t hitting, and when they were hitting, they weren’t pitching. But, against the surprising Kansas City Royals, the Yankees were able to right their ship and sweep their opening homestand, and are now only one game back of their rivals, the Boston Red Sox. This return to form is thanks in large part to the heart and soul of the Yankees, Derek Jeter.

There’s a reason I picked Jeter as my #1 pick in the Yard Work Fantasy Baseball Draft. People always underrate Jeter, and look at the things he can’t do. They say he’s overrated on defense and should be playing anywhere besides shortstop. They say he bunts too often. They say he’s not as clutch as most folks believe him to be. They say he’s cocky and a showoff and spoiled and nothing but a pretty face that likes to pump his fist a lot. And these folks always have numbers that are supposed to prove that they’re right. Fact is, people that doubt Jeter just aren’t looking at him the right way.

Derek Jeter is a fearless competitor, both in the field and at the plate. He has the heart of the champion, and when the game is on the line, is always there with the big hit or sacrifice, or the big defensive stop. When the Yankees needed a big hit in their home opener, there was Jeter hitting a 3-run homer off of Royals closer Ambiorix Burgos. These are things that regular baseball stats can’t measure, and never will. And that’s why I drafted Jeter with my #1 pick. He’s the guy you build a team around, whether that team is fake or real. Former MVP A-Rod might be the highest paid player in baseball, and former MVP Gary Sheffield might be one of the most dangerous on or off the field, and Cy Young winner Randy Johnson might be the scariest, but Jeter is the one that grabs the attention and imagination and hearts of fans. He’s part of possibly the best all-around infield in baseball, and he’s part of possibly the best all-around team in baseball. And you can’t measure that greatness with statistics.

While teams like Oakland and Cleveland put up impressive numbers in July and August, it’s teams like the Yankees that are playing for the World Series come playoff time. And while hot starters like Detroit’s Chris Shelton or Cincinnatti’s Adam Dunn are playing over their head right now and are bound to come back to earth hard, superstars like Derek Jeter are always playing over their heads time and again. That’s what makes these stars super. And Derek Jeter is what makes the Yankees super. And he’ll be the main reason why the Yankees will once again be one of the best teams in baseball.

Good Guy Repeat: In The Bag

Hawk here. Don’t think I was gonna let this place slide like a slide piece. Yeah, I got blog. So what? You folks’ve been good to me, so I’m gonna be good right back. Gotta do it ’cause it’s the right thing to do. Just like Wilford Brimley says. And he’s right.

In case you missed it – good guys won again yesterday. Got 2 wins on the season. Mark Buerhle on his way to a Cy Young, like he was last year. Crede with more clutch hits. Things are looking good. They’re in last place, but whatever. Those Royals, they’re scrappy. Don’t discount them too much, or they’ll beat you silly. Go Sox.

Folks might be worried that this season’ll be a letdown. After all, we’re defending world champs. 2005 was the Year Of The Sox. Can’t ever take that away. But you gotta lose once in a while. Losing makes the winning work. You can’t win without losing. You know what winning with no losing is? It’s nothing, that’s what.

It’s like what I told Deej while we were eating at Chili’s. (I got their Cajun Chicken Pasta. Good stuff.) It’s really philosophical. Gotta think about it. If a win happens without a loss, do you actually win? Deej was too busy stuffing Awesome Blossom into his yap to agree, but I told him what he was thinking. It’s no win. No win at all. Without losing, that is.

Sorry to go deep on you fine folks, but this is important stuff about baseball. People gotta understand. People gotta keep it in perspective. You know what other team started off 1-4? The 1998 Yankees. And you know how many games they won? A lot. Take it in stride, folks. This ain’t a sprint. This is a cross-country trip. Sit back and enjoy the ride.

You know who’s not worried about this? The good guys. GM Kenny Williams didn’t just sit back and wait for his ring. No, sir – he reloaded. Got a big portside bopper to balance out all that lethal rightie power in Thome. Got himself another solid starter in JV. And the best bullpen in baseball is back for another go, including Wide Load. Sorry to see Aaron head off to Cheesesteak Country, but we’re good for it. Got Brian Anderson slotted in between the best corners in baseball – Jermaine & Pods. Death to flying things? You know it.

Got the unsung MVP in AJ back behind the plate, calling strikes and getting in other teams’ heads. Joe Crede, the best all-around 3B in the game (yeah, I said it) is back with his clutch hits and clutch glove. Just like yesterday. Go Joe. And we got the best manager in all of baseball. Heck, in all of sport. The Wizard of Smallball is back in the South Side, and he’s ready for another World Series win. Even folks that don’t know baseball (hi, Jay) know what the deal is. Sox win this one going away. Sorry, Cleveland. Sorry, Detroit. Maybe another year. Or another division. But not this one. Grab some bench.

Ken Harrelson has served as an announcer for Chicago White Sox telecasts on WGN-TV since 1991.

Let a Hundred 3Bs Bloom

Hey there, sports fans! It’s me, Bob Uecker, chattin’ with you. Aren’t ya glad the 2006 season has started? I know I am. All that talk about steroids and revenue-sharing and ineffective cronyism among the elites that run baseball — hey, even if it’s true, who cares? Baseball is a great and wonderful game, and the very heart thrills this first week of April.

And isn’t it great that the Crew has started out with a three-game sweep of the Pirates? How about that, people? Truly, the glorious path unfolds before us like a ribbon in the sun; truly, the revolution has begun. Let them try to hold us back, to scoff at us now!

It is time to make history under our great leader, Ned Yost. His craggy visage masks the heart of a lion! When he sent Jeff Cirillo up to pinch-hit in that first game, do you think he did not remember the splendor of last year’s Opening Day, when Cirillo got the game-winning RBI? And did Cirillo not come through again? In the second game, who was it that sent up Gabe Gross, who homered to win the game in his first at-bat for the Crew? It was that same Ned Yost. And when Prince Fielder, youthful vigor shining in his eyes, came to the plate last night hitless in his first 11 at-bats, did Yost blink or yank him? No! He let him hit! And Fielder came through like the ancestors of old! Truly, Rookie of the Year is in the bag.

The pitching is superb, and that is without the people’s hero, Ben Sheets. Timely hitting has made up for some minor baserunning blunders. But, most importantly, the proletariat is behind this revolution! From the fatcat season ticket-holding cell-phone-gabbing lawyers that position themselves behind the plate drinking Leinenkugel Reds to the Buckethead Brigade, all the good and loyal citizens of the Badger State are united behind the Brewers. We will win, because we know that this inexorable blue wave is long-overdue. And we will win because we have good middle relief!

The Cardinals are old and sad. Their death-throes will be loud, as that is the way of tyrants, and we may lose a battle or two in the new Busch Stadium. But we will hold Miller Park with every toenail and drop of blood in our bodies. We know our cause is just and right, whereas they have Sidney. Ponson. In. Their. Rotation.

We already see Houston slipping down the ladder — wave goodbye to them as their ship sinks. Chicago puts up runs, but they are more like ruins, monuments to a system that no longer works. (Plus: Dusty.) There is no path for the Brewers but success. Any other outcome is inconceivable.

Some are asking about the third-base platoon. Instead, they should ask what they can do for their team! Our leader knows what he knows, and will inform us what is necessary. Jim Powell and I await our orders every day. Why cannot the chattering classes do the same?

But this is an era of openness, so I say unto you: Let a hundred 3Bs bloom! We have Corey Koskie against righties, Bill Hall vs. lefties and spelling Hardy and Weeks, Cirillo for pinchhitting and occasional days in the field, Corey Hart can pick a little out there as can Gross, Ryan Braun is knocking on the door in his first year in the minors, and so on. Our leader has a plan and it will be revealed in time. (Here’s a hint: there’s a reason Billy Hall’s contract hasn’t been extended yet.)

In the meantime, worry not about the future. Only look to each day’s game, inning by inning. Only revel in the achievement of an opening series sweep, and in my surreal stories about growing cans of chili in the backyard garden or how I hate echidnas, the filty little beasts!

Triumph, sweet triumph over our division rivals is in our grasp. The season has just 159 games to go. Set your faces to the sunset, see the plan behind the plan, and cheer on the revolution during this weekend’s three-game series against the Arizona Diamondbacks. See ya then!

Bob Uecker is a former major league catcher, and has starred in countless movies, television shows, and advertisements for beer and Hardware Hank. He also interviewed Andre the Giant in the 1988 Wrestlemania.

Turning Your Fantasies Into Realities in 2006!

anna and kris

I’ve never been so busy in my life! Since the last time I wrote here, Kris and I were traded to Baltimore and you can imagine the impact that had on our lives. Everything has been so crazy. I’ve spent so much time shuttling between cities and running my online poker business, there has barely been time to get the high hard one from my husband and look after the kids (no, not at the same time)! Kris has been obsessed with his work, spending day after day working with Leo Mazzone. Sure, it’s a great oppurtunity for him, but my oldest kid is nearly 13. She’s been blossoming nicely and Kris has barely been around to see it happen. But on the bright side, I think she’s gonna have DD’s just like her momma!

In light of all that, it’s no surprise that Kris and I are no longer together. I’m sure you’ve all heard the news by now. We made a New Year’s resolution to slow things down and make more time for each other, but it just hasn’t been working out. Ladies, if your husband promises to be more committed to your lovemaking but only finds the time to take you up the ass three times during the winter — it’s time to kick that man to the curb because he doesn’t truly care about your feelings. I can do better than that New York reject and his 4.25 career ERA. Hello boys — Anna is open for business once again!

That’s why I’m taking a deeper involvement in baseball this year. How could I resist spending more time watching cute men run around in tight pants for three hours a day? American players — hot! Japanese and Korean players — a bit too skinny for me, but still really hot! And the Latino players are tanned, toned, and unlike their Mexican counterparts, they’re in working in our country legally. They bring extra money into our country and help grow the economy instead of taking money out of the pockets of ordinary Americans who need it. So hot!!! That’s why I jumped at the chance to join the Yard Work Fantasy Baseball league. If you’ve read some of my earlier columns, then you know I love baseball almost as much as I love fantasies, so how could I pass up the oppurtunity?

Sorry to everyone who joined the league hoping to chat with me online on draft day. C’mon boys, you know I have better things to do than spend two hours of my Saturday chatting with a bunch of computer geeks! I gave my draft rankings to my family’s babysitter and let her handle things for me. Julie’s such a sweetie — all the cool moms in our neighborhood call her a Cute Lolita In Training (I’ll leave it to you to put together the acronym)! She reminds me a lot of me when I was her age. When I was fifteen it was my dream to marry a rich man but she says she wants to be a TV journalist when she finishes school. Those crazy kids! Well, the boys all want to get in her pants so I’d say that’s half the battle won right there!

As you might have guessed, my draft strategy involved drafting some of my favorite cuties! I still love New York and the Mets so I picked up some of their players and ex-players. Babyfaced Grady Sizemore is solely responsible for selling out stadiums in Cleveland and if you’ve ever been to that shithole of a city then you know that’s not an easy thing to do! Naturally I had to have him. I have a thing for pint-sized cuties like David Eckstein and Jamey Carroll because they remind me of the pathetic boys who used to drool over me when I was in high school. Today, those geeky awkward types are beating their meat while downloading my pictures off the internet — it’s OK, guys, you don’t have to be ashamed to admit it! These boys think they have a shot with me, but of course they don’t. I love to tease though so I wanted them on my team too. And sometimes a girl likes to latch onto those big teddy bear types as well, so I picked up players like Bobby Jenks and Jim Thome.

I couldn’t get every player I wanted, largely thanks to this Morganna bitch who obviously got word of my strategy beforehand and decided to fuck with my business. Listen babe, there’s only room for one curvaceous alpha female on Yard Work, and that’s ME. You’d better hope we don’t run into each other one day at the ballpark, that’s all I’m saying. I’ll slap you so hard, you’ll end up with your face in one zip code and your tits in another.

My final words are directed to you, soon-to-be-ex-hubby dearest. You were my top pick. You were my top priority because I might own only 50% of you in real life, but online, I wanted to make sure I owned the full 100%. You’ll play when I feel like playing you, and your ass will ride the bench when I say the words. Don’t think I’m serious? Try me.

Yard Work Fantasy League: Before the Draft.

Spart-Daddy here. Listen, I asked some of the other people in the league to give me a brief write-up of who they are and how they plan to draft on Saturday morning. (We will also have a special secret guest or two but I am not going to tell you because that will make you shiver with antici……pation. (10 Spart-points if you get that.) Here are some of their (sadly, lame) entries.

Hee Seop Choi (TEAM: The Hee Has Hit Them)

Personal Statement: I hope to return the eyes to teamwork and the strike zone this year for real and for fake!

Pre-draft strategy: There are many worthy players – the brothers I never knew I would ever want – that are played for unworthiness every year by managers both fired and soon-to-be-fired.  I hope to give them – the players, not the managers – a home on my bench, and a chance to eat at home plate, so that they may stand up and count towards those statistics that mean something, if only to me in lieu of themselves.  I am sure that winning will be that much easier this way, instead of losing!

Tedd Getman (TEAM: Unicorns) CONTEST WINNER!

Personal statement:I am almost always drunk, but I am only twenty two so it is okay.

Pre-draft strategy: I will be unable to take part in the live draft but my pre draft strategy is as follows. Pre-rank guys who hit dingers and get on base a ton very highly.  In regards to pitching draft guys who throw a ton of strike outs and very few walks. If they win games too that is a plus. Go Twins.

Anna Ex-Benson (TEAM: I Love Fastballs!)

Personal statement: I am a strong independent woman who loves her country and speaks her mind. Apparently, some people, including so-called “men” who now pitch for a last-place team in the murder capital of the U.S., can’t deal with that. But that doesn’t matter, as my vengeance will be painful and protracted. Also, I have the best rack here, and if I want to show that in an adorable Sexy Mrs. Claus costume, that is my god-given right.

Pre-draft strategy: Right now, it involves champagne, lobster, and prescription medication. If I wake up in time, I will also check out my “little black book” under the “best asses in uni” category. The room is spinnnign a little bi.t I donot feel so well

Gerard Cosloy (TEAM: Gyroballed)

Personal statement: former field hockey columnist for a Massachusetts penny saver, hoping to emulate the recent work of ‘Fantasyland”s Sam Walker.  My parent company, Cumbucket Media, has bankrolled this endeavor.  Have hired a research assistant — he doesn’t know dick about baseball but seems very good at mowing the lawn.

Pre-draft strategy:  to combine the teachings of Sun Tzu, John Benson, Neil Strauss and M. Scott Peck (in that order) — a powerful, Greg Anderson-esque cocktail that will have my opponents looking down on me with respect, if not fear.

Baseball Mike (TEAM: The LA Angels of Chicago) CONTEST WINNER!

Personal statement: Baseball Mike lives along the Chicago River and cultivates his collection of frozen sperm from Major League ballplayers by night.

Pre-draft strategy: Baseball Mike’s pre-draft regimen commences with 40 days of fasting. This period of introspection is marked by intense research using the standard texts: The Bill James Handbook, Baseball Prospectus, the Torah, Ron Shandler’s Baseball Forecaster, and the Necronomicon by the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred. Mike’s efforts culminate in a seven day mock draft in which he sits around a table with wicker dummies representing his competing players. After all possible drafting possibilities are exhausted, Mike marks the end of the mock draft with “high tea,” a sort of quasi meal between lunch and dinner that’s enjoyed with tea (of course) and usually some sort of biscuit, or pastry. It’s very common in England but has yet to catch on in Chicago.

As the league’s draft approaches, Mike will compile a document ranking players in tiers, aiming to balance position scarcity with category scarcity. He will probably do this at his day job. He looks for value, potential break-outs and rebounding players, but he wouldn’t touch Mike Lowell with a ten-foot pole. He has been known to take a chance with a rookie or a prospect.

Rickey Henderson (TEAM: PAY RICKEY)

Personal statement: Rickey Henderson is the greatest leadoff man of all time.

Pre-draft strategy: Rickey Henderson is far too important and busy to complete this form.

Darren “Dutch” Daulton (TEAM: MetaPhys-Ed) CONTEST WINNER!

Personal statement:

Views are infinite

Perspective is my guide now

Single, drunk and free

Pre-draft strategy: Most of my competitors are analyzing players’ historical performances right about now. Why, I don’t know. This season is happening in the future, and last year or the year before is about as relevant as last week’s newspaper.

I will use a combination of astrology charts, psychedelic visions and dream analysis to understand how this season is going to unfold. This Sabrmetrics nonsense is the most dangerous distraction since The Gods invented the BMW. Sacred Geometry, co-incidental numerical occurrences and the harmonies and dis-harmonies in players’ names (also known as advanced numerology) will guide “Meta Phys-Ed” to victory. Nama-ste.

Lew Ford (TEAM: Sudoku Lew)
Personal statement: I play baseball for the Minnesota Twins. I enjoy mind puzzlers, brain teasers, and the movie Pi. I also really like role-playing games, but not as much as Curt Schilling, roffle.

Pre-draft strategy: I’m kind of in the middle of getting ready for the season, so I haven’t had much time to prepare for this draft. But I already have like eight fantasy teams, so I’ll just go with my gut. Well, not technically with my gut, that would be gross.

Shawn Lee (TEAM: Sugar Boogers) CONTEST WINNER
Personal statement:Reggie’s 3 HRs turned my 8-year old self into a lifelong Yankee fan. Now I’m the straw that stirs the drink.

Pre-draft strategy:Read Hee Seop’s “Where is the Love For…” columns. Then read them again.

Morganna, the Kissing Bandit (TEAM: The Big Kissers)
Personal statement: M-Wah!

Pre-draft strategy: Kissable corner infielders first (closer to the seats, see?) then other players, ranked on smoochability (well, the first 150 or so anyway). What is this ‘position scarcity’ people speak of?

Spartacus (TEAM: The Abe PECOTAs)
Personal statement: I got a rocket in my pocket, a mojo hand encrusted with pimp rings, and a cobra snake for a necktie.

Pre-draft strategy: To figure out a way to get all my competitors’ pre-draft strategies. I JUST SCHOOLED ALL Y’ALL. And if you think I’m giving up my hard-earned knowledge, then you got lime in yr coconut.

 

Kabir’s Prognostications for 2006.

In the time of turmoil,
When no one knows where to turn,
Kabir says, Trust your heart, true fan,
On-base percentage, and long relief.

While lawmakers fret about the past,
Be like Mark McGwire, refuse to talk about it.
How can one profit from the past?
Unless one is Adrian Beltre, one cannot.

The AL West is clear to me:
Oakland shines like an oil slick in the Bay.
The Rangers and Angels will disappoint,
Seattle will surprise many people.

Expect the White Sox to repeat,
Despite their precarious bullpen.
Cleveland will hit a gang but will fade again,
Kabir says, and next year for Twins and Tigers.

Rising like an azure-breasted warrior,
Look for Toronto’s resurgence in the East.
The Red Sox will have a tough time,
The Yankees are ready for the qotir*.

In the league I love the best,
Turn attention to the West.
There, we see a new day for the Dodgers,
With San Francisco finishing .500.

The Cardinals will suffer a scare
When the Carpenter gets hurt in June;
Brewers and Cubs will make a charge,
September will be very exciting.

Loud music will drown all Queens
When the Mets finally win their division.
Atlantis** will long rue the day
It let Mazzone fly the coop.

As for the eventual championship,
Kabir says, the gaze is hazy.
We will know more soon enough.
Why the future? Why not the here and now?

Go to games and root for favorites!
Scan the Web for boxscores galore!
But never forget that one red flower
Means more than Zach Duke’s BABIP.***

*Qotir = A kind of ceremonial fork used during feast times. “Ready for the qotir” was a common phrase meaning “done.”

**Atlantis = Atlanta. Kabir often made this mistake…but was it really a mistake?

***Scholars have not decided the meaning of “one red flower.” This might be a reference to the poppy, and therefore opium; it might have sexual significance, or be a metaphor for menstrual activity; it might also refer to the third eye, to the inner mounting flame of devotion, or any number of spiritual phenomena. It might just be some red flower.

Kabir was a 15th century Indian mystic and seer, and a huge fan of the National League. His baseball poetry is available in a new translation by Vijay Chaganta.