Picks

Seattle Mariners: Like the reformed Drifters dealing one spinning schlep for Brian McKnight and Babyface, the eMo’s hoodie-winked inexplicable press doll Sabean into dealing two might-bes (Foppert, Torrealba) for one never-was-and-never-will-be (ironically, Winn) (que sera, sera). Bill Bavasi finally overcomes “Stand” Pat Gillick’s deadline shivers, proclaiming “next year is next year.” Wadda lug. A

Texas Rangers: Accidentally shooting yrself in the face and living = this Ranger “win.” With Chan Ho sally-leaguing forth to Pod Rays, Hershiser finally catches Z’s while his blue man group tumbles into a K-hole. There are worse fates. B+

Tampa Bay Devil Rays: Thousands of CDs assault the Voice mailroom weekly, and even Jann Wenner would struggle to like most of ’em (half these dudes have even sailed his boat!). The one-sheets proclaim “innovation” and “uniqueness,” making CDs today’s junk bonds — Michael Milken, come on down, you are forgiven! Fuckapresskit: unmarked CDs in blank cases float the Xgau boat, and Tampa GM Chuck LaMar feels it, too. Why try when 50 garbled words in Punk Planet‘s the best-case-scenario? So Chuck (not you, Eddy — go back to parsing that Honky Toast couplet) kept Baez and Huff, knowing they suck, his team sucks, Tampa sucks. Honesty — can you believe it? (Hey Pam over at Girlie: hire Chuck, like, now!) B-

Duds

Colorado Rockies: Carlos Boozer pulls the wool on an assholic blind man and it’s Chinese Democracy; the Red Sox gyp a Dave Matthews fan and it’s Bill Wyman’s Rhythm Kings. Though Rockie GM O’Dowd likely chalks it up to DMB bias (Dave’s African, you see?), us reality-based folks call it justice: O’Dowd lets the racist Helton hang around (listen for the whispers and you’ll hear em, for serious) and crashes his roster into a ridge every year and then claims innocence. He doesn’t even deserve 0-162. F

San Diego Padres: 2005’s NL West winner should get Hilary Rodham Clinton’s Grammy. The Pads shuffled and reshuffled their sorry deck hoping for pocket rockets but still see only 2-7, 3-8 and the occasional 10-4 suited. Can 300 catchers and one submariner really make them better? GM/”good guy” Kevin Towers better don one of those fascist camo unis when the wheels pop off. D-

Robert Christgau, the Dean of American Rock Criticism, writes for the Village Voice.