Hello again, readers of the faith! As you have witnessed without a doubt, my countrymen have turned tables 360 degrees against the mighty high American squadron. The pivot point was brought into focus as I turned on a not-so mighty pitch wheeled into my house, appropriately, by now-Earthbound Astro Dan Wheeler. Not that I am one to toot my own crow. Here is E$PN to give voice to my bird! Yes, Mr. Martinez, you made the proper call, if you want the call to be answered inside the house and kill you until you are dead! Go on and suck on the dry bitterness that comes with your childish excuses! Please, Mr. Jeter & Mr. Utley, continue to wear with shame those opportunistic boots that look so good upon your feet of clay! But I abstain. In all honesty, were you readers not calling for my curtain to open anew, I would be happy within the content of my own character, and without the three-ring stain of being in Dodger camp on my collar.

Which is what I mean to say in the following: the walk that Mr. Frank McCourt is currently talking (steps here) is bound to fork into oncoming traffic that is thinking green more than blue. As if enough ink hasn’t been bled regarding the spending habits of previous purse holders. Ah, but I forgot that the money shot far and wide these past few months has come into contact with a respectable cast of purported characters. Players that bring years of experience and injury to Mr. Tommy Lasorda’s cheating heart. (Not that I want to strum Nomar’s harp more than I have, but if his current spring train is any type of sign, it is that he has taken to my position like a fish takes to dry land.)

In regards to the newly refurbished front office, Mr. McCourt has furnished the following explanation: “It’s very important our general manager and manager are on the same page.” Perhaps this is a bear whose fur is matted down by the heavy burden of truth. But, in my meager time blocking around, it seems that reading from the same book is just swallowing more eye candy if the readers are working at or below the average reading level. This isn’t to scrub either Mr. DePodesta or Mr. Tracy clean of any absolute fault; there have been times when both men have stooped to subterranean levels of competence. But I deign to offer my kudos on Mr. McCourt’s clubhouse feng shui until this configuration aligns properly with a successful campaign.

And that is all that time will allow for me – my country needs to hone its hunger for new oppositional meat, and I also need to prepare for a fantastical draft regarding this sport which I actually play. It is within this conglomeration of writers and thinkers that I shall be picking and choosing my false allies, and (hopefully) emerging atop the slagheap of statistical carnage victorious! Please keep standing for more information! Perhaps we shall see ourselves against ourselves in this azure arena of virtual virtue together!