Morning: 3 Days of Hell

1) Should have seen this coming...

Day 1, Sunday: AJ pitching in Fenway, where he's always terrible.
Day 2, Monday: Sergio Mitre taking Andy Pettitte's start in Detroit.
Day 3, Tuesday: Javy Vazquez. Enough said.

It lined up nicely for our first 3-loss stretch of the season, and we're now 2/3 of the way there. Ugly baseball by Yankee standards.

2) Robbie on the Slide

After peaking at .407 on April 29th and finishing the month at .400, he's 8 for his last 34, batting .235 for May with only two extra base hits. These slumps are gonna happen, but it'd be nice if they didn't happen right when Teixeira and A-Rod are heating up in front of him. The clutch-birds are about to start chattering, too: he's .267 with 2 outs and runners in scoring position, a traditional weak point. The sample size is still small at 18 plate appearances, but it can grow in a hurry. He may be on the cusp of emerging from the slump, with 4 singles in the last 3 games, but it'd be nice to see him drive the ball again.

3) Boone Logan stinks

I don't care if he can hit 97. Send him down, Joe. 11 baserunners in 5 innings of action does not a professional pitcher make. And the four-pitch walks are starting to drive me really crazy.

4) We Need Grandy

Randy Winn and Marcus Thames are absolutely awful in left field. You might has well just have Gardner stand in left-center and cover both fields. Thames is useful as a DH against lefties, but should never be allowed to wear a glove, and Winn should be on the first bus to Little Rock, or wherever the Yanks keep their sub-single-A minor league franchise. Granderson going down kills our outfield defense. Swisher and the left field platoon have no range, and Gardner is all by himself in center.

Also, Winn had a chance to take out Victor Martinez on a play at the plate Saturday, and instead made a weak-ass slide and was tagged out. And something about the way he looks makes me angry. I can't explain it, but see if you agree:


5) Cervelli needs to be catcher until he goes cold

That way, Posada can DH, save his legs, and contribue with the bat. And we'll actually have a chance to throw a baserunner out once in a while.

Okay, enough Yankee stuff. Miguel Cabrera will hit 4 home runs tonight and we'll lose 11-8. Then it's Hughes time and we can all relax.

On to something more important: ENGLAND BASHING. We're almost exactly one month away from...

JUNE 12

WORLD CUP

UNITED STATES VS. ENGLAND

That's a painting of Cornwallis surrendering the last time the Brits tried to mess with our shit. At the bottom of this post back in December, I promised that I'd start taking the fight to England early and often. It kinda fell by the wayside; Duke won a national title, if you hadn't heard. But it's time to get back in the saddle. Here are 10 reasons that England sucks:

1) All their people have to constantly say these clever one-liners after they make a point. Every time you meet an English dude, he's always like "Actually, I believe the last time the British had a set-to with the Yanks was in 1812." But that's not the end of it. Then they sip their tea, give you a long look, and go: "QED, I believe." And you have to sit there and let them smirk at you, because you're in their parlour room. It's maddening.

2) They don't fight fair. Everyone knows that if you get in a street tussle with an English guy, he's going to have a watch that shoots bobby pins or something. You'll have him pinned to the ground, and he'll go "I believe I don't give up," and all the sudden the buttons on his shirt spray acid on your skin.

3) They all walk with canes. But they don't even twirl them around in fancy ways like a pimp, they just totter around like a geriatric. The main cool thing in England is seeming like you're 80 years old.

4) They say things like "capital!" and "topping!" whenever a new dictionary edition comes out, and they get all short of breath at opera houses. But if something funny happens, like a person getting stuck in a tar patch or an animal walking on its hindlegs, they blush and mutter and start fiddling with their pockets.

5) They're all obsessed with stamps and the smell of tweed. It's a common rite of passage for young women to make their own 'tweed lamps' and show them off at community gatherings on St. Elspeth's Day.

6) They're so reserved and have such small penises that their locker rooms don't even have group showers. But at the same time, the men send each other roses on the 15th of every month.

7) The most beloved athlete in the country is a guy who breeds tea leaves. His name is Everett Stevenson Everett, and he stirred up controversy in 2007 when he batted his eyes at a poster of Rene Zellwegger. Some fans still have not forgiven him.

8) You can always tell who the poor people are because they can't balance a pipe on their mustache.

9) It's considered shameful to appear at masquerades or to accidentally curtsy in the presence of a Catholic.

10) The main premise of most of their comedies is that the main character thinks it's normal to drive a car backwards through town, and when the cops chase him he always thinks they're going the wrong way since the cop car is facing him, and they both start beeping at each other until the main character backs into a croquet game and the guy about to hit the ball goes "that's one way to strike a wicket!" and grins at the camera while the song "Cardigans and Daffodils" plays.

BEAT ENGLAND!

Two Fake Athletes, and a Real One Who Sucks

1. I have to lead off with Kenny Strasser, who also goes by K-Strass and Kenny Strassburg. He's been touring the Wisconsin morning show circuit claiming to be a yo-yo champion who visits schools to teach kids about "going green" in a fun way.


I'm going to spoil the surprise: it's a hoax. But what a friggin' hoax. I hope it means something when I say that this article is the funniest thing I've read in a very long time. I highly recommend reading the entire thing, but here are a few of my favorite excerpts:

"He got us," said Bridget Blevins, the station's news director. "I hate that we got duped."

And how good was he with the yo-yo, a skill Strasser has said made him a champion? "He did some really lame things. He hit himself in the face and the groin with his yo-yo," Blevins said.

and

In each case, producers at the television stations received an e-mail from Joe Guehrke, saying he represented Strasser and ZimZam Yo-Yo, "the world's first 'green'" nonprofit toymaker.

The e-mail solicitation stated that Strasser was a runner-up for Rookie of the Year in 1995, grand champion at the Pensacola Regional and was nominated for the Walt Greenberg Award in 2000.

There is no Walt Greenberg Award in yo-yo, and there is no evidence Pensacola ever hosted a yo-yo tournament or that Strasser won a rookie of the year award.

and

In one particularly bizarre segment on WSAW's "Sunrise 7" show in Wausau on April 20, Strasser told interviewer Amy Pflugshaupt that he is just a 35-year-old kid at heart. "I don't have a girlfriend, don't want one. My parents, they live in Denver, they just got divorced. My dad is now in Oshkosh. . . . I have a brother in Portland who I don't get along with very well because of his wife."

and

At WISC in Madison, Strasser was booked and ready to go on "News 3 This Morning." But things took a strange turn when Strasser said on the air, "Do you want to hear a scary story?"

Colin Benedict, the station's news director, said the anchors were confused. They thought a yo-yo champion was supposed to be on.

Instead, Strasser started talking about his personal story of alcohol and drugs.

And the yo-yo tricks? Benedict said Strasser tried one but the yo-yo fell apart and onto the studio floor.

This morning, Deadspin gathered the three known videos into one place. You can watch them here. They're fucking hysterical. In particular, you don't want to miss the second one where he unleases the helicopter move. Every time I think about this story, I start giggling like a demented person.

2. Rojo Johnson

The Venezuelan fireballer made a minor league appearance last week, and was ejected after only one pitch.

This is undoubtedly meant to promote the latest horrible movie from Adam McKay, but the clip made me laugh. As did the name 'Rojo Johnson.'

3. Josh Beckett


This guy is the largest douche in baseball. You'll say I'm biased because I'm a Yankees fan, to which I respond: wrong. I like and respect a lot of Red Sox players. Youkilis, Pedroia, Lester, and V-Mart, to name four. But Beckett is a snarling loser and a horrible human.

Friday night, after we started to destroy him in the 6th inning, he hit Robinson Cano. He threw at Cervelli's head. He hit Jeter in the back. And, despite FOX blowhard Tim McCarver defending him for five hours straight on Saturday, every single one was intentional. Someone with impeccable control doesn't lose it that quickly, to that degree. "Oh, he would never hit someone on purpose with the bases loaded!" Wrong. Jeter's at-bat came after a Randy Winn single, which had to piss Beckett off more than anything. The game was already over. Plus, we know Beckett is a petulant child who likes to smirk and pout when things are going south.

Did you see CC's retaliation pitch on Pedroia? It was a fastball aimed right for his derriere. That's how you hit someone if it absolutely has to be done. You don't start targeting their upper back and legs, where they can be hurt. God, Beckett is such a piece of shit. And because he doesn't have to bat, he can continue to do whatever he wants without fear of retribution. "But his teammates will feel the results!" you say. Yes, but is JB the kind of guy who gives a fuck whether or not Pedroia or Youk gets hit? Doubtful.

The worst part is, this is how he's dealing with the twilight of his career. He's not the same dominant pitcher he was in '07, and he never will be again. He's turned in 2 good starts out of 7 so far, and his ERA is 7.46. But instead of trying to regain his prowess with anything like grace, he acts like a baby and starts throwing at Yankees. He's a classless bum, and he always has been. In the next couple years, we're going to start seeing Beckett for who he really is.

Here are 5 'What's the Difference?' jokes about Josh Beckett.

-What's the difference between Josh Beckett and me, right as I'm about to get in the shower after a long day of rolling around in mud?

Josh Beckett is already washed up.

-What's the difference between Josh Beckett and Ben Roethlisberger?

Roethlisberger has a gray penis, while Beckett is just an aging dick.

-What's the difference between Josh Beckett and the Grand Canyon?

The Grand Canyon is a massive ditch.

-What's the difference between Josh Beckett's hand and his ass?

He can only fit one baseball in his hand.

-What's the difference between Josh Beckett and Conferedate General Robert E. Lee?

They both lost to the Yankees, but at least Lee wasn't a total MOTHERF*$%ING F*&#HEAD SH*#BIRD C*%&BAG B*&$#!.

Also, Lee never wore a stupid hemp necklace. That we know of.

Morning: Dallas Braden as Heroic Figure

I woke up this morning, and it still happened. Two days after writing a long post titled "Dallas Braden as Tragic Figure" (and thanks to Deadspin for linking, by the way), the Stockton son of a bitch threw the 19th perfect game in major league history.


Un-be-fucking-lievable. And he did it in front of his grandmother on Mother's Day, after his own mom passed in 2001 of melanoma when Braden was a high school senior. In the picture above, he's kissing his mother's wedding ring while he hugs his grandmother. You can watch the video of all 27 outs, and his celebration with his teammates and grandma, here. Pretty awesome, pretty touching.

Of course, A-Rod could not be left out of this latest development. First, Braden's grandma unleashed this quote: "Stick it, A-Rod." It was made in jest, apparently. Then, reports came in from the visitor's locker room in Fenway:

As Braden celebrated the feat, Sunday night's Yankee starter, A.J. Burnett, was alone in the Fenway clubhouse and watched Braden on TV. As Braden hugged Lindsey, Burnett said out loud, to no one in particular, "Grandma, don't cross my mound."

For his part A-Rod kept it low-key:

On Sunday, Rodriguez, speaking to reporters before the Yankees' game in Boston, had only praise for Braden. Asked about Braden's perfect game, Rodriguez said, "I've learned in my career it is much better to be recognized for all the great things you do on the field. Good for him, he threw a perfect game. And better yet, he beat the Rays."

When told that the grandmother told him to "stick it," A-Rod had a classic one-word response: "Uncle."

Braden didn't mention A-Rod in his postgame comments, and wouldn't take the bait from reporters. Not surprising, considering he probably wanted to focus on his own accomplishment, and considering As GM Billy Beane nipped that shit in the bud after Braden's latest outburst.

Beane, who was on a scouting trip in Mississippi on Friday, ended Braden's publicity tour in a brief but emphatic phone call with his starter. Reached later on, Beane said, “The player has been spoken to, and hopefully the matter should be over.”

Last thing, then I'm done with Dallas Braden until he comes to Yankee Stadium or uses his 87mph heater to throw another perfect game: before this happened, it was nice how the Yanks stepped up to defend their star. Klapisch, in the linked article, gave a couple examples and then summed up the new clubhouse attitude among the Bombers.

Other Yankees, however, took up the fight for the third baseman.

“He's a clown,” CC Sabathia said of Braden. “Guy says he's from the 2-0-9, what the [bleep] is that? That's where I'm from and I don't know what he's talking about. Two-oh-nine. He needs to just calm down - put that in the paper. That's just tired.”

“I don't know why he keeps bringing it up,” said Derek Jeter. “Go ask him, because I have no idea why he's talking about it again.”

“Braden is wrong and Alex is right,” said general manager Brian Cashman. “The more Dallas talks about it, the sillier he looks.”

Indeed, Braden's comments smacked of a player who'd fallen in love with his fleeting celebrity, which infuriated A's officials.

...

The Yankees are sending an unmistakable message to the industry's A-Rod haters: It's no longer open season on No. 13. The days of the Red Sox trashing A-Rod, as they did in 2005, are over. If you're looking to provoke Rodriguez, as Braden clearly did, chances are you'll get the entire roster's response.

This kind of massive defense would never have happened under Torre, and is yet another reason why the Yanks are fortunate to have his tenure in the rearview mirror.

By the way, I must have very shitty friends, because only ONE person alerted me to the possible perfect game. And he did it on g-chat, so I didn't get the notice until it had already happened. This is inexcusable. This has happened 19 times in like 130 years. If there's a perfect game possibility going into the 8th, YOU TELL ME. YOU FUCKING TELL ME.

Okay, so, guess what? The Yankees played Boston this weekend, and won two of three. Fascinating, right?

The big story for me is Josh Beckett, but I'm going to have to get into that a bit later. Also, the umpire on Saturday called for a rain delay when Sabathia was one strike away from finishing the 5th inning and becoming eligible for the win. That's a rough tomato right there.

On a semi-related note, my girlfriend has a newfound love: keeping the scorebook for Yankee games. Before she met me, sports were not on her radar. In fact, I don't think she'd ever watched a full event in her life before last July. She still can't get into football* or basketball, but for some (awesome) reason, she loves baseball. About a month ago, she asked me to buy her a scorebook. I thought it was a joke, and then I thought it would be a fleeting hobby at best, but so far she's averaged at least 2-3 games per week. Kind of amazing.

*The only time she musters any response to football is when a QB kneels at the end of a game to run out the clock. She considers that really, really unfair.

The few friends who have seen this book around the apartment assume that it's another example of me taking sports too seriously. When I tell them it belongs to the girlfriend, they become immediately convinced that I'm some kind of horribly controlling boyfriend who makes her do it against her will. Not the case. I did tell her once that if she proves herself as a real Yankee fan, I'd buy her a Teixeira jersey (so far, she only has the t-shirt), but this goes beyond normal fandom.

However, she also falls asleep by 10:00 most nights, and rarely makes it through a long night game. So when she found out that a pitcher needs 5 innings to be eligible for a win, she decided that a bookkeeper only has to make it through the 5th for the game to be "offically scored." Last night, ESPN aired the Sox-Yanks game, and it didn't start until 8:15. By the 5th inning of a very slow night, she was getting drowsy. Watching her struggle to finish the job through Boston's offensive explosion, pitching changes, and interminable foul balls was really something. She goes so far as to keep balls and strikes, and in the moments when she began to nod off, she'd come to with a start and ask me for the count. It was high drama seeing if she'd persevere until the last out (of the 5th). She made it, but it wasn't easy. Toward the end, when I started heckling her that she couldn't stay awake, she gave me a sleepy look and said "I'm earning my jersey."

Awwwww!**

**She still hasn't earned a jersey. That carrot is gonna dangle for a good long while.

More about the Sox series later.

Morning: Dallas Braden as Tragic Figure

There was no game last night, but that doesn't mean there was no news. Dallas Braden, the pitcher who took severe umbrage when A-Rod walked across his mound, has escalated the war of words. In that link, scroll down to #2 and you can read the best quotes from Braden's post-game interview. There are some dandies, and on its face it seems like quite the over-reaction.

Yesterday, being interviewed by local reporter Mychael Urban, he took things a step further. You can watch the interview below.



The three significant quotes:

*When asked if his words about repercussions meant that he'd settle things with "knuckles," Braden had this to say:

Quote 1: "Well, I mean that's pretty much the long and short of it.

"On a serious note, obviously there's things that are going to have to happen just out of respect for my teammates, out of respect for the game," Braden added. "I think he's probably garnered a new respect for the unwritten rules and people who hold them close to their game."

*After being confronted yet again with A-Rod's crack about being surprised to hear complaints from someone with so few wins, Braden had a rejoinder:

Quote 2: "There's two ways that I can comment on that, and I'll give you both of them," Braden offered. "One, I was always told if you give a fool enough rope, he'll hang himself, and with those comments, he had all the rope he needed. Two, I didn't know there was a criteria in order to compete against A-Rod. I didn't know that."

*Last, he went on to insult A-Rod some more.

Quote 3: "He's an individualistic player. He plays for the name on the back of the jersey, not the front. I don't know if he's noticed, but he doesn't have a name on the back over there so he should play for the name on the front."

So. That's an intense little development. The knee-jerk reaction is as follows: Braden is a jerk and an idiot who takes things farrrrr too seriously, and just threatened a player unnecessarily.

But strangely enough, my lingering reaction is to feel sorry for him. Here's why:

1) I don't think Braden is stupid. I think he's prideful, and more than a little insecure. You can notice the latter in small ways, like the way he keeps his lips closed when he's not speaking, and holds them rigid when he is, in order to hide his bad teeth. And the pride is evident. Listen to how he talks about the '2-0-9,' and the way he identifies with a background of grit and toughness.

To Braden, A-Rod is royalty, while he's a working class guy whose struggle to succeed started long ago and will probably never end. I honestly believe that A-Rod was off in his own little world when he jogged across the mound. I don't think it was intentional, and I'm convinced he had no idea what he was doing. It was as simple as taking the shortest distance between two points. A-Rod is dumb, but he's not malicious.

To Braden, though, that little trot was the equivalent of a sneering prince in a velvet-lined carriage spitting on a beggar as he rode through the streets. It was an unforgivable insult that had everything to do with class. When A-Rod felt backed into a corner by the media and unleashed his "so few wins" quote, it obviously did not help; in fact, it fed directly into the narrative that Braden had concocted.

2) That interviewer, Mychael Urban, is a manipulative creep.

His performance is masterful. I've watched it four times now, and Urban keeps getting better every time. Notice how he starts things off, by saying "I was on the air the day it happened, and I said 'I just fell in love with Dallas all over again.'" Urban knows that the best way to ingratiate himself with an insecure person is through flattery. Then he talks about his own pitching days, and says he would have done the exact same thing. In other words, "I'm just like you."

And Braden isn't smart enough to see that no, Urban is not just like him. Urban is a media vulture like all media vultures, even if he used to play baseball, and even if he speaks with a twang. But in less than ten seconds, the CSN correspondent has used flattery and validation, and already Braden is smiling and nodding, and feels at ease. Then Urban goes for the kill:

"After the game, when you said there would be repercussions- and I don't want to put words in your mouth- but I said, where Dallas comes from, the 2-0-9, they don't settle things with message pitches. They settle them with knuckles. Is that what you were talking about?"

Unbelievable. Let's count the ways Urban succeeds.

A) He phrases the idea of fighting (which, it needs to be said, Braden has never mentioned, and which Urban invented out of thin air) as his own. Like, "here's my idea, is that what you meant?" Agree with it or not, he's saying, but it certainly wouldn't be unreasonable if that's what you meant. It's a tactic designed to ease Braden into a controversial position he never advocated.

B) He appeals to Dallas' pride in his upbringing, even referencing 'the 2-0-9' like it's a badge of honor, which is something that Braden clearly believes.

C) He projects toughness and pride onto the pitcher. "They don't settle things with message pitches." He knows exactly what makes Braden tick, and he's willing to exploit it.

Poor Dallas falls for it hook, line, and sinker. When Urban finishes his "message pitches" line, Braden winces in agreement. And after "they settle them with knuckles," Braden nods vigorously and smiles. The result? He delivers the money quote, #1 above. "That's pretty much the long and short of it."

And a day later, the video is everywhere, the Daily News is implying that Braden is going to fight A-Rod, and Mychael Urban's name is ubiquitous. All because he led a vulnerable pitcher by the nose, using his own insecurities and pride against him. The sad part is, Braden still probably doesn't know it. He probably thinks Urban is his friend, and when people watch that video and think of him as an idiot and a rube, he'll blame it on them, and become more insecure, and more prideful, and more prone to being exploited by the likes of Urban. "I think you're right," says Braden at the end of his quote. "We don't do much talking in the 2-0-9."

He should have just said "I'm your puppet, baby. Make me sing."

Urban moves on to A-Rod, knowing his fish has taken the bait. He points out that the third baseman claims to never have heard that unwritten rule. "About not walking across the other guy's island...and that's what it is, right? It's your island. Stay off my island!"

Again, Braden is nodding emphatically. "That's right," he says twice. It's sad, because he thinks he's defending himself, and he thinks Urban is the ally who's helping him clear his name, when the exact opposite is true. Urban goes on to recite A-Rod's quote about Braden having few wins, and makes sure to mock the third baseman in order to bring Dallas even further into his corner. "You've either heard the rule or not, it doesn't matter how many wins the cat has," he says.

"Right," says Braden again, just before delivering quote #2 about A-Rod being the fool with enough rope to hang himself. Urban succeeds wildly in drawing out another memorable, incendiary line to ensure that his story makes it national. But like a shark smelling blood, he's not finished.

"And one other thing about him," says Urban, "I'm guessing you didn't like him before this happened." You can hear the smirk in his voice, approving of Braden's response before it even comes, casting Braden as the good guy who really must have no choice but to admit that yes, A-Rod is not his favorite ballplayer. What else can Braden do, in the face of such logic, except utter quote #3.

So after all that, check out the lede on the Daily News:

Dallas Braden clearly isn't over Alex Rodriguez treading on his mound. The Oakland pitcher gave an interview to CSNBayArea.com Wednesday in which he indicated that there could be a fight the next time the A's and Yankees meet.

MLB.com:

If you thought the little feud between Oakland Athletics pitcher Dallas Braden and New York Yankees slugger Alex Rodriguez was over, you're wrong.

NY Post, in an article titled "A's scrub to A-Rod: Let's Use Fists in Round 2":

Based on what Dallas Braden has done in the big leagues, he should concentrate on becoming a better pitcher instead of going after Alex Rodriguez and foolishly challenging the Yankee slugger to a fist fight.

Yet, the As pitcher can't keep his large mouth shut when it comes to Rodriguez.

USA Today, in an article titled "Oakland A's pitcher Dallas Braden to A-Rod: Get ready to fight."

Oakland Athletics starter Dallas Braden still is peeved at New York Yankees star Alex Rodriguez's antics from two weeks ago, and hinted Thursday in a TV-interview there could be a fight the next time they meet in July.

You can say a lot of things about Urban (fawning, ambitious, seedy), but you can't say he failed.

I guess media manipulation and sensationalism isn't anything new, but as a microcosm, this whole incident is pretty staggering. From beginning to end, poor Braden was nothing but a marionette. He doesn't want to fight A-Rod. He never did. He's not even that bad a guy, just a little prideful, a little insecure, and maybe a bit obsessive. His interview with Urban, though....that was some modern Othello-Iago shit. The whole thing is kind of a shame, and I'm left feeling like Braden is an unfortunate pawn in a game he can't begin to control. It leaves him looking like a fool, and if he doesn't already wish that he'd ignored A-Rod's supposed slight, that day will come.

Will No One Rid Me of This Turbulent Team?

"What miserable drones and traitors have I nourished and brought up in my blog, who let their author be treated with such shameful contempt by a low-born expansion team?"


These were the words (adapted, of course) of King Henry II, imploring his coterie to murder the Catholic priest Thomas Becket. And now I'm them to incite Major League Baseball to rid the Yankees of their own turbulent foe:


The Rays are now 20-7, a game ahead of the Yankees for the AL East lead and the best record in baseball. They're kicking everyone's ass in the near vicinity, with the Mariners and Cliff Lee as their latest victim. Garza even made Milton Bradley have a mental breakdown. (Seriously, I hope Milton gets whatever help he needs and gets better.)

Someone, please beat these guys. I know you all hate the Yankees, but for so many reasons, you should hate the Rays more. They can't even come close to filling their horrible ballpark. I remember more passionate fanbases going to Expos games as a kid. RID ME OF THIS TURBULENT TEAM!

*Speaking of the AL East, here's yet another article about the Red Sox and Yankees taking too long to play baseball. Somebody needs to tell people that there's no clock in baseball, and that if they really want faster games, the best move would be shortening the commercial breaks. You could take off 20 minutes in a heartbeat, and 25-30 off games aired on FOX or ESPN.

Another thing: why the hell are playoff games starting at 8:15? Why don't they start at 7 like every other night game during the year? No kid under 10 is going to be able to stay up for the entirety of an 8:15 game, and lo, a generation of baseball fans is lost. It's silliness, and I don't get why they do it. Wouldn't it be better ratings-wise to start earlier? Then people get hooked on the game, and when 8pm rolls around, they aren't switching to the other primetime shows. I guess you can't charge the same ad rate at 7, but at the current rate you won't be able to sell ads for baseball at all in about twenty years. I'm fully prepared for a future where the World Series is on the Versus Network, and my kids become huge mixed martial arts fans, or something.

My girlfriend sent me the Times article linked above, and argued that baseball is a slower game that should be appreciated for its length. From a personal standpoint, I agree; I have no problem with 4-hour games, especially when the Yanks and Sox are battling. But that's because I love baseball, and can lose myself in the nuances and subtle drama of each at-bat, each play, each interaction. To ensure that younger fans reach that point on their own in sufficient numbers to keep baseball viable in America, the game needs to be accessible. You can't really govern the pace within an inning, but you can shorten commercial breaks and start things at a reasonable hour. Sometimes it feels like baseball and its TV sponsors are digging their own grave.

Okay. Time to go do some yoga, take a shower, and spend the night singing the off-day blues.

Morning: Los Suns

I absolutely love this.


For those who missed it, the Phoenix cagers won game 2 against the Spurs wearing uniform tops that said "Los Suns." The specialty jerseys were made "as a celebration of Cinco de Mayo and as a political statement in opposition to Arizona’s new law dealing with illegal immigrants," per the NYTimes and others.

I've always made an explicit effort to avoid politics in this blog,* so I'll keep it simple: I think it's an awesome gesture to a community that probably feels pretty ostracized right now. And I think it's a brave choice for Robert Sarner, the Suns owner, to make. You can read his brief statement here if you want.

*Of my 15 blogs, the only one that really delves into politics is "Warren_Harding_Was_A_Cocksucker.blogspot.com," which I barely update anymore.

Jokes aside, this is an instance where sports can make a small positive contribution to the community. I'm not Hispanic, and I don't live in Arizona, but my guess is that "Los Suns" made a few people feel good last night. If you're like me and were looking for an NBA team to root for in these playoffs, look no further. Also, let's be honest, Steve Nash is one of the 5 coolest humans in the world. I'm not going to list the other 4, but I'll tell you who's not on the list:

THAT BLUSTERING DOUCHEBAG WARREN HARDING!

Another great part of that ESPN recap was Phoenix coach Alvin Gentry's quote about a former Dukie:

"Grant Hill never ceases to amaze me," Phoenix coach Alvin Gentry said. "There's a 37-year-old -- he hates when I say that. Here's a guy who plays on our team that's been in the league for a long, long time. He just does a good job. Everything we ask him to do, never complains. He's always on the best perimeter player. He never complains. He just plays. He'll forever be my favorite player. He really will."

Damn. I got a few goosebumps reading that quote. Hill has always seemed like a very nice, humble dude to me, and I'm clearly biased because of the Duke connection. This validates what I've always thought of him. It would be great if he and Nash could win a title, and it'd also be great if Los Suns could finally beat San Antonio, who I'll always believe stole the series, and by extension the title, in '07 when Stoudemire and Diaw were wrongly ejected after Horry body-checked Nash. They're up 2-0 now, and if they can steal one of the next two in San Antonio, they'll have two shots to win at home.

The Yanks are on the road to Boston today, and I've got the off-day blues, but that doesn't mean there's no news.

*Andy Pettite's injury was revealed to be mild elbow inflammation after yesterday's MRI. He's day-to-day, and may miss his next start, but as Bob Klapisch points out in the linked article, the slew of (mild) injuries to the "Core Four" is problematic. Some people are even talking about an SI cover jinx. They grace the latest issue of the magazine, and it turned out like so:


Is it just me, or is that photo a little...awkward? Why is Jorge grabbing for Mariano's left knee? Why is Andy reaching his leg crosswise over Mariano, like- let's be honest- he's humping him, and palming Jorge's shoulder? Why do all three of them look like giddy schoolgirls vying for the attention of the big man on campus (Jeter)? Whatever the answer, it's clear I'll be adding this to my collection of effeminate Yankee photos. Finally, A-Rod has a partner!


Hey, did you know we're about a month away from the World Cup, and USA-England? That's kinda wild, right? Back later with some of that, and more about the NBA playoffs.

Let's Get Premature: the 4-20 Watch

Time for some sports, eh? First things first, let's make an absurd early prediction that will probably become mathematically impossible sometime in mid-July:

The Yankees will have at least 3 20-game winners this season.

HEAR ME OUT.

Right now, after AJ's kickass performance yesterday, our top 4 guys are 15-1. We have 4 of the top 11 pitchers in the AL by earned run average. Our offense is good enough to earn them some cheapie wins when they aren't at their best. So far, they've been at their best.

Now, is it likely we'll field 3 20-game winners? No. Is it possible?

I ask ye why not.

Let's get to it. I need a fancy name for this feature, which I'll revisit more than once over the season. How about the 4-20 Watch? We're tracking 4 guys, all of whom are seeking 20 victories. And the best part is, it's a secret marijuana reference, earning me credibility with the counterculture people. Time for the first installment.

The 4-20 Watch




4 WINS


4 WINS


3 WINS


3 WINS


BONUS:

MENTAL PROBLEMS

That was fun. And by the way, you could do the same thing for the St. Louis Cardinals. Wainwright and Carpenter have 4 wins apiece, and Penny and Garcia have 3 each. The lowest ERA among the bunch is 2.84.

Now for the bad Yankee news: this team is old.

Jeter: Missed a game due to a strained quad.
Posada: Has to be rested all the time, missed two games when he was hit on the knee, and now might be on the DL because of a calf strain.
A-Rod: Missed a game due to knee soreness.
Rivera: Missed two games due to his left ribs.
Pettitte: Was just pulled from today's game after 5 strong innings and 77 pitches for mysterious reasons.

Old dudes are gonna be old; it's a way of life. And luckily, the younguns are stepping it up in their absence. But we'll need those guys healthy to defend our title. If the injuries stay minor, that's great. If things get worse and long DL stints await, it will take its toll.

But there's more good news; we're about to sweep the Orioles (6-1 after 6), and take some good momentum into Boston. And Andy's going to add a win to the 4-20 Watch, despite a possible injury. Until tomorrow, fans.

Morning: Dread Roomies

You know what would be fun today? LIFE COMMENTARY!

Is there a rule that roommate situations have to end horribly at least like 90% of the time? Are human beings not meant to live together unless they're having, or are the product of having had, intercourse? Last night was a doozy, and I can feel free to re-tell it for everyone's glee since my roommate doesn't read this blog, and doesn't know anyone who does. I hope.

First off, my girlfriend and I are moving to North Carolina in August. I've always kind of liked moving, but the process does come with its share of stress. Finding a place, figuring out how we'll get all our shit down south, and a plethora of mosquito-sized problems tend to keep you on your toes. So it should go without saying that our current roommate, the lease-holder, e-mailed us last month to let us know that we'd have to move out by June.

Awesome. Two moves in two months, one of them the ten-hour variety. It wasn't gonna happen. We decided to basically say no. We're subletting and paying about 70% of the rent illegally, so I knew we had some "bargaining power" in this situation. I sent what I consider to be a hilarious e-mail in response to her eviction notice. In it, I tried to use vaguely lawyerly language to let her know that the situation would be unpleasant, but without resorting to outright aggression. Behold my jargon:

Hey XXXXX,

Sorry to hear that. We're in a pretty impossible situation, as we won't be able to find housing for two months and certainly don't want to have to move twice in such a short span. The costs alone would be prohibitive. It strikes me that it would be much easier for xxxx to find temporary housing for two months since she's already presumably living somewhere else. If you want to pursue this, I understand, but in that case we'll have to protest more officially, which I think would be a shame. Let me know how you want to proceed.

"Protest more officially" seems sinister, right? So does "which I think would be a shame" (if only there was a way to communicate a high-pitched, creepily calm German accent over e-mail). What's gonna happen? Am I getting a lawyer? Am I some kind of loose cannon? Who's to say?!

Anyway, that one worked itself out without me lodging a 'more official' protest, but last night I got another e-mail.

Shane,
I need to talk to you. What is a good time?
-xxxxx

These are my least favorite kind of e-mails. Oh, you want to talk to me? WHAT ABOUT, MOTHERFUCKER?! Don't leave me hanging with this vague ominous shit. Since I'm a paranoid person, I always assume this is a psychological ploy on the other person's part to mess with me and make me uncomfortable. At the very least, it guarantees that I won't think about anything else until this mysterious meeting happens, and that I'll run through every possible scenario in my head in the meantime, complete with dramatic speeches and scathing tell-offs. I wrote back that I was going to take a quick shower, but that I'd be around the rest of the night. And right after that, I go into the bathroom, and it was occupied for the next 30 minutes! Shady, right?

Actually, it was her boyfriend, who is a very nice dude and who has no clue about any of this stuff. But I'd convinced myself that it was a very subtle maneuver by her to deny me use of the bathroom. This is the problem with paranoia; you're wrong at least 50% of the time, and being wrong makes you feel like a huge suspicious jackass.

Moving on. My girlfriend and I had both had long days, so we ate tacos and drank beer. I got buzzed rather quickly, since I barely drink anymore. How quickly? After about 2.5 beers. You might think that's a pretty sad state of affairs, but wait until I tell you the kind of beer:


That's right, it was "Hardcore Premium Apple Cider." The fact that it was cider is bad enough, but the "Hardcore" name makes it doubly pathetic. So of course, after dinner, the roommate came home. By this time I had completed my three alcoholic apple cider drinks, was feeling a bit giddy, and didn't feel like a confrontation. But I also didn't feel like waiting any longer. "Did you want to talk?" I asked with all the innocence I could muster. By my tone, I tried to convey that I had no preconceptions about the forthcoming topic. Maybe she was starting a charity and wanted me to donate. Maybe she had extra tickets for a theater show, and we would all double date!

My girlfriend, being a coward, mumbled something about bringing a pot back to our side of the apartment, and escaped. So I stood in the doorway and listened to a variety of complaints, all of which I'd anticipated. These were the main ones:

1) We had a dog in the apartment. My girlfriend and I house-sit once in a while for a wealthy couple on the upper east side, and walk their dog. For the first time ever, we took their dog with us back to Brooklyn last Sunday. The dog is hypo-allergenic. He was in our apartment for about two hours. But she came over during that time (of course), looked aghast, and said "is that a dog?" As if we'd found a way to bring Hitler back to life, stripped him nude, sat him on our couch, and gave him a giant novelty pencil and some crossword puzzles to pass the time.

I communicated that this was the first time we'd ever had a dog, and would definitely be the last time, that it was a fluke, and on and on. But she did that thing people do when they have a complaint, have rehearsed the speech, and won't be interrupted. She was "very disappointed" in us, we'd "put her lease in jeopardy," etc.

2) She has no privacy in her living room because we use the kitchen. The set up of the place is that we have our own living room and bedroom, but we have to use a separate door to get to the kitchen (New York City, right? LOL!). The kitchen is right next to her living room. Which probably sucks, but that's how it works, and for her pain we pay $1,000 for an apartment that I'm pretty sure runs either $1,400 or $1,500. But now she was fed up, couldn't spend time with her husband or friends (she even installed a hilarious zig-zaggy dressing screen to block our view of the living room- the ones women in the 1800s used to get changed behind), and requested that we make an official schedule for when we had to cook. She asked what time we wanted to 'reserve' the kitchen.

"It really varies," I said, trying to stare directly in her eyes. When confronted, I become incredibly noncommital. I'm the kind of person who can string coherent sentences together under pressure that have absolutely no meaning, but somehow serve the purpose of bringing the conversation to an end with nothing accomplished. Or, as in the previous example, I can toss out a few words that satisfy no one, and let the subsequent silence make the situation so uncomfortable that we all want to leave. I'm like the Derek Jeter of verbal conflict; I say nothing with many words, and before you know it, I'm out the door. Back me into a corner, and I will become the corner.

Then a strange thing happened. The alcohol had my head swimming, and I felt a little distanced from what was actually happening in the living room. Her complaints started to seem like they were about a third person, and instead of trying to rebut them, I just began nodding and giving supportive half agreements. She said again that she was disappointed in us. "Oh yeah," I said. Then she said it was really difficult for her to live with us. "Mm-hmm." We didn't use the sink filter correctly. "Right, right." The bathroom floor was wet one day. "Okay."

And I wasn't even trying to be a smartass. It just seemed appropriate. Some part of me had shut off, and I was just in sympathetic agreement mode. "Yeah, that really sounds tough," I might as well have said. "Hope things work out." I could have been in a neutral conversation I didn't particularly relish with a complainer, but which had no direct bearing on my life.

I highly recommend this approach when someone is trying to chastise you for bullshit that has more to do with their own well-being than anything you've done.

At the end of the conversation I felt the urge to laugh because I finally felt how absurd it was for me to be nodding along with whatever she said. But I don't think I betrayed it, and I successfully made it back to my side of the apartment, where my (coward) girlfriend rushed over and demanded the details.

Back to my original question: is it a rule that the last few months of any roommate relationship are destined to suck completely? This keeps happening to me. Sometimes I share the blame, sometimes it seems like I'm being railroaded, and other times there's just a mutual fatigue shared between the occupants. Right now it's like, my God, we have less than three months to live together. We barely see each other, so can we please try to make this something other than extremely stressful?

The Universe's Response: Impossible!

Does everyone else have this experience too, or am I secretly a shitty roommate? If you agree with my take on things, please comment below.

Wow, that was longer than I anticipated. Looks like someone had something to get off his chest! Instead of talking about sports at all, which I'll do later, here's another quick story from yesterday at work, told in the present tense with short staccato sentences.

I need to book a conference room. I call the number for the 4th floor room. A guy named Mike answers. I ask if I have the right number to book the room. "Just do it online," he says, rudely. I ask him for the online site. "You've never done it before?" he asks, incredulous and still rude. "No." "Well I'm not going to sit here and walk you through it!" he yells. I feel the strong urge for a lame comeback. "Thanks for your rudeness," I say. "No problem!" he yells. I'm pissed, and want to make him feel there will be consequences. "What's your last name?" I ask. He tells me, and asks mine. I tell him. "Don't even bother booking the room," he says, "you're not invited." "You'll be hearing from me, Mike," I retort.

Long story short: When I told my boss about the encounter with Mike (last name omitted), she informed me between laughs that I was not speaking with some petulant secretary. I was speaking with the CFO of the company. And I told him my full name, and then threatened him.

Awesome. Somehow I'm not fired yet, but I expect that shoe to fall within the next hour or so.

Sports:

Robbie is Player of the Month, and Links

*No surprises here. Robbie wins Player of the Month for April. Liriano gets pitcher of the month. Kelly Johnson and Ubaldo Jimenez took the honors in the NL.

*This is stupid. The way the Knicks franchise is run, Mike Brown is the guy we should really be looking at. What a joke. If your team is lethargic, it's your fault. What NBA team can't get pumped for a quarterfinal playoff game against one of their eastern rivals? And if they can't, chastising them over a film session won't help. Talk about closing the barn door after the horse left. Suddenly, Boston looks really good in this one.

*Speaking of the Celts, GM Danny Ainge is now in the business of distracting opposing players by waving towels. Not to be outdone, fellow GM Theo Epstein has vowed to moon any opposing hitter who dares reach base against the vaunted Red Sox defense.

*And Boston just keeps getting classier: the Bruin who actually bit a Philadelphia Flyer's finger says it's no big deal. Seriously, though, it was a Boston-Philadelphia series. If someone getting bit on the finger is the worst that happens, it's a slow year.

*Kyrie Irving is the sickness. Check out the 40-second mark to see him nutmeg a fool. Thanks to Nick for the video.

*Hey, anyone up for some memories?

That's it for today. Bless your hearts.

Morning: CC Gets Hot, Heated

Cinco Puntos De Los Yanquis

1. CC is All the Rage

I know this comparison has been done to death, but Sabathia is so much like a bear that it's practically breathtaking. Watching him walk out of the bullpen before the top of 1st might have been the best part of the whole evening- his face looked pained, sweat was rolling down his brow, and his whole body- especially his hips- rolled as he lumbered through the outfield. Unlike most heavyset human beings, there's something powerful and fearsome about his fat. I'd compare him to James Gandolfini as Tony Soprano, but that was a more tightly-wound energy, whereas CC is loose and slow. He never explodes; his muscle is deceptive. His wind-up and delivery is a slow unleashing of stored strength. The ball zips out in the mid-to-high-90s, and half of you wonders how it could be possible, while the other half understands perfectly. The torque is generated somewhere internally, and has no outward manifestation. That's what separates him from other pitchers; they're tigers, with snarling mouths and quick, vicious movements. CC is a bear. Stillness is his game.


He wasn't particuarly sharp last night, which makes it all the more remarkable that he went 8 innings, threw 106 pitches, and only gave up 1 run. At a certain point in the 4th inning, he was already above 60 pitches, and Guthrie, the Orioles starter, seemed to be the better man. He was cruising, while CC kept laboring and escaping. Fast forward to the 8th: Guthrie had given up 4 runs and thrown 116 pitches in 7 innings, while CC made it an inning longer in just 106. That's where stamina comes in. All that strength and power lets him hit his stride just when others have begun to fade. He's indomitable. He can throw 130 pitches if the need arises. And he gets better with every pitch, with every degree, with every drop of sweat.

Ursa. Major.

2. CC's Rage

In the 7th, out of nowhere, CC stepped off the back of the mound and walked in a circle. The entire infield rushed in, and Girardi came practically sprinting from the dugout. At the game, we didn't know what was going on. Since we were sitting on the first base side, we also didn't know that the ump's strike zone had been horrible and inconsistent all game (gameday's pitch tracker has him mis-calling 20 pitches). So CC threw a strike, the ump called it a strike, and it set the big man off because similar pitches had been called balls all game long.

Though he didn't say anything, the point of his amble around the mound was crystal clear. The ump, Bill Hohn, came out and yelled at him. Girardi got awkwardly close to try to cool him down. And CC, according to fans watching on tv, said something like "I didn't say fucking nothing." You can read more about the near-incident here.

"I didn't say anything. I said absolutely nothing and he came out from behind the plate . . . he was yelling at me," said Sabathia. "A couple years ago, I might have lost it a little more than I did but me getting older and being able to control my emotions helped."

You have to think that a different player might have been tossed, and that maybe the implied power in CC, the idea of the blow-up stewing inside, kept Hohn from issuing the jerked thumb. Not that Sabathia scared him- just that it seemed wiser to keep that blood unstirred, to settle for a cold war.


3. Excellence = Yankee Starting Pitching - Javier Vazquez

We now have four pitchers with 3 wins and an ERA south of 3.0. That's 4 guys in the American League top 12. That's 13 pitcher wins in 20 starts. That's 1 pitcher loss in 20 starts. That's a 16-4 overall record.


4. Oh, Robbie.

0-4 on 10 pitches. This is what happens when a young guy with so much talent goes cold. Two days ago, he got behind in the count, reached for a pitch out of the strike zone, and roped it into the right field seats. That's what he's capable of. He can make up for a lack of discipline, a lack of what I'll call 'batting acumen,' with raw ability. He can swing at a shitty pitch in a bad count and hit a three-run home run. But he can also go 0-4, all of them lazy flies, on 10 pitches. He can reel off a 3-16 streak that has nothing to do with missing the ball, and everything to do with swinging at the wrong times. His average can drop 30 points before you blink. He can lose the top spot in AL batting in a flash.

5. I Want Power

A-Rod and Teixeira need to start hitting home runs. 4 combined round trippers in 187 at-bats ain't gonna cut it. It'd be great if they could hit for average, too (.258 and .181 brings on the dry heaves), but at the very least we need some old school shots. It'd be nice if the great pitching could last forever, but I'm not betting the farm.

The Gist: A solid opening win bodes well for the next two days, where favorable match-ups make the sweep at least semi-likely. At the moment, we're red hot and only 1 game back of the redder and hotter Rays. Another series at Fenway this weekend gives us a chance to dig Boston's early hole a bit deeper.

Game Time! Hope Guthrie Doesn't Lose His Mind

Heading up to the Bronx in a few minutes to watch Sweet Robbie and the others knock some balls around in BP. It'll be the first time I've seen CC in person this year, and it's also a notable game because Jeremy Guthrie is pitching for the Os.

In case you missed the last time he pitched against us, on the 28th, here's what happened:

*Guthrie went 4 2/3 innings, got rocked, and the Os lost.

*He hit Jorge Posada with a pitch, and for a while it was touch-and-go whether Jorge would have to miss more than a game or two.

*Afterward, he said this to the gathered media:

"Let me start by saying I'm embarrassed by the way the game started, I was embarrassed by the way the game finished." I'm apologetic to fans who pay to come and watch the Orioles and watch us lose, in this case, because of me. I'm apologetic to teammates for the inability to help them win a game in four starts. I'm apologetic to Jorge [Posada] if he is to miss any time [because of me] yanking a pitch and hitting him."

*The next day, Guthrie took down his nameplate from his locker. He also removed almost all of his belongings, save for a few jerseys. Nobody was quite sure of the significance of that act. This article, titled "Guthrie Trying to Regroup After Yankees Loss," said the following: "Asked if he was trying to remove some clutter, he agreed that was part of it." Apparently he didn't elaborate on the other part. And this, from manager Dave Trembley:

"I think he really wanted to get one under his belt against the Yankees. It didn't happen for him, and I think he was disappointed. He felt responsible for it, and I told him today that he shouldn't feel that way. He's a guy with a lot of pride. He works real hard. I think he expects himself to be perfect all of the time. When he's not, he takes responsibility for that, and it bothers him."

While filming a MASN commercial earlier this season, Trembley saw Guthrie getting his running in despite a torrential downpour.

Clearly, this is a human being who puts way too much pressure on himself. Someone needs to give him a hug and tell him that the Orioles are a bad baseball team who will continue to be bad no matter how he performs. But with Teixeira starting to swing the bat and the Yankees coming off a 12-run performance yesterday, there's a strong chance Guthrie will spend at least part of tonight weeping into the dirt on the pitcher's mound.

On the other hand, the Os just swept Boston. So there's that to worry about. Let's hope CC can put a stop to their upstart ways.

Morning: Rainy Monday

ALL I HAVE ARE COMPLAINTS!

Yesterday, I got sunburned playing football, and then it was ridiculously humid, and then we didn't have air conditioning, and then it was a miserable night's sleep, and then it was a rainy Monday morning.


So instead of providing thoughtful analysis or talking about the Yankees, I think I'll just post 5 CURMUDGEONLY SPORTS OPINIONS.

But first: The A-Rod Blog launched on Friday. Come on over, give it a read, check back occasionally.

Here we go.

1) Screw Lebron James

I don't want this guy on the Knicks. I don't want him in NYC. It makes me sick to see Knicks fans beg for Lebron James. Is he an amazing player? Yes. Fine. But he's quickly becoming Kevin Garnett Junior. If I have to watch him stare down another player, or pose for the crowd, or scream into a camera one more time, I'm actually going to send him hate mail. I've never sent anyone hate mail in my life, but I'm going to make an exception for King James. I'll send him a psychotic rambling letter that will never reach his hands but will get me banned from all Cavaliers games.

I DIDN'T WANT TO GO TO YOUR STUPID CITY ANYWAY, CLEVELAND.

Honestly, though: play the game, get excited, be awesome. But STOP with this tough-guy shit. Everyone knows who you are. You don't need to intimidate or embarrass people to prove yourself. It speaks poorly to your character. Stop using the facial expression where it looks like you just chased some punk kids from your lawn in the suburbs. You used to be all about smiling and fun pre-game rituals and free spirit balling, Lebron. What happened? What happened?

Don't be like this guy:


He's an ass, and everyone knows it. He actually made unaffiliated people root for the Lakers two years ago. Nobody likes him except his own fans, and nobody will like you if you keep it up. As of now, I hope you lose, and I hope you never come to NYC.

2) Screw A.J. Pierzynski


Pierzynski, a catcher for the White Sox, is one of the biggest jerks in the game, and on Saturday he had the temerity to hit a game-winning double against the Yanks. In the past, he's kneed a player in the groin, run on the inside of the first base line in order to hit Justin Morneau with his spikes, and faked getting hit with a pitch. He also got punched in the face by Cubs catcher Michael Barrett after knocking him over at home plate. White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen had this to say about his catcher:

"If you play against him, you hate him. If you play with him, you hate him a little less."

You can watch "AJ in his own Words" below.

3) Screw Javy Vazquez

And screw his below average fastball. From 2007-2009, he had exactly 3 starts where his average fastball velocity was below 90mph. That's 3 starts in 3 seasons. This year, his first 5 starts have all featured an avg. fastball velocity below 90.

What does a lower average fastball velocity mean?

a) Batters tee off. His HR/9 is 3.13 right now, double what it's ever been for any full season in the past. Opponent BA is .330. It hasn't been above .270 in like 10 years for him.

b) He can't strike anybody out. Since batters don't have to be scared of his fastball, knowing they can foul it off at worse, his curve, change, and slider don't have the same power of surprise. His K/9 is the worst it's been in years, and batters are making contact at pitches both inside and outside the strike zone at a higher rate than he's ever allowed. Ditto for his swinging strike rate - at 8.6%, it's below 10% for the first time in his career.

c) He has no confidence in his pitches. His bb/9 rate is a miserable 5.87. Again, that's double any total since his first two years in Montreal (3.05 and 3.55, there). His K/BB ratio is below 2 for the first time ever. His WHIP is above 2 for the first time ever. Because of all that, he throws more pitches, tires more quickly, and can't get deep into games.

Bottom line: without a fastball, Javy stinks. None of those numbers will significantly improve unless he can get his velocity back into the 92-94 range consistently. Until then, he's costing us games.

4) Screw Cliff Lee

Here's another phenomenal talent with no loyalty or class. He comes out in his first start at Seattle and dominates for 7 innings, but the Ms lose in 12. Kind of a heartbreaking game, in some ways, and Lee's agent tops it off that night by telling everyone that Lee probably won't be with the Mariners next year. Along with his constant arrogance and his refusal to pitch 3 games in the World Series last year, this cements the pattern of selfishness that undercuts Lee's talent.

Can you imagine worse timing? Seattle is the best team never to make a World Series, and their fanbase has high hopes for this year. It hasn't started amazingly, and they're hovering around .500, but the optimistic spirit prevails. And then Lee has to rub salt in the wound of an extra inning loss by telling everyone he won't be around next year. It's not like this is a big surprise to Ms fans, but it's still a shitty way to treat a fanbase. It really reeks of a guy pouting because he couldn't get any run support, and taking it out on the team through his agent.

5) Screw Dirk Nowitzki and Carmelo Anthony

After using math and picking like a genius against my brothers in the NBA playoff pool, I got screwed by these two guys, who couldn't lead their respective teams to first round wins despite being the higher seed. I'm up by about 250 points after round 1, but what should have been an easy win will now come down to the wire. Thanks for nothing, you bastards.

The A-Rod Blog is LAUNCHED!

Friends, readers, lovers:

The A-Blog, Alex Rodriguez's official internet diary, is ready to be viewed. Read about his crazy exploits, dramatic adventures, and mundane issues...

HERE.

For those of you who are url fans, it's: http://arod4ever.blogspot.com.

For those who love link sections, you can find it on the sidebar to the left.

I've posted 7 of the old blogs here, and I've posted those and like 8 others on the new A-Blog, along with a new post. Starting next week, you can expect daily or semi-daily posts with stories and opinions from our favorite anti-hero. I've heard, but can't confirm, that A-Rod likes to post in the afternoon.

Take a visit, tell your friends, and print out tiny leaflets to drop in and around your town. I'm off to Yankee Stadium to watch Andy and The Holy Crow get rude with the ChiSox. Have an awesome weekend.

Morning: Give Him Player of the Month

1. You know who I'm talking about: Sweet Robbie. The man with the magic bat.


Last night, he hit two more home runs and a double to increase his league-leading average to .407. After last night, his numbers looked like this:

AVG: .407
OBP: .444
SLG: .790
OPS: 1.235
wOBA: .510
HR: 8
Hits: 33
Runs: 21
Total bases: 64

He leads Major League Baseball in every one of those categories except home runs; Konerko has 10, and Kelly Johnson 9. He'd also probably be leading in RBI if Teixeira or A-Rod could ever get on base in front of him. He has 17 at the moment, and Miguel Cabrera leads with 25.

So you know what this means: today is April 30th. Unless he runs out to second base tonight, drops his pants, does a lewd dance in front of some kids, gives the middle finger to every camera in the Stadium, and burns an American flag on the pitcher's mound, the dude is PLAYER OF THE MOTHERFUCKING MONTH.

I've never seen a hitter catch fire like Cano has this month. The last week in particular has been spectacular. He's 13 for his last 21, and most of the outs have been smoking liners right at a fielder. I get excited every time he comes to bat, and each new hit actually makes me giddy. I've spent the last few Yankee games jumping up and down, waking up my girlfriend, and calling my stepfather to rave about the current best player in baseball.

On the Yankee message board I frequent, spirits are equally high. "How many times can a guy play in an infield with three future Hall of Famers, and be the best of the bunch?" one poster asked. Others are saying he'll someday be known as the best second baseman to ever play the game. It's getting hyperbolic, yes, but even that is a sign of someone's greatness. Another obvious sign is that people are striving for nicknames. I've always liked calling him Sweet Robbie, because of his free and easy style, but there have been some other good contenders:

Obi Wan Canobi (the force is with him)
The Holy Crow

The Holy Crow is my favorite right now. I'm trying to find out where it comes from, and I don't quite get it, but it's awesome nonetheless.


2. Just when you thought I couldn't rave about Cany anymore, DID YOU SEE THAT PLAY HE MADE IN THE FIELD???? DID YOU SEE IT??

Go to this site, and scroll down to the listed highlights. The Cano video is in the second row. Click on where it says "Cano throws across his body for the out." You also might be able to see it directly by going here, but don't quote me on that; MLB video always foils me. Let me embed, you bastards. Anyway, don't miss the casual bubble blowing as he goes around the horn, and the shit-eating grin. That's the look of a guy who knows he's awesome, and doesn't need to say anything about it.

The play is ridiculous. It's absurd that a human being could make that throw. I don't think anybody playing the game today could have done it. Joe Morgan, the greatest second basemen of all time, has said before that he's never seen anyone make that play better than Cano. Granted, Joe Morgan is kind of an idiot as an announcer, but second base is one thing he knows.

Afterward, Jeter just stared at him and didn't say a word. When they asked Girardi after the game what it takes to make that play, he said the following: "it takes great range, a great arm, and it takes being able to throw a strike without looking."

Without looking! Here's what the Times said:

And on Thursday, Cano supplied a defensive play so superb that, as he watched it from beside the mound, Burnett put his hands on his head in appreciative disbelief.

“When he threw it, I was like, I should be backing up first,” Burnett said. “But when you’re that good, I guess I don’t have to.”

An ESPN article claiming Cano is having the best April in Yankee history said the following:

He also completed a defensive play that was so spectacular Yankees starter A.J. Burnett nearly cried out, "Oh, my God!" on the mound, while Cano's manager, Joe Girardi, said he has never seen anything like it.
...
The play Cano made in the third can be classified as utterly ridiculous. Nolan Reimold hit a hard grounder up the middle. Burnett was already kicking himself, thinking Cano had "no chance" to get to the ball.

Quick aside: what does it mean when someone "nearly cried out"? Does that mean he actually didn't cry out, but the journalist wanted him to, so the whole 'nearly' gambit comes into play? Interesting, ESPN.

Anyway, Cano is a damn beast. He's a baseball messiah. He's bringing joy and awe wherever he goes. Tonight, I get to see him live and in person on the last day of a month he's owned. Guess which t-shirt I'll be wearing? I am so psyched.


3. Here's a great piece by Yahoo sports on Jorge Posada. They interview about the best pitchers he's ever caught. My favorite tidbit was that he was afraid of David Cone. Oh, and the revelation that Pettitte used to throw a nasty knuckler in the minor leagues:

“When I got to two strikes, I was going to throw a knuckler as hard as I could,” Pettitte said. “I struck everybody out with it.” His coaches ordered him to scrap it. One of the coaches was Hoyt Wilhelm, a Hall of Fame knuckleballer. They promised him when he was in the major leagues for 10 years, he could start throwing it again. So? “I can’t,” Pettitte said. “I lost it.” As he recalled, he threw two to Posada. One hit him in the shin, the next in the foot. Posada took off his mitt and warned, “I’m not catching you again if you throw it.” Pettitte: “My nickname was ‘Knucksie.’ I’m not kidding.”)

Thanks to Spike for the link.


4. Apparently the Yankees are not the most hated team in baseball. Based on a survey by the Wall Street Journal, that honor goes to the Cleveland Indians. Apparently there's some complicated formula that goes into determining positive or negative feelings based on online-brand reactions, and the Tribe topped the list. It sounds like bullshit to me, but whatever. Isn't Cleveland the lovable loser team? I mean, they were even the good guys in the Major League movies. The Yankees were the Evil Empire. I can't think of anyone I know who hates Cleveland. Pity, sympathy, empathy...sure. But hatred? The only people who could possibly hate the Indians are their own fans. And self-loathing is different than the kind of hatred opposing fans reserve for the Yanks and Sox.


5. Yankee starters continue to roll.

AJ went 8 scoreless innings, giving up only three hits, in a performance that deserved more attention than it received. Besides Vazquez, our highest starter ERA belongs to Sabathia at 3.12. And he's still the guy I'd most want on the mound in a big game. If Teixeira and A-Rod ever start hitting, this team will be totally unbeatable.

Okay, that's it for the morning. The official A-Rod blog launches this afternoon. Until then, here's a gift for those of you who want to watch the Cano play on repeat. This .gif doesn't it justice, and I highly recommend the version on MLB video, but it's still fun:

Morning: Sick Day

This will be the first and last post of the day, friends. It's a sick day.

1. First Yankee tickets of the season are PURCHASED. Friday night, Andy and Robbie do horrible things to the ChiSox, and I'll bear witness.

2. Robbie is now batting .390 after a 2-5 night that included a home run and two line outs. This is getting epic.

3. CC moved up to 3-1 with an average (for him) performance against the Orioles. He'll take the easy win. If he stays healthy and goes through his usual super-hot stretch in the summer, 20 wins looks pretty likely.

4. Question from the girlfriend: how many teams have never won a World Series? Turns out there are 8:

Padres, Rockies, Astros, Brewers, Rays, Mariners, Rangers, Nationals. Those last three have never appeared.

5. Francisco Cervelli is quietly hitting .444 with an OBP of .524. He's not eligible or anything, I'm just saying...

Slick AJ tries to win the series in Baltimore tonight. Brief entry OVER. Here's something that's both brief and cool.

A-Blog Greatest Hits, Part 7

Get psyched, everyone, the A-Rod blog is coming soon!

A-Rod's Blog, 8/30/07: Pick-Up Lines to Use on Gorgeous Babes

Whenever I have a really good game, I spend the next day trying to land some gorgeous babes. Not only because I’m fresh in their minds from the morning paper, but also because I feel confident and manly from walloping a baseball.

Last night I hit the winning homer against the Red Sox, so today I bring my “A-game” (I came up with that one on a tour bus to Six Flags) with the ladies. Before I tell you my pick-up lines, though, I want to ask a question. Why do they call it a “game-winning home run”? It didn’t win the game! I hit it in the seventh, and we still had to play like four more innings before they’d let us go home! The media always tries to explain this to me, but I still don’t understand. If you know what’s going on, leave a comment.

Okay. I thought up my first new pick-up line in L.A. a few days ago. Here’s how it works: I walk up to a pretty girl, smiling all sly, and say, “you look as beautiful as the first day I met you.” She acts surprised, and then I go “oh, maybe because it is the first day I met you!” I wait a second for her to get the joke. Right as she stops blushing and giggling like crazy, I step in close and whisper in her ear. “The name’s A-Rod, and I think I love you.” Then I kiss her on the hair.

For the next pick-up line, I saunter up and say, “hey, want to see my A-Rod?” I start undoing my belt buckle, so the girl thinks I’m about to show her my penis. But all the sudden I reach into my pants and pull out a dollar bill. I hand it to her and say “Before you spend it, make sure to check the serial numbers. It could be counterfeit.” The girl leaves, puzzled, but later that day she checks the dollar, and written in black ink are the words “Alex Rodriguez, ballplayer.” Then it has my cell phone number, and, below that, in red ink, it says, “P.S. – this bill is not counterfeit. And neither am I.” That night, we’re necking in my car.

Crap! I just looked on ESPN, and we have an afternoon game today. That is annoying to the extreme. I wonder if Joe will let me skip.

Morning: Perfection Isn't Reality, Joe

1. Yankee fans like to complain about Joe Girardi. I have complained about Joe Girardi in the past, and I admit to enjoying myself.


But I can also admit that he's a good manager. He deals exceptionally well with the bullpen, balancing work loads to ensure that nobody tires out when they're really needed toward the season's end. He's on top of all the stats, especially the match-up numbers for every pitcher and hitter in the league. He hired a good hitting coach. He likes his players. He's good with the media. He got braces on his lower teeth out of solidarity for his daughter, who was scared to get her own. He obviously cares about winning, to the point that he's visibly anxious on the bench almost all the time (a nice contrast to Torre's half-sleeping act). There's just one problem:

Joe Girardi is a perfectionist.

Really, it could be worse. I'd rather have a perfectionist than some sloppy, live-and-let-live skipper who cares less than he should. But sometimes perfectionism goes against the protective rails of common sense, and finds its way overboard. Last night, Phil Hughes struggled. He walked in a run in the second inning, couldn't harness his curve, and was getting crowded by a restrictive ump. But he plodded through, and made it through the fifth inning. When he came out for the sixth, he retired the first two batters. At that point, he'd allowed one run on two hits. He'd thrown 109 pitches, and the Yanks led 2-1.

Apparently Phil's upper limit is somewhere near 110 pitches. And a lefty, Luke Scott was up. The perfectionist manager's handbook says to yank Hughes and bring in a lefty specialist to try to close out the inning.

But for God's sake, Joe, use common sense: leave your starter in to at least try for the last out. He battled all day, turned in a decent outing, and was past the worst of his struggles. Why not let him finish the inning? To top it off, the lefty specialist he was bringing in, Boone Logan, was fairly untested. It wasn't necessarily a better option even on paper. But perfectionist Joe obeyed the dictates of his lefty/righty match-up stats, and the overly-stringent pitch count, and gave Hughes the hook.

Sometimes, that stuff is going to work. Sometimes it won't. Logan walked Scott, Robertson (also struggling) came in and hit Wigginton in the ribs on an 0-2 count, and three singles later, the Yanks were down 4-2. The game ended with a 5-4 loss to the current worst team in baseball.

I'm not saying I'd trade Girardi for anyone else. I like him, and he has a World Series championship to his credit. But his perfectionism has a tendency to get out of control, and to cloud his view of the bigger picture. The whole 'forest for the trees' metaphor works here. He could stand to relax a little bit, be a little flexible, and stop out-managing himself. If those wheels turned a little more freely in his very active brain, the Yanks would have a couple more wins to their credit.

2. Guess who went 3-4 last night and now leads the MLB in batting average at .389?

ROE-BEE-THON!

3. Guess who can't hit a lick the last few days, went a combined 1-13 last night, and have mired the Yankee offense in its first rut of the season?

Get your shit together, guys.

4. Jorge likes Chai Latte

This comes from the girlfriend, via another friend, who saw Jorge Posada in a Manhattan Starbucks a couple weeks ago. He made his order, chai latte, and the server asked him for his name. Apparently he paused and stared at the barista as if to say "really?" Then he said "Jorge," got his drink, called his manicurist on a pink Blackberry, and walked out with his poodle in tow.

GOSSIP! By the way, if it crossed your mind to question Jorge's sexuality, here's a picture of his wife.


She's the one on the left.

5. Why does Robertson stink now?

David Robertson, basically lights out in last year's playoffs, is rocking a 10.8 ERA and has had two really terrible outings. His fastball velocity seems fine, but its run value is way the hell down. Is it lacking movement? Batters are making contact on 95% of swings they take at balls in the strike zone, which means he's not blowing the heater by anyone. Last year, the total % was 77.

It still looks like he's got decent stuff, so I'm going to chalk this up to small sample size and a slumpy beginning, and hope that everything normalizes in the next month. Unlike a lot of Yankee fans, I came in to this season thinking he was a better 8th inning option than Joba, and I still hope that comes true. But at the moment, it doesn't look great.

More later.

Duke is the Best Team in the NBA

In just a moment, I'm going to turn this post over to long-time contributor Nick, the man who brought you such hits as the Duke-WVU preview, a Roy Williams take-down, and Zombie Singler.

Before I do, though, two quick Yankee things:

First, Robinson Cano is better than Dustin Pedroia. That's according to six unaffiliated scouts. Booya. I guess that means Robbie will get two undeserved MVP awards.

Second, the Yanks visited the White House yesterday. You can read the details and watch video of Obama speaking here. Earlier, everyone on the team visited wounded soldiers at Walter Reed.

Okay. So Nick's post is pretty epic, and I hope I can do it justice with formatting. Basically, he set out to disprove the...well, screw it, let's hear it in his own words. Take it away, Nick.

Duke in the NBA: The Manifesto

Ah, yes. All is right with the world on this wonderful April day. Duke has some freshly cut nets and a brand new trophy. Undefeated at home, ACC regular season and tourney champs, and NCAA tournament champion. Duke has once again proved that they are without a doubt the class of the NCAA. I could wax poetic about their success all day.

LISTEN DOOKIE!!! I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR STUPID CHAMPIONSHIPS YOU ONLY HAVE THEM BECAUSE K RIDES THE REFS AND GETS ALL THE CALLS EVERY SINGLE ONE OF UR PLAYERS IS GONNA SUCK DONKEY DICK IN THE NBA IF THEY EVEN GET THERE WHICH THEY WONT FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

Really? Sucks in the NBA, you say? Prepare to have your shit wrecked using my two of my favorite things: tables and math.

NO DOOKIES PLAY IN THE NBA.

Hmm...Say, just how many Duke players played in the NBA this season, compared to other respectable programs? Exhibit 1:

Duke: 14
UCLA: 14
UNC: 13
UCONN: 12
Arizona: 10
Kansas: 9
Kentucky: 9
Texas: 7
Ga Tech: 6
Memphis: 6
Ohio St: 6
Wake: 6

WHATEVERRR DOOKIES SIT ON THE BENCH AND LICK THE ASSHOLES OF REAL PLAYERS NONE OF UR GUYS DO ANYTHING.

OK, so Shavlik Randolph really shouldn’t count as an NBA player. Let’s get rid of all the scrubs. Computer, remove anyone that was benched for more than 15 games this year. Exhibit 2:

UCLA: 11
Duke: 10
Arizona: 7
Kansas: 7
UConn: 6
UNC: 6
Ga Tech: 4
Memphis: 4
Texas: 4
Kentucky: 3
Wake: 3
Ohio St: 1

Oh shit! Second only to UCLA. I can handle that. You know what else is interesting? It looks like we have six schools eligible to enter the world’s first 5 on 5 alumni tournament! Of the players left, let’s take the top 5 alums from each school (ranked by John Hollinger’s PER rating) and set some rosters. Here’s what it looks like:



What in the name of Christian Laettner? The K Army starting 5 go for 79.6 PPG, more than any other team? Our combined PER is better than any other team? We dominate in nearly every single statistical category? Say, those numbers are quite impressive, not just compared to other alumni teams. How would they fare against, say, the mighty Cleveland Cavaliers?



That’s right kids. Duke wins, 80-70. Congratulations Duke Blue Devils, 2009-10 NBA Regular Season Champions.