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November 19, 2007
A-Rod Wins MVP In One Hour
This is wrong. The Globe’s Jason Tuohey makes a case for David Ortiz as AL MVP over A-Rod, who will certainly win it when the results are announced at 2 p.m. But it’s plain wrong. Ortiz certainly had a better year than most people thought, and possibly his best year ever, but that has nothing to do with Alex Rodriguez, who also possibly had his best year ever. There’s a dynamic here similar to Brady/Manning, in that critics see A-Rod and Ortiz as complementary players. If one is undervalued, then the other must be overvalued. Of course, it’s ludicrous, just as it is for people to think that whatever Tom Brady does reflects on Peyton Manning. David Ortiz is a great player but A-Rod was a little bit better.
November 19, 2007
Signs of the Apocalypse are Everywhere
So which one is a greater harbinger of doom for the planet:
• The fact that the Buffalo Bisons baseball team felt the need to illuminate their entire stadium because the Bills were on Sunday Night Football? How can NBC have Green Week, when Greenzo scolded Liz Lemon for keeping lights on for ‘The Invisible People,’ and then condone this stuff? THE ENTIRE STADIUM’S LIGHTS WERE ON AND THERE WAS NO ONE IN IT! Normally, I would be worried about the long-term consequences of this…
• … except it may not matter. When, with the Patriots leading 35-7 at halftime of a game on my brother’s birthday, NBC chronicled the Martha’s Vineyard Regional High School football team, I felt my universe was about to collapse upon itself. It will be tough to top that for outright absurdity ever again.
November 16, 2007
The Week In Quotes – Barry Bonds edition
Yesterday in San Francisco, the best hitter in baseball history was indicted on four counts of perjury and one count of obstruction of justice, and if convicted, will face up to 30 years in prison. The charges are unsurprising. They’re also absurd.
— Tim Marchman’s take in the New York Sun
In the absence of a tape-recorded, cartoon villain speech from Bonds proving that he knew he was taking steroids and growth hormone, it is going to be very difficult to prove beyond any reasonable doubt that Bonds knowingly took drugs.
— Marchman
So Bonds is in a lot of trouble?
Maybe, but maybe not.
— Sports law expert Michael McCann breaks down the indictment on cnnsi.com
My first reaction is that this is a travesty, and has been for years. For someone to be investigated for this long for something so unimportant is a disgrace… This is an abuse of power, a shameless personal attack of Barry Bonds.
This is not a good day for baseball, it’s not a good day for anyone involved, really.
— The “Only Baseball Matters” blog
Never mind the debate over sticking an asterisk on the ball in the Hall of Fame. Baseball has no business putting an asterisk on Barry Bonds. The asterisk belongs on Major League Baseball, for allowing the players union to bully it into avoiding testing and penalties.
Our “friend” George Vecsey’s spot-on take in the Times
I’m high up on the line you can get behind me
But my head’s so big you can’t sit behind me
Life of a don
Lights keep glowin’
Comin’ in the club with that fresh sh#t on
With somethin crazy on my arm
Uh-uh-uh
And here’s another hit, Barry Bonds
— Kanye West, “Barry Bonds”
November 15, 2007
Things Like This Bother Me
Jeffrey Chadiha has a column on ESPN.com today that is tagged with the line, “Rumors of their demise have been greatly exaggerated.” The topic? The notion that without Dwight Freeney, the Colts cannot win the Super Bowl. Chadiha writes:
It’s a devastating blow to lose a Pro Bowl defensive end, no question. But to believe Freeney’s loss makes the Colts incapable of defending their Super Bowl championship is a silly notion at best.
Here’s what I’d like to know: where that “silly notion” comes from. Did Chadiha make it up? The answer is “yes.” No one is saying — not on ESPN.com at least, as far as I can tell — that the Colts can’t win without Freeney. If this was Peyton Manning, it would be another story. But it’s not Peyton Manning.
And the end of his article, Chadiha writes:
All they need is the same attitude and belief that has gotten them this far. When it comes down to it, it’s those two qualities that mean more to Indianapolis than anything else these days.
Yes, those two qualities… and Peyton Manning.
November 15, 2007
Good News
Frito-Lay is attempting to make an environmentally-friendly (neutral?) potato chip factory.
November 15, 2007
George Vecsey And The Yankees Character Assassination Machine
The Yankees character assassination machine continues. Just when you thought the lackeys of this organization couldn’t be any more embarrassingly myopic, George Vecsey writes an article entitled “Yanks Should Treat Rodriguez the Way He Treated Them.” The absolutely phony premise of the article — that A-Rod hurt the Yankees’ feelings, so the Yankees should move on — belies the fact that the Yankees are a particularly ruthless baseball organization. When things are going well, the plaudits never stop, from inside the organization and out. When they’re not, the Yankees are quick to point the blame at the players or coaches for underperforming, making sure to emphasize that losing is a character defect, not a side-effect of giving one’s best in gamesmanship and coming up short.
Don’t believe me? Here’s what Michael Kay, the Yankees television broadcaster, had to say about Joe Torre on Torre’s way out of town:
There are things about Joe Torre, if I wanted to come out and say, would show how cold and calculated he really is… Joe Torre is for Joe Torre. … The graveyard of Yankees coaches is loaded with bones of coaches Joe Torre did nothing about.
Is that so, Michael? Well, that’s just a classy move on your part. Joe Torre hurt your feelings by leaving the Yankees, so you need to start completely unfounded rumors to tarnish the four-time World Champion manager. Well, done! You should be proud of yourself.
Now Vecsey somehow tries to similarly indict Rodriguez, basically saying A-Rod should have expressed fealty to the Yankees by not attempting to maximize his value on the open market. That A-Rod’s ploy didn’t work is irrelevant: baseball is a business, the Yankees are in the business of winning, and A-Rod gives any team a great, great chance of winning. That’s why he’s going to command money no matter where he goes, even back to New York. The Yankees haven’t forgotten his 54 home runs, even if Vecsey has. He writes:
He is an enigmatic figure in their clubhouse, clearly not a player who improves his team.
Such an embarrassing quote is worthy of his equally embarrassing brother. Calling A-Rod a player “not a player who improves his team” is possibly the most unbelievably stupid statement I have read in The New York Times.
In fairness, he probably means “in the clubhouse,” but A-Rod’s job is to play baseball, not rah-rah his teammates. Mike Mussina never gets called out for his surly ways, but he’s not the iconoclast that A-Rod is. A-Rod wants to be the best player ever and the biggest name ever, and the Yankees fancy themselves the greatest organization and biggest name in sports, and both are ruthless in search of their goals. As I’ve written before, it’s a match made in heaven. How is this not obvious? To make the claim, as Vecsey, Kay and others have, that certain players are big enough to hurt the Yankees’ feelings is to undercut the entire foundation on which the Yankees empire stands. That notion is that the Yankees are so big that no one can touch them, even the Red Sox, in wake of two titles in four years. Remember Hank Steinbrenner? He said that the Red Sox “would never be the Yankees,” even after the titles. And he’s right. You’ll notice that he’s not saying anything any more. He knows he can win with A-Rod, and win the negotiation, and others will do the dirty work. And he will win the negotiation. Why? Because the Yankees always win in the end. Admitting A-Rod hurt their feelings would make them losers, and that’s not what this organization is all about, is it, George?
November 14, 2007
A-Rod May Talk To The Yankees
So Alex Rodriguez now wants to talk to the Yankees without Scott Boras. Interesting. I wonder how that would go…
A-Rod whips a folded piece of paper out of his suit pocket and opens it. The paper is an email printout from Brian Cashman, telling him to go to the third floor of Yankee Stadium, room 310, at 1:30 p.m. A-Rod gets into the elevator, checks his hair in the mirror and takes a deep breath. The elevator rises. Three stories up, the doors open. He steps out. He stands there for second. Is he ready for this? He’d better be. This is a job interview, and he can’t be late. As it is, he only has a minute. Is room 310 to the left or right? He looks at the signs on the wall. It’s on the left.
He pauses after he takes one step and takes a deep breath. As he does this, someone rounds the corner and heads for the elevator. It is a man who is walking with the casualness of someone who travels these halls for a living. The man studies A-Rod’s suit, tie, and briefcase and knows why he’s here. Alex smiles politely and knowingly and begins walking away from the elevator, trying to hide his nerves. He already feels like a fool. He comes to the end of the hallway and takes another left, which, in three seconds, he realizes is wrong. He turns around, red-faced, and passes three occupied open-doored offices before coming to room 310. It is 1:31. His appointment was at 1:30. He is late.
He knocks on the door.
There is no answer.
Brian Cashman (inside): Should I get the… ?
Hank Steinbrenner (in whisper): Shhhhhhh!
Cashman (quietly): But I thought…
Hank: Let’s make him wait.
A-Rod knocks again. There is no answer.
Cashman: Hank, do you really want to… ?
Hank: Brian, SHUT UP.
A-Rod thinks he has the room number, or the wrong floor. Embarrassed, he goes back to the elevator well. His printout said to go to the third floor, but those were merely directions to the Legends Field offices. Had the email said something different? The fourth floor, maybe? He isn’t sure. All he knows is that, feeling a slight change of heart, he had emailed the Yankees behind Scott Boras’ back, and this was wrong on so many levels, and now he was lost inside Yankee Stadium just like he was lost on the outside… and so embarrassed, too…
He goes to press the button for the elevator and thinks better of it just as his thumb depresses the up arrow. It illuminates. He takes out his cell phone, which should still have Brian Cashman’s number in it, and is searching his address book when the elevator doors open. There are three people inside, and they look at him. He stammers something like ‘No, I’m good,’ and they look confused and chuckle to themselves. He tries to take it in stride, but he is breaking.
He dials Brian Cashman’s number. He thinks he can hear a phone ringing somewhere in the distance, but he can’t be sure.
Hank: Shut that damn thing off!
Cashman (turns off ringer): Sure thing, but shouldn’t we… ?
Hank: I’ll decide what we’ll do and when we’ll do it.
Cashman: Okay, sure thing. You’re the…
Hank (expectantly): … the what? Say it.
Cashman: You’re the… boss.
George Steinbrenner (on speakerphone): I heard that!
Hank: Heard what?
George: I don’t… remember. I…
Hank: It’s okay dad. He didn’t say anything.
Cashman: It’s okay, Mr. Steinbrenner.
Hank (mouthing): “I’m Mr. Steinbrenner now.”
Cashman: [gulps]
Hank: Give me that phone.
Hank takes out the phone and called A-Rod.
A-Rod: Brian?
Hank: Is this you, Alex? You are late.
A-Rod: Brian?
Hank: This is Hank Steinbrenner, Alex. Hello.
A-Rod: Hello, ah, Hank.
Hank: Hank, Alex?
A-Rod: Yes, Hank. Oh, I’m sorry, I meant Mr., ah…
Hank: Yes, Alex?
A-Rod: Mr., ah…
Hank: Yes, Alex?
A-Rod: Mr. ah… Steinbrenner?
Hank: Yes, Alex.
A-Rod: Oh, ah… thank you, Mr. Steinbrenner.
Hank: You are welcome, Alex. Why are you late?
A-Rod: Sorry, I got confused about the, um, floor. What floor are you on?
Hank: We are on the third floor, Alex.
A-Rod: Okay, what room?
Hank: Room 310, Alex.
A-Rod: Really? Because I was just, ah, there… I knocked on the door.
Hank: I can assure you that you did not, Alex. We have been here the whole time.
A-Rod:A Yeah, okay, it must have been my mistake. I’ll be there in one second.
Hank: Thank you, Alex.
A-Rod walks back down the hall, back to room 310 and knocks on the door. Brian Cashman quickly opens it. He has gotten up from one of two chairs facing Hank Steinbrenner, who sitting with his back to a large window looking upon Legends Field. It appears there are still Halloween decorations along the field: there is a mummy hanging from the backstop. Cashman, per usual, looks like he has not slept for days, but he is even worse now. Steinbrenner is sitting back in his chair, smiling. There is a phone on the table, and there is an illuminated light on the phone. Along the wall there are approximately 30 identical stuffed black garbage bags.
Hank: Hello, Alex.
A-Rod (nervously): Hello, Mr. Steinbrenner.
George: Who is that?
Hank: It is Alex Rodriguez, dad.
George: Who?
A-Rod (toward phone): HELLO, MR. STEINBRENNER. HOW ARE YOU FEELING?
George: Son, is he there?
Hank (coyly): Yes, father.
George (in firm, entirely changed tone of voice): Please sit down, Alex.
A-Rod: Mr. Steinbrenner! You’re okay!
George: Yes, Alex. Now sit down.
Hank: Wait… not just yet. Remember what we talked about, dad?
George: Yes, son. I nearly forgot.
Hank: Alex, you have demeaned this organization. And for that you must be punished.
A-Rod: I… uh…
Hank: You must wear this.
Hank pulls out a crude dunce cap emblazoned with the words “i like the red socks”
Hank: Put this on.
A-Rod: Um… okay.
He puts on the cap.
A-Rod: Should I… uh… sit?
Hank: No, Alex, you should not. Not only do you have the gall to spurn our offers, and not only do you show up late, you have the gall to wear that hat inside my office. And for that reason you should not sit.
A-Rod: But you just gave it to me…
Hank: Alex, Alex. It is useless to resist. You shall stand. Now tell me why you are here.
A-Rod: I just… um… I just…
Hank: Speak, Alex… It is time.
A-Rod: (sniff)
Hank: NOW, Alex!
A-Rod: (starts crying) I WANT TO COME BACK. I’M SORRY. SCOTT MADE ME DO IT. I DIDN’T WANT TO… I’LL PLAY FOR ANYTHING I SWEAR.
Hank: Scott made you do it, Alex?
A-Rod: (sniffs) Yes.
Hank: Are you sure about that, Alex?
A-Rod: (horrified) Wait… you didn’t… you didn’t talk to Scott, did you?
Hank: Why yes, Alex. We did.
A-Rod: This can’t be happening…
Hank: It was all your idea, Alex! It was all your idea! We know everything.
A-Rod: No!
Hank: And we are the only ones who know.
A-Rod: What… what happened to Scott.
Hank: (swivles in chair) That’s not a mummy out there, Alex!
A-Rod: Noooooooo…
Several seconds pass.
Hank: Have you composed yourself? Our final offer is this: nothing. Not even the fee for the contract notarizing, which would appreciate if you put up personally.
A-Rod: Wow, that sounds familiar.
Hank: It’s from The Godfather 2.
George: Wonderful film. Michael has his brother killed. Ruthless. I love it.
Hank: Yes.
George: Where is Hal, again?
Hank: Our work here is done, dad. You can go back to playing crazy again.
George: What?
Hank: Excellent.
A-Rod: One problem. The union will never let me play for free.
Hank: Good point. How about $27.5 million per year, 8 years? With two option years?
A-Rod: Like my old contract?
Hank: Exactly.
A-Rod: I’ll do it.
Hank: Alright, take four of these garbage bags and get the hell out of here.
A-Rod takes the bags and peers inside. They are full of money.
A-Rod: Thanks so, so much. You won’t regret this.
Hank: No Alex, we will not.
A-Rod turns to leave.
Hank: Oh, Alex. One more thing. Take off the cap.
A-Rod: That’s probably a good idea. (Takes off cap) Thanks, Boss.
George: What?
Hank: That’ll do dad. That’ll do.
November 14, 2007
Red Sox To Play In Japan: The Negotiation
The Red Sox agreed this week to open their season in Japan, owing likely to the international following of their two Japanese players, Dice-K and Hideki Okajima. It wasn’t an easy sell at first.
Bud Selig [on speakerphone]: Hey Theo, do you want to open the season in Japan?
Theo: No.
Selig: Are you sure? You have two Japanese players.
Theo: Really?
Selig: Yes.
Theo: I know.
Selig: And a translator.
Theo: I know. He plays a mean Jenga.
Selig: Really?
Theo: No.
Selig: I stink at that game.
Theo: Oh.
Selig: So how about it? You, me, some sake and Mongolian barbecue?
Theo: Mongolian barbecue isn’t Japanese. It’s Mongolian.
Selig: I’ll have to look at a map.
Theo: I’m not sure you do.
Selig: We’ll pay you extra. And you can be the home team.
Theo: We don’t want to be the home team.
Selig: You are a master negotiator.
Theo: You are an idiot.
Selig: Just in case things went sour, I brought Billy Beane in on this conference call to help out. He wants to play you guys over there.
Beane: Theeee-yo!
Theo: Hi Billy.
Beane: Hi.
Theo: Hi.
Beane: Soooo, do you want to…
Theo: No.
Beane: Hey man, you’re killing my high!
Theo: Are you high right now?
Selig: No.
Beane: What?
Theo: I’m not interested, Billy.
Beane: Come on, maaaaan. We’ll be the home team. No one here will even notice, man! Gotta spread the A’s vibe worldwide. You can feel it man, can’t you?
Theo: No.
Beane: Come on, maan! Don’t you remember when we were staring at the Pacific, asking, like, “What if there was baseball, like, overseas?”
Theo: Uhhhh, “no…”
Beane: Or that other time, at Sully’s?
Theo: Uhhhh… no…
Beane: Are you sure?
Theo: Uh…
Beane: You little snot, you wouldn’t have that job if it wasn’t for me. I own you. Now say yes like a good little boy.
Selig: Th…
Beane: Shut up, Bud. Say yes, Theo.
Theo: Yes.
Beane: That wasn’t so hard, was it?
Theo: No.
Beane: Good. It’s your turn.
Theo: My turn to what?
Beane: Shut up, Theo. It’s your turn.
Selig: [crashing noises]
Beane: Jenga!
Selig: Dammit.
Theo: Dammit.
Bryan Joiner 