Across the wire, I saw that the Spurs landed Nick Van Exel. I’m ecstatic. Sure he’s old and his knees may be shot, but I don’t care. He can light it up in limited time. Rest assured, with Big Shot Rob, Manu, and Nick the Quick, the Spurs will NEVER miss a game winner this year.
How come no one ever attacks Roger Clemens claiming he took steroids like they do Barry Bonds?
Barry gets it all the time, yet Clemens has more than tripled in size since his playing career began. Seriously, hes put on as much weight as Barry over his career. Their heads are at least twice as big as early in their careers.
There are claims about Barry because he shouldnt be able to perform at the high level at his age. Roger is older and better than he has ever been. And Rogers throwing just as hard as he ever did.
Roger gets the benefit of the doubt because he goes down as one of the hardest workers in the MLB. Yet, Barry works as hard, or harder than any player in the league to stay in peak physical condition.
Barry never had the power early in his career. Barry was also a free swinger who relied on his speed when he was in
Pittsburgh, and over time he developed his patience. He also had the time to work with Bobby Bonds and Willie Mays full time in San Francisco. He honed his skills after he got to San Francisco. The power and potential were always there, and everybody always knew it. Watching him in Pittsburgh, it was clear that he was an extremely special talent.
Sure Barry has been linked to Balco. But Roger spent a few years playing out of Canada and lives in Texas. Both places have extremely easy access to steroids. It is also important to recognize that Roger was struggling his final years in Boston and still didnt have great, and by great I mean Clemens-like numbers. And hell, at this point, every player should be linked to steroids as far as Im concerned.
Others will say that Roger doesnt look like hes taken roids, because he looks like he might have some fat on him. Barry doesnt look that way. Dont come at me with that lame argument. Barry has a hobby of being a bodybuilder. He lifts not only to maintain a peak condition, but also to sculpt his body. Clemens workouts are solely for performance. You can be in peak physical condition and not be ripped up. Ive been on teams with plenty of guys who work out harder than everybody else, but because they focus their routine on getting ready for games. Hence, they dont look like some of the benchwarmers who work out, as we called it, for cosmetic purposes.
Barry gets flack because hes a jerk. Well, Roger has been one over the years.
Maybe its because Barry is chasing a ghost. Sort of 61* like.
No one has ever been able to do what Barry has done. Do you think anybody will ever have an ERA in this era as low as Roger when they play their games in a little league ballpark?
Is it the race card? Barrys black and Roger isnt. That much is obvious. Im a middle-class white kid, so I have no idea if that is true.
This post doesnt exist because I like Barry Bonds and dont like Clemens. I actually like both players, because of what they have done in their careers. My admiration for them is based purely on what Ive seen in between the lines. Neither of them will ever come close to being in my top 5 or even 10 players of all time.
1. Eddie Murray & Will Clark
2. Ryne Sandberg
3. Cal Ripken
4. George Brett
5. Nolan Ryan
6. Dale Murphy
7. Fred McGriff
8. Willie Mays (never saw him play, only seen highlights. That was all I needed.)
9. Andy Van Slyke & Craig Biggio
10. David Ortiz (cant help but love the guy)
Im not trying to accuse Clemens by any means. Im just wondering why pitchers have been getting free passes while hitters have been attacked. Take a look at the number of pitchers who have tested positive for banned substances. Roger is as likely a candidate as Barry. This is more of an attack on the media to get off one mans back, especially when he isnt even playing. Report the news. When someone tests positive, report it. Im just tired of the Barry attacks.
This past weekend, we held our annual BFL fantasy draft. I was going to keep a running diary pick-by-pick, which would have been extremely funny, but I was drinking Lone Star Light (brought back from
San Antonio, TX) the whole time while drafting for myself and playing the drafting agent of another person. So Im only going to give a quick re-cap.
SIDEBAR: This was the second year I had to play the drafting agent for someone who couldnt be there, and I highly recommend not EVER doing that. It creates a serious conflict of interest, and if the person missing is anything like the person I drafted for on Saturday, they will be calling you every 30 seconds totally interrupting your train of thought. It really is a pain in the neck (or another part of the anatomy that rhymes with class).
Quick recap of the draft:
We have a lottery system of drawing playing cards ace through queen for the drafting order. Ace is the first pick. The lottery begins with the first person drawing a card landing the first pick. Im not worried because hes 90% retarded.
As the defending champ, I get to draw cards last and end up landing the ninth spot. Already having a target on my back, the others start dogging me, and saying Im not making the playoffs. If I could have found a championship belt at the Dollar Store, this would have been the point that I hoist it up for all to see. Alas, couldnt find one. It would have been funny though.
The draft begins and I sit eagerly waiting as Priest Holmes, yes the same Priest Holmes who has led the league in touchdowns for three years, continues to slide. (Let it be known that most law students dont know a damn thing about fantasy football.) Tears well up in my eyes as Priest is taken one pick before me. He slipped to eighth. This is why Im not worried about picking ninth, well that and the fact that I eagerly pick up Willis MaGahee with my first pick. Picking for the other person, who was eleventh out of twelve, I lock up Domanick Davis and Kevin Jones (I had mistakenly disclosed the fact that K. Jones averaged over 6 yards per carry in the last six games last year.)
Still sitting cool, I select Rudi Johnson as my second running back. Im already planning my back-to-back championship parade.
The G.M. in the five spot is getting the TV Face Time Award that goes to the guy who takes forever to figure out who he is going to pick, much like the guy in the World Series of Poker who pauses for a spell before every play. Hes the reason we instituted a time limit for picks this year. Much like the person selecting first, Im not worried about this guy. He went into the draft claiming he was only going after running backs. At the end of the day, he was walking around asking if anybody would trade running backs to him. Last year, he dealt Marvin Harrison for Kevan Barlow and a pack of smokes. Isaiah Thomas wouldnt even have made that trade.
With my next two picks I nab Andre Johnson and Nate Burleson. I chose Burleson over Larry Fitzgerald with the slim hope that he will slip to me 16 picks later in round 5. The picks roll by and Fitz keeps sliding. Sure enough, my roommate with the pick right before me grabs . . . you guessed it . . . Larry Fitzgerald. I cant blame him for taking Priest, but why does he have to take my third favorite NFL player (Priest is #2, after all I got to work out with him and hes from San Antonio. Other than Brett Favre, #4 in your programs, but #1 in your hearts, and my old teammate Jerheme Urban, no one else really makes the favorite player list.)
Distraught and upset by this turn of events, I choose to lock down a starting QB, and pick up Kerry Collins. Sure theres a chance hell throw 20 picks, but with Moss, Porter, and Curry hes bound to light up the scoreboards. The picks roll back to me, and since Im from the school of always having a receiver that is on the team of your fantasy QB I select Jerry Porter. (Last year I had Culpepper and Nate Burleson.)
The back-to-back championship parade is officially slated to begin on Goddard Avenue, head down Eastern Parkway back up Fourth Street into the downtown party scene, through Broadway, and ending at Bardstown Road for pubs in the Irish District.
People start picking up defenses waaaaay to early, so I have to grab the Eagles in round 7. I hesitantly grab Michael Bennett with my next pick. After all, its a contract year, maybe he wont get hurt, maybe hell return to his old form of a couple of years ago. Oh, by the way, as of today, hes hurt, which is why I just added Mewelde Moore to my squad (couldnt believe he was a free agent).
After round eight, we have to take a break because the natives are getting restless. I think all of us take a moment to call our significant others to say that we have just recently started the draft, and it is going to be a couple of hours.
In round 9, someone has the nerve to ask if Donovan McNabb is available. Of course, he was picked over an hour ago, so this G.M. goes to his next pick, Ahman Green (coincidentally, Green was picked around the same time as McNabb). This pick took like 20 minutes with the G.M. ultimately getting flustered and taking Eric Shelton.
Im anxiously awaiting my next pick to land my starting tight end who will have many touchdowns this year. Of course, I am ready to call out my pick as soon as the Senator (my roommate who has already cut the legs out from underneath me twice) when he makes his choice . . . L.J. Smith. Ouch. Again. Un-friggin-believable. He did it a third time. From here on out, Im writing down random names in case Senator was somehow seeing my picks when I was getting up to talk to the out of town team owner. Scrambling to pick up a starting tight end, I grab Jake Delhomme instead, only because I knew he wouldnt make it back to me. I was going to have to pick him for the other guy.
I finally land a starting tight end by picking Eric Johnson. After that point, things started to get fuzzy because Bruce was calling me every 10 seconds to see what running backs were left. I really wanted to fight him for annoying me, but he was four hours away. My only other steals were Jerramy Stevens who is poised to have a breakout year for a tight end, and Jeff Wilkins (best kicker available when morons start picking kickers in round 5).
All in all it was a good day, Collins, MaGahee, Rudi Johnson, Andre Johnson, Nate Burleson, and Jerry Porter should all have solid seasons to once again return the Cobra Kai to glory. Late sleeper pick of Jerome Bettis and Reggie Williams (Jacksonvilles number two wideout) could end up paying huge dividends as well.
We closed the day with beer, a game of Bocce Ball, and then some bean bag toss (horseshoes without the dangerous metal. Keep in mind weve been drinking all day. I wouldnt trust half these guys with horseshoes when theyre sober, much less inebriated.)
After all as the fantasy gem. in charge of the Cobra Kai, I say to myself, youre the best around . . . nothings gonna ever keep ya down.
If you dont know what that quote is, go watch Karate Kid and listen to the soundtrack.
There are still some interesting happenings going on in the free agent market, and it all appears to center around Finley. Several quality teams are making a run at him, and Damon Jones won’t know where he is going until after Fin makes a decision. Either Damon is back in Miami next season or he will be with LeBron for the future. That’s a tough decision, but I think Finley will ultimately make it for him. If Fin goes to Miami, the Heat won’t have the money to offer Damon Jones, so he will bolt for King James’ land. If Fin joins the Spurs or Suns, (obviously I think he should join the Spurs for the immediate gratification of a title run alongside Duncan), then Damon will return to Miami. I really don’t know where Finley will go. The Heat and Spurs have starting rosters set, while Phoenix offers the shot at a starting spot. The Heat also have the most money to offer. Only Fin-dog knows at this point.
In the meantime, Phoenix continues to add depth to their roster by adding James Jones. While spending his early career predominantly in obscurity, he blossomed at times last year when he got big minutes. He should get plenty of time in Phoenix’s running system because he can play three positions. Jones, Jimmy Jackson, and Raja Bell could all rotate positions giving each other and Shawn Marion rests. Jones has more range and speed than Jimmy Jack, but doesn’t have the strength and mid-range game Jackson has. Bell plays better defense than both of them, so it will be interesting to see how this trio plays together.
I really like what
Minnesota did by obtaining Marko Jaric for Sam Cassell. Cassell has looked like he is on his last leg with the severity of his injuries over the past two seasons. Jaric on the other hand is a big point guard. Having Jarics size at the point will free up time for Troy Hudson to run some minutes at the two spot. Huddy is an extremely lethal shooter as he showed two seasons ago, and seemed poised to break out as a tremendous scoring threat, before the additions of Cassell and Spreewell. Despite the injuries, he still has some good mileage left, and should have a quality season this year. The loss of Cassell does eliminate some clutch shooting, but it also takes the ball away from a point guard with the tendency to shoot too much. Jaric should create a more free-flowing offense, which I think ruined the T-Wolves last year costing Flip his job. If Jaric can stay sober, seriously he looks wasted all the time, then the Wolves added a serviceable point guard.
The Clippers are getting a proven winner who has the guts to take shots. With Sam-I-Am and Cat Mobley, however, the shots will be flying. Sam-I-Am should also help the development of Livingston. It always helps to have a player with guts and grit to lead the way for the developing young superstar. Of course, Sam has always been a strange dude, but he has a couple of rings to counter that. When was the last time someone in Clipperdom had that to offer?
While talking about point guards, how come Damon Jones cant get any love? He had an atrocious game 7, but he didnt have D.Wade to control the ball most of the time. He was put in a position he didnt have to play for the entire season. He was asked to do too much. He needs to be on a team with a superstar who controls the ball and distributes to players for open jumpers. There are seven teams that have that to offer: Phoenix (Nash/Amare), San Antonio (Timmy), Miami (Shaq/Wade), Cleveland (LeBron), Lakers (Kobe), Houston (T-Mac/Yao), and New Jersey (Kidd). Automatically remove Phoenix, Houston, and New Jersey because they have too many point guards/shooting guards already. The Lakers and San Antonio are strapped for cash and need players at other positions. That leaves Miami and Cleveland. Miami has already given the reigns to Jason Williams. Wow, look at where Damon should go: Cleveland! LeBron and Hughes are slashers and distributors and the team still needs three point shooting. Umm, I think thats a perfect fit. I havent checked the financial situation, but Im thinking theyve got enough left to give him some cheddar.
Im hoping that Finley will be willing to come to S.A. Its doubtful, but theres always hope. I see him re-uniting with his boy Nashty in Pahoenix making the Suns the biggest beneficiaries of the Amnesty provision. They already added Brian Grant to give breaks to Kurt Thomas and Amare.
After spending a glorious week loungin’ in San Antonio, I’m back in the ‘Ville for the final year of law school. I never thought that I would be glad to be back in school, but after the way I worked this summer combined with the fact that I’m in the final year of school, EVER, I’m pretty stoked about the whole process. Obviously, I’m excited about this because I just used the word stoked. Apparently I’m going to start writing about the X-Games or something.
Since I’ve been absent for most of this summer, I plan on returning with a vengeance in the coming weeks.
How about the fact that the Knicks kept Allan Houston? But what’s more amazing is the fact that someone signed Jerome Williams to that absurd contract. Holy cow. He’s a 5 and 5 guy, and he’s nowhere near as lovable as Malik Rose.
Before I continue with my discussion of the NBA, I’ve got to continue talking about the MLB and the mess that it has become. The game has become a travesty with steroids, escalating contracts, carnival ballparks, $200 million rosters, the Royals and Pirates barely even existing, everything that Manny Ramirez does, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
When I was a freshman in college, one night, while extremely bored, I penned what the game meant to me. I still love the game of baseball, I just wish the teams in the MLB played it.
The following is the first version I wrote back then, but I fell inclined to change it because of the cloud hanging over Mark McGwire.
Here is the original:
I sit here with the Ironman
number 8 posted on my wall,
he was perfection for so long
by simply hitting a ball.
They say Diamonds are forever
that cannot be more true,
we all know those damn Yankees
in pinstriped, navy blue.
These men may be but mortals
playing on a field,
but what they do for us
is something so unreal.
Some say its just a game
but there’s more to it than that.
The memories last forever
like the 70 by Big Mac.
One day I will have a son,
and I will raise him the same.
For there is nothing so beautiful
As the Love for the Game.
The following is the updated version:
I sit here with the Ironman
number 8 posted on my wall,
he was perfection for so long
by simply hitting a ball.
They say Diamonds are forever
that cannot be more true,
we remember all those damn Yankees
in pinstriped, navy blue.
These men may be but mortals
playing on a field,
but what they do for us
is something so unreal.
Some say its just a game
but there’s more to it than that.
The memories last forever
like the Wizard’s glove and Ted Williams’ bat.
One day I will have a son,
and I will raise him the same.
For there is nothing so beautiful
As the Love for the Game.
This has been looooooooooong overdue, and it probably won’t be the last time I talk about this. I grew up in an extremely sports heavy environment. My dad was an incredible athlete, and, if you travel to a tiny town just north of Louisville, Ky, you may still hear of his sporting exploits. My mom was a tremendous athlete as well, and I often heard stories of her being the all-time quarterback during saturday afternoon football games, because she threw better than the boys. She also was the only girl allowed to run track at her Catholic school. My brother was and is still considered by me to be the best defensive second baseman I’ve ever seen, not named Sandberg of course.
Our family sport growing up was baseball. That was the sport of choice that trumped all else. It was also my best sport growing up. After all, there ain’t much room for a 6′1” white boy with limited hops who plays in the post. (Although, nobody out boarded me in high school.)
I was taught at a very early age that when you play the game, you play it the right way. You play hard no matter what. You run the bases and you always get dirty. You go after every ball you can with reckless abandon. I adopted the motto growing up that “if you aren’t dirty, bleeding, or both, you didn’t play well.” I went through a wooden dugout fence at 16. I busted my knee open multiple times getting it stuck under a chain link fence sliding for pop fouls. I learned to do the splits at first base, so that I could stretch farther for every throw that was made. I ate dirt, no really, I seriously did. I talked to my bat, and treated it like a person. Whenever I got a new baseball glove, it was like a gift from the Heavens. I kept it under my pillow at night. Baseball was my love and my passion.
That all changed when I got to college. The game changed. It was all about homeruns. We played games with scores that were so high, USC’s football team couldn’t have outscored our games. The MLB changed too. It also adopted the homerun game. Nobody, on any level played defense. Nobody knew how to run the bases. The appreciation for a beautiful slide around a tag-when-the-throw-already-beat-you was gone. Steroids became the Big League Chew/sunflower seed/chaw of the 90’s. If you weren’t doing it, you weren’t trying hard enough.
There’s a reason baseball is now #3 in my heart. The beauty and passion of the game is gone. I’m calling out all players on this one, and I’m starting with Raffy Palmiero. He had such a beautiful swing. It was a work of art. He was no Will Clark, Eddie Murray or George Brett, but in my heart, nobody was. After his denials at the Congressional Hearing, I thought, maybe his game was real. He loved baseball too much to cheat on it. But now, he’s tested positive for some heavy stuff. I was trying to love baseball again, and then this happened after he hit 500 homers and 3,000 hits. But the positive test was before hit 3,000.
I watched the Hawk and Ryno every day during the summertime. I was overjoyed when Will Clark or Fred McGriff were on the Saturday telecasts or ESPN Sunday Night Games. I stayed up waaaay past my bedtime every night to catch Baseball Tonight (arguably the greatest television show of my childhood). The Orioles were fighting for first six weeks ago, and I was loving the game again. Now I can’t bear to go through 734 - 744 on the DirecTV Extra Innings Package.
During Ryno’s acceptance speech, he talked about respect for the game. He talked of the importance of knowing how to bunt, run the bases, turn a double-play. He talked about everything that mattered to the little boy in my heart that still thinks he could have played big league ball if he had the right opportunities, if someone could have seen the ecstacy he felt every time he put on a glove and cap.
STOP PISSING ON MY GAME. STOP KILLING A CHILDHOOD THAT WAS SO GREAT.
The moratorium gets lifted and everybody loses their minds. GM’s making trades just for the sake of trading. I have no idea what Memphis is doing. Haven’t got a clue why Joe Johnson wants to be a Hawk. Couldn’t begin to fathom why in the heck the Jazz would want Ostertag. Raul Lopez is being traded just so he can be waived. The Jazz have given up on four straight first round picks. The Heat just added three (depending on your opinion on this matter) quality players for one over-the-hill starter. The Cavs still don’t have a point guard. (By the way Raul Lopez is being waived.) Damon Jones can’t find a job, and about 70% of the league needs help at the point guard position. Brian Scalabrine, yes that Brian Scalabrine got a $15 million deal. Of course that’s cheap compared to what Brian Cardinal (who may or may not be the same person) got last year. Orlando lost its first round pick to a Euro team. Toronto, not to be outdone by Orlando couldn’t sign Roko Ukic to fight for the starting point guard spot. And Golden State looks like it has a team that could compete with Phoenix to win the Pacific. Amazingly enough, none of the craziness I just listed has anything to do with Isiah Thomas. Holy Shnikes.
