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Jul 31, 2008

Manny traded to the Dodgers and no, I'm not being funny this time

In case you haven't heard, the Red Sox actually dealt Manny Ramirez before today's trade deadline, but his destination wasn't Florida, as originally thought. Manny is now a Dodger, which is stunning since the Los Angeles Times reported in today's paper that about as much dealing as the Dodgers expected to do was to try to get Greg Maddux. This is, to put it mildly, much bigger.

First, I didn't think this would happen, period. It seems like Manny's been perpetually almost traded every season, with the media saying something like "unlike last season, when they were able to patch their differences, there's really no going back this time - the relationship is too broken to continue and Red Sox have to trade Manny Ramirez ." And then every year they don't trade him, and everyone goes about their business as he proceeds to get hotter than hell in September and October and mash the ball all over the place.

But I guess the fact that he wasn't coming back next season meant that the Red Sox had all the incentive they needed to make this deal work. And frankly, they made out like bandits. Looking at the numbers for this season, Jason Bay's production is almost equal to Manny at the plate this season. Plus, he's six years younger and locked up through the end of next year at a fraction of what Manny is making. It's a no-brainer.

And for the Pirates? Well, they get prospects. A lot of prospects. But they desperately need depth - the fact that several of the other team's Triple A prospects are going to start right away tells you all you need to know about them.

But what about the Dodgers? What are they getting out of this? Since the Red Sox are paying a bulk of Manny's contract for this season, there isn't a money problem. But, they had to give up Andy LaRoche, who was the No. 1 future option at the sinkhole that has been third base for the Dodgers. (Unless they plan on re-signing Casey Blake, which they may have to after this deal.)

There's no question that they get a premier hitter, even at 36. After all, as ESPN shouts at me seemingly every day, he is ONE OF THE TOP FIVE RIGHT-HANDED HITTERS OF ALL TIME! But they've also added to a position where they already have about 27 options, and made their defense significantly worse no matter what they do.

The logical outfield at this point would be (I guess) Manny in LF, Matt Kemp in CF and Andre Ethier in RF. Which means Andruw Jones and Juan Pierre are riding the pine. Which makes sense from a baseball standpoint, since the only thing more absymal than Pierre's OBP is Jones'...well, everything. But that also means that you lose good defense and speed, and have to play Matt Kemp out of position (he isn't a natural CF). Oh yeah, and you have $17 million in contracts sitting on the bench every night in those two players alone, and you didn't address the really key areas, like starting pitching and shortstop.

And the real bottom line is this: the Dodgers weren't going to win the World Series before this trade, and they really aren't good enough to win it now. It should be enough to put them past the Diamondbacks in the God-awful NL West, but so what? I know "anything can happen" in the post-season, but come on.

I suspect that Dodgers GM was feeling the heat after the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, California, USA made the bold move of trading Corey Kotchman for Mark Teixiaxairaiaxia even though they have a double-digit lead in the AL West and the best record in baseball. He had to make a blockbuster move in order to get the interest back on the Dodgers, and this sure does that job just fine.

Posted by The Duke of Everything 0 comments

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The Gruesome Collision of Sports and Entertainment: Magnum P.I. Edition

From time to time, athletes make guest appearances on TV shows. This doesn't happen as much anymore, and certainly not as much as the 1980s, when seemingly every kid making a big league roster got at least a guest spot on "Small Wonder" (I think it was in a collective bargaining agreement). Thank God for YouTube, which lets us relive the train wrecks that happen when entertainment and sports collide.

For example, here are the legendary Detroit Tigers double play combination of Alan Trammell and Lou Whitaker doing a guest spot on "Magnum P.I." with a haggard looking Tom Selleck. The spot makes sense, given the character's love to the Tigers. Too bad no one thought to find out of either of these guys could act:



As McLane pointed out, Trammell's necklace kicks all kinds of ass. And Lou Whitaker resembles LenDale White minus about 1,000 Quarter Pounders with Cheese.

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Red Sox trade Manny to Boston, hope he doesn't catch on

BOSTON - The Red Sox, ending weeks of speculation, traded disgruntled star Manny Ramirez to Boston today, hoping that the eccentric slugger wouldn't catch on that it's the same place.

The plan appeared to be working, as Ramirez told a throng of reporters that he was "very happy" to be heading to Boston, and "glad that the Red Sox granted his wish to leave."

"Like I said yesterday, I love the Red Sox fans but the team doesn't deserve me," Ramirez said as he was cleaning out his locker following the trade announcement. "I'm happy that I'm going somewhere like Boston, where they know how to win and treat players right."

Ramirez then asked reporters what the weather was like in Boston, and if he needed to bring a coat before continuing to remove items from his locker, including: a cactus, a Betamax player, a giant vat of mint jelly and his pet iguana Kaz.

Red Sox team officials informed Ramirez of the trade this morning. He had spent the night at the team offices, having had a sleepover with several friends in a make-shift tent made of old jerseys.

"We really had to sell it to him that he had been traded by the Red Sox to Boston," said an anonymous source in the Red Sox front office. "So we told him how difficult it would be to see him in a uniform other than the Red Sox, but that he was going to a team in Boston that was in the middle of a pennant race and that really needed him to play at 100 percent. He seemed excited about the opportunity, although mainly he kept asking me if he could wear my gorilla suit again. I mean...a gorilla suit."

Officials gave Ramirez a plane ticket that would take him from Logan Airport to Manchester, NH, where he would then be driven in a limo back into Boston. The plane will also stop over in Hartford, CT, "just to make it seem like he went far away."

There has been concern that Ramirez might get suspicious upon seeing the Green Monster upon his "arrival" at Fenway Park, and might start putting two and two together. In response, the Red Sox announced that they will be painting the wall slightly blue-green, and if that fails, telling Ramirez that he's just imagining things.

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Jul 30, 2008

The Inaugural Your Face is a Sports Blog Fan Fest is this Saturday in Phoenix

You heard right: due to popular demand, Your Face is a Sports Blog will be holding our first-ever Fan Fest this Saturday at Manzanita Speedway in Phoenix in conjunction with that night's sprint car racing. Both myself and fknmclane will be there, signing autographs and taking questions from the fans. We'll have prizes to give away* and there may even be some special guests.

Make sure you look for us at the Your Face is a Sports Blog booth at the parking lot outside of the track before the races. We'll be the ones covered in empty MGD cans!

*there are no prizes.

So yeah, I'm flying out to Phoenix this weekend to go to the sprint car races with fknmclane. He's never been, and I think he's pretty pumped about it. I hope that it's a good night of racing, and not a complete mess. The fact that I was told be the racetrack over the phone last night that racing had been cancelled, sending me into a downward spiral of depression, only to have fknmclane be told that no, racing was on this Saturday, doesn't bode well. But whatever - we're going to have a wild time, get into a lot of trouble, and have blog posts for weeks about it.

Note: Since I'm writing about the trip, it's now a business expense. Suck on it, IRS!

Posted by The Duke of Everything 2 comments

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The Greatest Sports Highlight Video Ever Created

We've all seen ESPN's Ultimate Highlight at some point in our lives, and while the editing is crisp and the plays are spectacular, the songs used are consistently awful. This is how it's done:



Catchy as all hell song + goofy highlights + 80's fashion = WINNER

UPDATE: The Duke has his panties in a bunch because "Centerfield > Walk of Life." I would agree wholeheartedly that the song and video are indeed better but Centerfield is all baseball and more of a look back at the golden age of the sport. As such...ah, fuck it, here's our President's favorite song, Centerfield, by John Fogerty:

Posted by McLane 2 comments

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Jul 29, 2008

Earthquake!!!

And no, not this guy. We just had a pretty decent jolt here in Southern California - a 5.8, centered about 45 miles away from downtown in Chino Hills. I'm on the 25th floor of a building on "rollers" - basically, it's designed to sway pretty significantly in order to minimize any structural damage. And it did sway - picture being in the cabin of a boat during a really bad storm, and that's about what it was like. Some girl at my friend Michael's office threw up because it was her first earthquake, and also because she is a girl.

Also, BLAARGHFHGH!!!

But seriously, I'm hearing sirens around my neighborhood, and while a 5.8 is big, it you wouldn't think that it would cause more than some minor structural damages. Still, I hope everyone out closer to the epicenter is OK.

And before anyone asks, no, this wasn't caused by Andruw Jones doing jumping jacks. There is no way his fat ass could even get off the ground.

Posted by The Duke of Everything 1 comments

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Favre ready to send in reinstatement letter as soon as he can find a damned stamp

GULFPORT, MISSISSIPPI - At a hastily-called press conference outside of his home, Brett Favre today announced that he had signed his letter asking the NFL for reinstatement, and that he planned on mailing it in as soon as he could find a stamp.

"I've turned this damned place upside down looking for a stamp, and I ain't got anything," Favre said. "Maybe if you reporters had one, maybe in your wallets or purses, that would be a big help."

Favre said he looked in every place in his house for stamps, as well as the glove compartments of his family cars. Although he was unsuccessful in finding stamps, Favre did find a Super Bowl in his kitchen junk drawer.

"I wonder which one this is?," Favre asked. "I bet it's the one against Atlanta - to tell you the truth, that win didn't mean all that much."

Favre said that he had even gone on the US Postal Service Web site, after his friend Bucky told him that you could buy postage there. However, after 45 minutes, Favre abandoned the attempt.

"It was pretty confusing - you had to feed the envelope into the printer a certain way for it to print the postage on, and I'm no good with that sort of thing," he said. "What if they print up the wrong postage, and it gets sent back to me. It's better if I can just find a stamp."

Hopes had been raised in the Favre household earlier in the morning when a stamp booklet was found in a bedroom dresser drawer. However, those hopes were quickly dashed when it was discovered that the booklet was empty.

Later in the afternoon, ESPN's Chris Mortensen reported that Favre had found a mostly full booklet of 29 cent stamps, but was unsure if using two of those stamps would cause the post office not to deliver it because of "over-postaging it." There were also unconfirmed reports that Favre had attempted to remove a stamp from a received envelope with steam.

Favre said that as a last resort he would go into town to buy a stamp at the post office. However, he was relucant to do so, as this would likely lead to his wife "having me run errands and do a bunch of shopping and stuff. Nag, nag, nag - why do you think I'm so desperate to come back?"

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Jul 28, 2008

How to best spend $9 at Chase Field

I give you, the Big Dogs.

Pretty little maids all in a row

From left to right, here are the gory details:
Chicago Dog: Served Chicago-style with a cucumber and pickle spears, tomato wedges, green relish, mustard, white onion, sport peppers and celery salt.

Wisconsin Dog?: note - this is a new one, and I'm not familiar with it, but it looks to have sauerkraut and fries on it.

Cincinnati Dog: Served with diced onions, jalapeƱo cheese, spicy chili and green jalapeƱos.

Arizona Dog: Served with nacho cheese sauce, chorizo sausage, and fresh corn tortilla strips.

Texas Dog: (TOP) Served with cheddar cheese, chopped bacon, signature barbeque sauce and crispy onion rings.

You might be saying to yourself, I ain't payin' no nine dollars for no hot dog, but really, when compared to the $8 paid for a 20oz. beer, a Big Dog is an absolute steal.

It's a whole lot of weenie. So much, a fork and knife are necessary.

Being that it's covered with your choice of unhealthy goodness, it's the most bang for you buck at Chase Field. I can't speak for the Arizona, Cincy, Wisconsin or Chicago dogs, but trust me when I say the Texas Dog is the real deal. Dare I say it shouldn't be messed with?

Drenched with both BBQ and cheese sauce and then topped with bacon (BACON!) and at least four giant onion rings, it's all I could ever ask for and more from an artery clogging casing of various meats.

If you're ever at Chase Field, be sure and make your way over to the Big Dog stand in the main concourse. It'll be the best $9 you'll ever spend at a ball game. You won't regret it.

That part comes later.

Posted by McLane 3 comments

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Jul 25, 2008

Albert Belle approves of this brawl

  • Tickets for you, your wife and two kids to a minor-league baseball game: $40.
  • Hot dogs, soda and popcorn for family: $35.
  • Getting drilled with a baseball thrown at 90 mph by a pissed off pitcher trying to chuck it into the other team's dugout during a brawl: Thousands of dollars of medical bills
  • Getting drilled with a baseball thrown at 90 mph by a pissed off pitcher trying to chuck it into the other team's dugout during a brawl: A six-figure settlement on your lawsuit just waiting to happen.
  • Getting drilled with a baseball thrown at 90 mph by a pissed off pitcher trying to chuck it into the other team's dugout during a brawl: Priceless.
If you didn't see it on SportsCenter or your local news last night, that's the souvenir that a lucky fan walked away from a game featuring a wild brawl between Dayton and Peoria thanks to Peoria pitcher Julio Castillo. And when I say "walked away from", I mean "was taken on a stretcher to the hospital from" which explains why Castillo got to spend the night in jail.

Here's a fan video of the brawl, complete with Castillo going nhuts for several minutes after the fight is over, and a bunch of mouthy, idiot fans who probably wouldn't be so loud if there wasn't a big screen separating them and the large, irate professional athlete. (Note: the fan is not only a loudmouth but also swears a lot, so NSFW if you are using speakers in the open:



Throwing a baseball at a fan should get you kicked out for life. Unless you are Albert Belle and a really good hitter, then maybe it should get you a few games supension.

Posted by The Duke of Everything 0 comments

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Jul 23, 2008

Philadelphia anchors continue to put the Action in Action News

You might remember former Alycia Lane. She's the former anchor for KYW-TV in Philadelphia who was...ahem...exposed to have sent (apparently unwanted) revealing pictures of herself in a bikini to NFL Network anchor Rich Eisen - which were intercepted by his wife, ABC sideline reporter Suzy Shuster. I use the term "former" since she was fired last December after getting into a punch-up with an off-duty cop in New York.

She's back in the news, but this time it appears that she's the victim rather than the protagonist. At the time the "bikini photos" story broke, no one really knew who leaked the story. Same goes for the details of her arrest. Turns out that it was none other than her co-anchor Larry Mendte, trying to ruin her career after become enraged and jealous that she was making more money than him and becoming a bigger local star. So he hacked into her e-mail account well over 500 times in a five month span and fed the information to a local reporter.

At this point, I'm half-expecting to find out that he Photoshopped some pictures and sent them around to the local media to prove that Lane was a smelly, pirate hooker. Of course, I'm not sure that Mendte has the common sense to correctly use Photoshop, based on how he was caught - another worker found her Yahoo e-mail account open one day at a work computer, despite the fact that she had been fired six weeks earlier. All of which triggered an investigation that eventually got the FBI involved.

But here's the question I have out of all of this: who the hell is running the HR department at KYW-TV? Apparently having a complete lack of morals, shame or interest in others is not a problem for working your way up the Philadelphia TV news field. All you need to do is be able to show up for work a couple of hours a day, lie through your teeth, and put up with living in Philadelphia in order to make the big bucks, even if you have to screw a lot of people over in the process.

All of which explains why Elton Brand is a such a good fit in Philadelphia. (I'll be here all night, folks!) I don't know who they've hired to replace these two anchors, but I'd start checking the coffee mugs and silverware in the commissary for cyanide.

Posted by The Duke of Everything 1 comments

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Jul 22, 2008

What got into the drinking water in Ohio this weekend?

To recap:

- Carson Palmer went on a Los Angeles radio show and basically ripped into Ohio St. ahead of the Buckeye's game against the Trojans this season, saying among other things that he "cannot stand the Buckeyes" and that he "just can't wait for two years from now when SC comes to the 'Shoe and hopefully we'll have a home game that weekend and I can go up there and watch us pound on them in their own turf." Now, I'm all for school spirit and adding a little bit of healthy bravado into a rivalry. Except for the small fact that Palmer plays professional football in Ohio, and not only are Ohio St. fans pretty, um, rabid, but they are tends to be a lot of overlap between Bengals fans and Buckeyes fans.

I've made a Venn diagram to help explain things:
























I hope this helps to clear up any confusion.

Assuming that Carson Palmer knows that in 2008, radio interviews in Los Angeles might make their way back to Cincinnati (and let's not totally assume this - after all, he apparently thought this ad was a good idea), this is not just a stupid interview; it's downright suicidal. It almost feels like he's so sick of playing with an underachieving bunch of felons and thugs in a place he hates, that he's decided to do whatever he can to make himself so hated that the Bengals have no choice but to trade him. And in Ohio, ripping the Buckeyes is a better way to ensure that you are hated than running a sack full of puppies through a wood chipper.

- Danica Patrick and Milka Duno got into a "catfight" at the Mid-Ohio track during a practice session before this weekend's IndyCar race. And by "cat fight" I of course mean "lots of finger wagging, yelling and then someone threw a towel at someone's face." There was no hair-pulling, clothes ripping of any kind, or even a remote hint of scissoring. Which is OK for me - Danica Patrick is kind of a two-face (sometimes looks great, sometimes looks like an angry little man), and Milka Duno looks like if you took Cesar Romero as The Joker from the old Batman TV series and put a set of huge fake cans on him.

Here's the video, if you are into that sort of thing. The set-up is during a practice session, Duno was driving with her usual complete lack of speed. Patrick was behind her and going much faster (and if Danica Patrick is that much faster than you on a road course, you are a terrible driver and should pretty much lose your racing license on the spot), and kept trying to pass her, except that Duno kept cutting her off.



Note the complete lack of interest by the all-male Citgo crew to do anything to stop the escalating tension, other than to make sure they were out of the way of the cameras. These are smart men.

- And finally...about 100 Columbus Crew fans rumbled with a dozen supporters of mid-level English Premier League team West Ham during an exhibition game on Sunday after the West Ham fans came over to the main Crew supporters' section. And who says that America can't embrace "the beautiful game" the way that they do in Europe. First we get Beckham, and now we have thuggish hooligans. Next we need rampant match fixing and corruption, and we'll be right there.

It should be noted that Carson Palmer is already furiously backpedaling from his anti-Ohio State comments. I imagine that he saw highlights of the soccer match and realized that the violent mob was likely heading for him next.

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Jul 21, 2008

Your 1990 Fantasy Football Preview

A few months ago, I was cruising the Compton Public Library (because that's how I roll), when I purchased a couple of literary gems for 25 cents each from their book sale. I'll get to the second one at another time, but for now I want to take you back to 1990, when fantasy football was scoffed at by most respectable people and left to the hardcore sports nerds. And if you wanted to get information to prepare you for your upcoming fantasy season, there was Internet for you to turn to with their pages of Big Boards, and you sure as shooting couldn't just head down to your local magazine rack to find a half-dozen in-depth preview magazines.

No, you had to track down books written by the early fantasy experts. These men were no Matthew Berry come latelies. These were the Wild West days of fantasy sports prognostication. The people who did devote themselves full-time to these endeavors were rugged individualists, blazing a new trail for lonely, obsessed sports fans everywhere. With nothing but steely determination, a bottle of rye and a stack of statistics the size of the US budget, these men lived rough lives, all in order to bring a very small percentage of the population their fantasy sports news. These were groundbreaking, risk-taking men. Men like...Cliff Charpentier.



Yup. Your "leading" fantasy football expert in 1990 was, in all likelihood, some sort of French-Canadian. As my partner McLane noted, that would explain the New Orleans Saint on the cover - he probably had a requirement to place a Saint on the cover every year, because of the deep, ethnic ties between the Quebecois and the Cajuns. (Alternate 1990 cover boy: Bobby Hebert!) You have every right to be skeptical of any fantasy football guide written by Cliff Charpentier, unless it's a CFL guide. I bet Cliff Charpentier was all over the Montreal Alouettes in 1990.

The first thing you'll notice is the cover boy, the "1989 Fantasy Player of the Year" - Saints RB Dalton Hilliard. Which blew me away - he was the 1989 version of Ladanlian Tomlinson? It seems ludicrous. But looking at his 1989 numbers, and they are pretty amazing: 1,776 total rushing and receiving yards and 18 total touchdowns. That's pretty impressive stuff, especially for someone on the freakin' Saints in 1989.

The back cover promises to answer many burning questions that fantasy players will have heading into the 1990 NFL season, including "Can Hilliard repeat his Saintly 1989 performance?" Allow me to answer that one for you: no. How does 409 total yards and one lousy touchdown strike you. All this for some that the esteemed Mr. Charpentier ranked as the No. 4 RB available in 1990.

Or No. 7, depending on which list you believe. Because way back in 1990 (a time when people still listened to, if you can believe this, cassette tapes!), there wasn't one method of scoring fantasy sports like we have now. Instead, French Charpentier listed rankings for the three most popular methods:

  • The Basic Scoring Method: players earn points for how many points they score during a game (six for a TD, three for a field goal, etc.) with no consideration for yardage gained.
  • The Performance Point Method: players earn points for yardage gained (one point for 20 yards rushing/receiving or 50 yards passing) with no consideration for points scored.
  • The Distance Scoring Method: some sort of Byzantine method of scoring which involves calculating points based on the yardage gained by each player for each scoring play. Even mathematicians at MIT are stumped by this method.

What we use today is a basic combination of the first two methods (the third one clearly having been created by French-Canadians set on secretly introducing the Metric system to unsuspecting NFL fans). Again, it blows my mind that even though it was all the way back in 1990 (when people only had 30 or 35 different cable channels - imagine!) no one had thought to combine the two methods. Or, that at least no one had informed Charpentier if they did. I honestly don't know - I was 14 at the time, and the only fantasy anything I did involved me locking myself in the bathroom with a stolen copy of my brother's Hustler magazines.

So how did the missing Fabulous Rougeau do with his 1990 selections. Let's take a look with the help of hindsight (and Pro Football Reference). I've averaged the rankings he had for the Basic Scoring and Performance Point Methods to get a sense of where he would rank them in today's, modern scoring method.

Top 5 Running Backs:

  1. Neal Anderson, Chicago Bears: After having gained 1,051, 1,477 and 1,709 yards over the past three seasons, Charpentier sees this climb "continuing as he remains the Bears' primary offensive weapon." And he had a very good year: 1,562 total yards and 13 TDs, both in the Top 5 in the NFL. Which makes you wonder if the Bears could convince Neal Anderson to come out of retirement - even today he'd be an upgrade over the slabs of meat they have running the ball.
  2. Barry Sanders, Detroit Lions: He was the 1989 Fantasy Rookie of the Year, and Charpentier boldy predicted that there was "no lid for his 1990 fantasy potential". No kidding. How about 1784 yards from scrimmage and an NFL-leading 16 touchdowns? Not bad for a second-year player.
  3. Eric Dickerson, Indianapolis Colts: Charpentier was willing to bet that Dickerson would rebound from the hamstring injury that "limited" him to 1,522 yards and eight touchdowns in 1989. Big mistake. Injuries weren't the problem in 1990 - it was attitude. He and the Colts engaged in a drawn-out, stupid feud that would led to him missing the first seven games and essentially killing his career. 769 yards and four TDs equals Frenchy Fuqua's first major gaffe.
  4. Dalton Hilliard, New Orleans Saints: As mentioned earlier, flame out city. Reuben Mays returned healthy in 1990 from the injuries that cost him the previous season, and Dalton HIlliard went back to being a reserve.
  5. Christian Okoye, Kansas City Chiefs: The "Nigerian Nightmare" was a nightmare for fantasy owners, with knee injuries limited his production in 1990 to 828 yards and seven TDs, down from 1,492 yards and 12 TDs a year before. This was also the season that Steve Atwater destroyed him on a Monday Night game with a hit that basically made Atwater's reputation as the game's pre-eminent heavy hitter and drove Okoye all the way to whatever the hell that Pirate Master TV show he did a few years ago.
Also of note: The leader in yards from scrimmage in 1990 was Thurman Thomas of the Bills, who also scored 13 TDs. Where did Charpentier rank him? Eighth, right behind Greg Bell and his 151 yards and one TD. Some fantasy owner made that call in the first round to take Bell over Thomas and was royally pissed.

Next time, we'll see how well our French friend did picking the QBs. Hint: Don Majkowski is in the Top 5. This is not a good sign.

Posted by The Duke of Everything 1 comments

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Meet the new Shark, same as the old Shark

Was there anything in sports this year as anti-climactic, yet as thoroughly expected as seeing Greg Norman throw up all over himself, bogey the first three holes of the final round of the British Open, and then fall gently into the night as Padraig Harrington took control by actually - gasp - shooting one-under for the round as everyone else was imploding left and right. It's almost as if he made some sort of deal with the Devil:

"Sure, you want one more chance to compete at the majors, just like you did 15 years ago? No problem, Greg. It will be just like it was for you at the majors back then. I promise..."

And just like it was in 1996 at the Masters, Greg Norman...well, I hate to use the word "choke", since maybe it's honestly asking too much to expect a 53 year-old to not fall apart after four brutal days of competition. But the collapse in the first few holes weren't just missed shots - they were complete mental breakdowns. It's one thing to decide "what the hell, I'm not even supposed to be near this leaderboard - might as well play loose and have fun." It's another thing to continue to spray the ball all over the rough with your driver when there's no damned good reason for it. Tom Watson (who knows something about working your way around links courses) sounded like he was about ready to come down from the ABC tower and wrap that fucking driver around Norman's neck every time he made an ill-advised choice to play driver when a long iron would have done just fine.

Still, lost in all of this is, you know, the guy who won the tournament? The same guy who won it last year? The same guy who didn't know until Thursday morning if his injured wrist would let him grip the club at all, much less play at a championship level? Yeah, Padraig Harrington. If Tiger Woods won a major dealing with a potential serious injury, wouldn't the media be making a much bigger deal out it than they did with Harrington's wi...

Never mind.

Posted by The Duke of Everything 2 comments

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Jul 16, 2008

Oscar Diaz update, and it isn't good news

According to ESPN.com, Oscar Diaz is unconscious and breathing with the assistance of a ventilator following surgery to reduce swelling in his brain following his collapse in his corner between the 10th and 11th rounds of his fight on ESPN2's Wednesday Night Fights against Delvin Rodriguez.

As I mentioned earlier, I was watching this fight as it all happened, having chosen to devote my viewing attention to this rather than the sideshow that James Toney vs. Hasim Rahman inevitably had to be (and was). This was a tough, competitive fight between two guys desperately trying to remain in the hunt for a title shot - Diaz had almost ended the fight in the 4th round with a crushing right hand that almost lifted Rodriguez off the floor, Rocky-style, but somehow Rodriguez avoided going down. From there, Rodriguez had used a steady diet of stiff jabs a straight rights to seize control of the fight. In fact, Diaz's right eye had steadily closed during the fight to the point that it was nothing more than a slit with a giant mouse underneath it by the 10th round. Still, he looked fresh at the end of the round and for all the world like he still had a chance to land a solid punch and turn the fight around.

In talking to my wife about this after the fight, she mentioned that this was precisely the reason she doesn't watch boxing, although she can watch MMA - the damage that is caused by taking shot after shot in a long, tough fight like this versus the more spectacular (but far less dangerous long-term) one-punch KOs in MMA. Her point was that what makes a "great" fight - two evenly matched fighters who trade big shots back and forth for a long period of rounds - is also what is most likely to lead to significant damage, either short-term (like tonight) or long-term.

I didn't really have any response to offer in boxing's behalf. Mainly I was too busy feeling a little sick to my stomach, thinking back to the live shots I watched of the paramedics swooping in on him and administering emergency medical techniques on him before the cameras cut away. Nights like tonight make me wonder if I have a screw loose for being a boxing fan.

On a side note: I watched SportsCenter, ESPN News and the various ESPN tickers for several hours after the fight, assuming that somewhere they would have some mention of the fight and an update on Diaz's condition. And...nothing. If ESPN is going to broadcast the fight, then they have an obligation to keep their audience informed about Diaz's condition during the night. Even saying something to the effect of "Diaz was taken to a local hospital; his condition is currently unknown" would have at least been acknowledgment of the severity of the situation. But I guess that we wouldn't have room for our 85th Brett Favre update of the night if we made time (or space on the ticker) for that...

Posted by The Duke of Everything 4 comments

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A bad scene for Oscar Diaz

As I type this, welterweight Oscar Diaz is being carried out of the ring on a stretcher after collapsing between the 10th and 11th rounds of a brutal fight with Delvin Rodriguez on ESPN2's Wednesday Night Fights. They played the footage and audio of Diaz, whose right eye had closed from constant punishment, staggering around like a drunken sailor before mumbling and collapsing to the ring ropes. It's truly one of the most frightening things I've ever seen.

I have a bad feeling in my stomach right now.

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NFL is pretty sure Peyton Manning is a Crip

NEW YORK - NFL officials, reviewing past game film for the possible use of gang signs by players, today announced that they are pretty sure that they saw Peyton Manning flash a sign of allegiance to the Kitchen Crips, a powerful gang in South Central Los Angeles, during a game last year against the Cleveland Browns. But at the same time, they conceded that he might have just been signaling for an audible.

"During the third quarter, Manning made a hand motion that is similar to the symbol for the Kitchen Crips," said NFL vice president of security Milt Ahlerich. "Then again, we were watching the game from a CBS tape that was not HD, so it was kind of hard to tell. He might have been telling Dallas Clark to run a hot route. It's kind of hard to say."

Reached at his Indianapolis home, Manning laughed off of suggestion that he was a member of the Kitchen Crips.

"Me, a member of the Crips?" Manning said. "That's crazy - I really have heard everything. No, I'm not a member of the Crips, and I never would be."

Manning proceeded to end the brief interview by stabbing the reporter to death and carving "MS 13" into his chest, a mark of the Mara Salvatrucha gang from Central America.

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Jul 15, 2008

Cynical days

I guess this is a sign of how bitter and cynical I've become as a sports fan: as I'm sitting at home watching Josh Hamilton put on his ferocious display of power last night at the Home Run Derby, my first thought wasn't about what a great bit of personal redemption this was, or even the more primal "Wow, he hits the ball hard." My first gut instinct was this:

"Boy, this is sure going to suck when we find out in two years that he's been using HGH."

Now, keep in mind that I have no reason to suspect that Josh Hamilton has been using performance-enhancing drugs of any kind (other than his past history with drug drugs, I suppose). But, let's face it, it's hard for me to get too excited about this.

Why?

Rick Ankiel. Mark McGwire. Barry Bonds. Floyd Landis. Marion Jones. And on and on.

And that's a shame, but Hamilton does have a great story - for anyone who has had a friend or family member deal with substance abuse (that is to say, basically everyone), it's heartening to see someone come back from the edge, so to speak. And you'd like to think that someone with Hamilton's past would want to make it on his terms, free of any performance-enhancing substances.

But this is what being a sports fan in 2008 is: waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was like me watching USC basketball last season, and just waiting for the phrase "OJ Mayo" and "NCAA investigation" to pop up in a story at some point. It's the perpetual tension in your shoulders because you can never just relax and enjoy what's happening. Unfortunately, this is the legacy of the Mitchell Report and the myriad of steroid scandals.

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Jul 14, 2008

Dear Bret Favre

Stop it! Seriously, fucking stop it! I've been laid up in bed dealing with the effects of a bad reaction to a tetanus shot (don't ask), and this is all I've heard or seen. So stop it and just go away! Now all of my friends and family are calling me and asking my opinion about you, like I care. And I don't. No one outside of Green Bay wants to see you play next year, and even they are getting at the end of their ropes. You're turning into the NFL's Roger Clemens, except replace "HGH" with "painkillers". Just leave! Go! Shoo! Shoo!

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Jul 9, 2008

Kenyan distance runners make sprint champ feel inadequate

NAIROBI - Sitting in the locker room, Paul Ochuka should have been thrilled - he had just qualified for the 2008 Beijing Olympics by winning the 100 meter dash at the Kenyan Olympic Trials. But all he says he felt was shame and embarrassment thanks to repeated, spirit-crushing teasing by Kenya's contingent of elite distance runners.

"When I got back to my locker, there was a note attached to it," Ochuka said. "I was hoping it was going to be a congratulatory note, but I should have known better. It simply said "Way to run a whole 100 meters, pussy.' It was unsigned, but I have a good idea about who did it."

Ochuka said that the constant teasing and hazing have only heightened a gnawing feeling of what he calls "inadequacy" over the relative short distances he runs versus the long distances that Kenya's more famous track athletes run.

"Everyone says 'Oh, why should we care if you can run 100 meters in 10 seconds - try running for 10,000 meters and then we can talk'," he said. "No one cares about being The Fastest Man in Kenya, just The Man in Kenya Who Can Run a Very Long Distance the Fastest."

Ochuka added that Kenyan track and field officials have not helped the cause, giving little priority to sprint races. For example, the finals of the 100 meter dash at the Olympic Trials were held in between laps of the 5,000 meter quarterfinals, with sprinters asked to come onto the front stretch, run, and head back to pick up their starting blocks before the distance runners finished their lap.

Kenyan Track & Field Federation president Martin Oboye refused to comment, since he "could not believe" that Kenya actually had sprinters.

Despite the lack of support from other track athletes and fans in Kenya, Ochuka said he was proud to be able to represent his country in the Olympics by marching into Beijing's Olympic stadium with his fellow athletes.

"Unless they do what they did at the African Games," he said, referring to the prank where the team parked their bus 10 miles away from the stadium and ran there. "I'm not running that far again - this time I'll take the bus or something."

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Jul 8, 2008

Quick hits

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Statuatory thinking: Ideas for alternative baseball stadium statues

Yesterday the Los Angeles Times ran an interesting story about statues at baseball stadiums (not the kind found on the field, like Miguel Cabrera). The story talked about why statues are a perfect match to commemorate great players, and listed screw-ups real (only the Cubs would have a typo on their statue) and not (yes, Babe Ruth was a lefty, and yes the statue in Baltimore shows him with a righty catcher's mitt, but that is actually historically accurate - catcher's mitts were all righty at that time).

A sidebar story talked about the fact that there are no statues at Dodger Stadium, and the possibility that one or more might be added. They spoke with Howard Cole of BaseballSavvy.com site, who has been pushing for a statue of Sandy Koufax to go up at Dodger Stadium for years. And while I have nothing but respect for Sandy Koufax, he somehow isn't "iconic" enough for me. Because more than anything else, a statue should symbolize something - it is the physical embodiment of what you think of when you think of someone or something.

So I started to ask myself what the perfect statue would be to represent the Los Angeles Dodgers at Dodger Stadium. If I just closed my eyes and thought "Los Angeles Dodgers", what immediate associations did I have.

A few ideas came to mind:

  • Steve Garvey surrounded by children - dozens and dozens of children
  • A fan in a Raiders hat and Dodgers jersey pouring beer on a 6 year-old wearing a Giants hat
  • Jackie Robinson in Heaven, watching Al Campanis on God's TV and weeping
  • Fred Claire giving Pedro Martinez a handshake and a plane ticket to Montreal

But the one thing that symbolized the Dodgers, more than anything else, would be this: Tommy Lasorda, naked except for a towel barely covering his sweaty midsection, at the post-game buffet filling his plate with mounds of linguini while screaming profanities at the clubhouse boys. It's a mental image I picked up while reading John Feinstein's "Play Ball" several years ago, and no amount of therapy has been able to scrub it from my memory. (Perhaps a more accurate statue would have two sides - one with Lasorda smiling and hugging kids, while the other had him foaming at the mouth about Dave Kingman - but I disgress.)

The whole exercise got me thinking about what statues should be outside of other stadiums. Not even Rodan's "Thinker", Michaelangelo's "David" or John Heisman's "Trophy" will have the power to move people that these monuments will have:

Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim: Although it would be relevant to recognize today's fans with a statue of a family holding a map of Los Angeles with a look of great confusion while trying to find Angels Stadium, nothing symbolizes the majority of the team's history more eloquently than a bronze statue of Donnie Moore holding a shotgun.

St. Louis Cardinals: Although a giant bottle of andro would be a perfect symbol for the Mark McGwire era, and a bust of Tony Larussa's bleary, drunken eyes from his mug shot would have quiet dignity, nothing would be more appropriate than a statue of the Cardinal's greatest base stealer, Vince Coleman. Of course, in order to ensure that no rusting or other damage would occur from rain, the statue would need to be mangled under a tarp at all times. (Note: I really like the idea of all toilets having a statue of Joaquin Andujar behind them smashing it to bits with a baseball bat, but this might not be doable.)

Baltimore Orioles: My first thought was to have Tony Tarasco frozen in time, pointing up to Jeffrey Maier and appealing to Richie Phillips for the interference call that never came, a more fitting tribute to the "Spend a Lot, Win Little" Orioles is the Eternal Money Flame, a giant dollar sign similar to an Olympic torch, except that it is perpetually fed by $100 bills.

Boston Red Sox: A statue of Wade Boggs passed out in a plane seat covered in dozens of empty beer cans and fried chicken legs is a great visual. And nothing would summarize the prickly nature of the greatest player ever to wear a Red Sox jersey than an action statue of Ted Williams clocking a reporter. But to my mind, the choice has to be of Curt Schilling, meticulously applying a paint brush to his sock before Game 6 of the 2004 ALCS. After all, the team's name is "The Red Sox" and it's also Schilling's only chance to be immortalized in such a way - it's not like he's getting a bust at Cooperstown. Plus, you could probably save on upkeep as he would almost certainly be there to polish and clean the statue every day to make sure it received maximum attention.

New York Yankees: They have enough statues, thanks. But if we have to create a new one for them, let it be Billy Martin snapping his own pitcher's (Ed Whitson) arm in a bar fight.

Toronto Blue Jays: I haven't worked out how you would make a statue of that couple "enjoying themselves carnally" in the hotel room in centerfield at the SkyDome with the windows open during a game (some sort of diorama?). So the choice here is former manager Tim Johnson, carrying three of his fallen comrades on his back to safety while single-handedly killing a dozen Viet Cong during his heroic tour of duty that he did in his mind.

Chicago White Sox: This is a tough one: a bunch of hippies blowing up Donna Summer records, or Ozzie Guillen strangling Jay Marrioti? Let's go a different route and celebrate something amazing - the game the White Sox played in shorts. Nothing says "immortal tribute" like Jim Spencer in short shorts, exposing his marble-white thighs while stretching for a ball a first.

Cleveland Indians: This really should be a series of statues paying tribute to Albert Belle placed throughout the stadium. Scenes include: him driving a car and running over trick-or treaters (placed in the parking lot); him heaving a ball into the chest of a heckler (located in foul territory in left) and his teammates retrieving and him glaring at a reporter with murderous hate (placed in the locker room).

Tampa Bay Rays: Simply put - Rocco Baldelli being wheeled into an MRI machine.

Detroit Tigers: I like the idea of a statue of Denny McLain arm in arm with several Italian "made men". However, I love the idea of a statue in the stands featuring Ty Cobb wailing away on a guy with no arms.

Kansas City Royals: Again, I'm torn - George Brett foaming at the mouth when flying out of the dugout during The Pine Tar Incident, or George Brett on the crapper with a tube of Preparation H in his hand? You can't go wrong either way, although I also insist on a statue of Bob Hamelin leaving the stadium in his uniform at the main exitway.

Oakland Athletics: Another easy one - Jose Canseco sticking a needle into Mark McGwire's ass while Tony Larussa looks off in the distance.

Seattle Mariners: I would go with the Mariner Moose writhing on the ground in rollerblades clutching his broken ankle, but I hate to honor mascots. Instead, let's honor a real American hero - let's have a statue of Jay Buhner vomiting on command.

Florida Marlins: A touching scene of Moises Alou, Kevin Brown and Gary Sheffield on an auction block going to the highest bidder.

New York Mets: A tribute to the 1986 World Series winners, featuring Darryl Strawberry and Doc Gooden playfully skiing down a mountain of blow.

Philadelphia Phillies: The Lenny Dykstra Commemorative Tobacco Juice Spit Fountain.

Chicago Cubs: Having an image of Moises Alou screaming and pointing at a dopey-looking Steve Bartman just seems mean. Instead, it's time to honor a legend: Harry Carey shirtless and face down in a pool of his own vomit, clutching a Bud in one hand and a hot dog in the other.

Arizona Diamondbacks: Time to immortalize the defining moment in a legendary pitcher's career: Randy Johnson plunking a wayward dove with a fastball, causing it to explode in an orgy of feathers.

Colorado Rockies: The new team is great, but let's not forget the legends who built the franchise. I'd like to see a lifesize statue of Vinny Castilla (Note: the immense size and weight of this statue would require massive reinforcement of the concrete below in order to avoid the statue falling into a massive sinkhole from which only Brendan Fraser can escape.)

Pittsburgh Pirates: It would be fitting but almost impossible to depict Barry Bonds and Bobby Bonilla glumly cleaning out their lockers after another playoff loss. Instead, put up a statue of Jason Kendall running a stride after first base on his ankle with the sole of his foot staring up at him. (Note: vomit bags should be made available.)

San Diego Padres: You could have Tony Gwynn getting his 3,000th hit in a Segway because he's too fat to actually get to first, but I actually don't think that's historically accurate. Instead, it's time to honor the team's lone NL MVP - Ken Caminitti "heroically" fighting off "flu-like symptoms" by coming to bat with an IV in his arm, a beer can attached to straws on his helmet and all manner of needles still in his butt.

San Francisco Giants: Yes, a lifesize bust of Barry Bonds would be great. But in order to make that fit in the stadium, you'd have to remove the giant mitt in center field, or drain McCovey's Cove. But I think all Giants fans would agree that honoring the greatest moment in the team's rivalry with the Dodgers would be perfect: an animatronic version of Juan Marichal cracking a bat over Johnny Roseboro's head, over and over.

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Jul 7, 2008

Maple bats must destroy all humans

As referenced on this site recently, maple bats have replaced global warming, terrorism and human-created black holes as the No. 1 threat to humanity. This past Friday was just another example, as Rockies SS Troy Tulowitzki had a bat shatter in his hand during a game against the Marlins, causing a gash on his right hand that required 16 stitches and landed him on the disabled list.

Of course, this didn't happen during an at-bat but after Tulowitzki smashed it into the ground after being lifted for a pinch-hitter. As Sports by Brooks points out, it's not Tulowitzki's fault. Plus, the bat totally had it coming: you should have seen how it was dressed.

The big thing to keep in mind is that the maple bats have progressed from on-the-field attacks to the dugout. What's next? All I know is that someone needs to go back ASAP and make sure there weren't any maple bats lurking around Darryl Kile's hotel room. Someone get the chick from "Cold Case" on this.

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