One big time positive feeling today and one big time negative, we'll start with the bad news and end with the good, just to give everyone a warm fuzzy feeling heading into Friday. Probably not much need for that, as Fridays are pretty warm and fuzzy to begin with, but anyway.
The dark side of the street comes to us from college hockey, more specifically the University of Minnesota, which has been the unrivaled league leader in bad news delivered to it's fans for about 3 years now. Full disclosure, I am a rabid fan of the University of North Dakota Fighting Sioux, it is my sworn duty to hate Golden Gopher hockey and revel in their every misstep. Problem is, a lot of what caused me to hate them in the first place just doesn't exist anymore, and lately the feeling of pity has replaced most of the hatred that once burned so bright.
I was never much of a college hockey fan until I went to college, which wouldn't seem a strange coincidence, unless you're from one of the few places on Earth where college puck is part of the consciousness. Minneapolis is one of those places, as is the state of North Dakota, so most of my friends from both places have had a die-hard passion about one of these teams since birth. Somehow the Gopher hockey bug missed me as a kid, hockey in general kind of faded in the years after the North Stars skipped town. But I got into Sioux and the WCHA with a gusto after arriving in Grand Forks, and now I'd say that there are few things in sports I enjoy more than college hockey. It is an intensely loved, region specific sport, but the lack of big time atmosphere is one of it's greatest benefits. The tickets are cheap and it's road trip friendly, 6 of the 10 WCHA arenas are within 5 hours of where I'm sitting right now. College hockey has maintained a lot of the charm that left more popular sports long ago.
But still, things are changing as the sport gets bigger and attracts better talents. The upside of this has been getting to watch the best young players in the world up close and personal. The downside has been some of the same players viewing their college days as a quick stopover on the way to the final destinations. The latest example occurred a few days ago, when Nick Leddy, an excellent sophomore defenseman and first-round draft pick, jumped ship from the U of M to sign with the Chicago Blackhawks. While this is hardly unprecedented, it strikes me as unfortunate on several levels.
First as a Fighting Sioux fan, who's seen a once-great rivalry crumble over the past few seasons with Minnesota's drop in the standings. As I said, there was a time I would've celebrated this, particularly between 2004-2007, when I had to live in the midst of a million insufferably arrogant Rodent fans. But times have also changed in that regard, with apathy replacing passion for many Gopher supporters. You know you've sunk pretty low when you're being pitied by fans of a rival, but that's the point it's reached.
Early defections and general turmoil have turned the Minnesota hockey program into a shell of it's former self, and as a person who enjoyed the rivalry, it's sad to see. Sure it was fun for a year or two, mocking one of the occasional underperforming squads that we all powerful programs have to deal with, but we're now going into year 4 of mediocre-to-bad hockey, with no end in sight, and the situation seems to be getting worse, not better. It's reached the point where this team isn't even fun to beat anymore, losing is a tragedy, winning is just beating another mediocre team. Sioux-Gophers used to be the stuff of Final Five Championship games and regional final tilts, now it's a first-round playoff matchup with a .500 opponent.
Beyond that, as a college hockey fan, a bad Gopher team just means fewer people caring about one of my favorite sports. Mainstream college hockey coverage often ebbs and flows with the fortunes of U of M teams, particularly in the Twin Cities. I'll gladly take Gopher chatter on the radio over another 30 minutes spent lamenting the sad-sack Timberwolves. The early departure signals bad things for the sport, and makes it that much easier for the next kid to skip town the minute an NHL team comes knocking. That has bad implications for every team, not just this one.
Round out this notion with the fact that Leddy was drafted by the Minnesota Wild last year, then traded for an older player, with the reason cited most often being his long development timeline, and it is indeed a sorry state the average hockey fan around these parts finds himself in. If he's a Blackhawk this season or next, my favorite professional team will once again have egg on it's face, and this time with a hometown kid. Sigh.
So that's the bad news, a state institution which many of my friends and acquaintances love, is spiraling further down the tubes. I'm certainly not as bummed as many I know about this, after all it's not my team. But considering how many Gopher games I attend due to proximity, and how much more enjoyable it is to beat them when they're good, I'm also not happy. (Don't worry too much about me though, I'll get over it, Sioux are loaded this year, got me some title aspirations.)
The good news? IT'S NFL SEASON!!!!!
Well technically not yet, but the Vikes are in Mankato today, training camps are underway across the country and I've got a half-chub just thinking about it. They were breaking down a preseason power poll on the radio during my drive to work this morning, I almost had to pull over because I couldn't see through the tears of joy!
Training camp battles, fantasy football, Brett Favre's triumphant return, it's all going to be here so very soon you can taste it; and it tastes like Coors Light with a side of chicken wings. I can't put it into words how much I love the start of the football season, college included, and you wouldn't want me to because those words would be aaagaagagahhhaggahaagh, as my tongue slid down my throat following a glee-inspired seizure.
Even though I know I'm just setting myself up for heartbreak (I'm a Vikings fan for the love of God), the day of football's return is still a great day to be alive. Two weeks ago I sat down and re-watched the NFC Championship game as a reminder of the pain, just so I could temper my enthusiasm about this whole thing. Didn't work, because this is mainly about the Vikes, but it's not all about the Vikes. It's about Monday nights and Saturday afternoons, about Ravens-Steelers and Cowboys-Eagles, about the hundred rivalries, plays and moments that each new football season brings.
Bring it on.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Not buying it
Lousy pitchers look credible, Surrender Sunday lineup hammers out runs, Twins win 3 of 4, trend or mirage?
Mirage is the answer, because the Baltimore Orioles are a terrible baseball team who should include an in-person visit from the owner offering an apology with every season ticket package. Then again, anyone who's still buying season tickets to this team after a decade plus of fultility probably deserves what they get. I get being a loyal fan and all that, but you're officially released from your obligation to follow a team under the Sterling-McHale Corollary after this many poor campaigns.
At this point opposing teams should be forced to play the O's with 8 guys on defense like an undermanned softball squad, just to make it interesting. The Twins record on the weekend should be stated as 0-1-3, for Wins-Losses-Showing Up; because that's all it takes really. On the positive side, Ty Wigginton officially made the list of guys who can play for my team any time when he flipped out over a close call at first base and needed to be restrained. Your teammates, manager, fans, ownership and God himself have obviously quit on you, but you're still out there raging against the dying of the light. That takes heart. Or psychosis. But that's a fine line anyway.
Other thoughts that ran through my mind while watching his head turn red and veins bulge out while he was screaming:
The Steroid Era might not be totally over.
If replay isn't going to happen, they should allow a team one open-handed slap to the face of any ump who blows a call. Don't hurt the guy, just up his incentive next time around and get a measure of revenge for what he just did to you. In fact let's let the bat boys do it, remove the risk of injury to a player while keeping the ump safe from serious harm. Of course it would probably only be a matter of time before MLB had to start testing the bat boys. Maybe this idea needs some work.
The Orioles suck, they suck totally and completely.
In fact they suck so much, I was hard pressed to come up with a list of things that suck more, in order from least to greatest:
Weak coffee
Newspaper getting completely soaked on a rainy morning
The last week of July when you're dying for NFL training camp to start
STDs (Non-permanent)
Not getting any
Any beer with fewer than 100 calories per can/bottle
The Versus-DirecTV schism
Testicular mutilation
WNBA games
STDs (Permanent)
The music of Maroon 5
Tarvaris Jackson
That's it, the entire list. Kind of puts it in perspective, eh?
And yes, I wanted to include Scott Baker on that list, but he pulled himself together and shut down the Orioles over the weekend, he must've drawn inspiration from reading the blog.
Mirage is the answer, because the Baltimore Orioles are a terrible baseball team who should include an in-person visit from the owner offering an apology with every season ticket package. Then again, anyone who's still buying season tickets to this team after a decade plus of fultility probably deserves what they get. I get being a loyal fan and all that, but you're officially released from your obligation to follow a team under the Sterling-McHale Corollary after this many poor campaigns.
At this point opposing teams should be forced to play the O's with 8 guys on defense like an undermanned softball squad, just to make it interesting. The Twins record on the weekend should be stated as 0-1-3, for Wins-Losses-Showing Up; because that's all it takes really. On the positive side, Ty Wigginton officially made the list of guys who can play for my team any time when he flipped out over a close call at first base and needed to be restrained. Your teammates, manager, fans, ownership and God himself have obviously quit on you, but you're still out there raging against the dying of the light. That takes heart. Or psychosis. But that's a fine line anyway.
Other thoughts that ran through my mind while watching his head turn red and veins bulge out while he was screaming:
The Steroid Era might not be totally over.
If replay isn't going to happen, they should allow a team one open-handed slap to the face of any ump who blows a call. Don't hurt the guy, just up his incentive next time around and get a measure of revenge for what he just did to you. In fact let's let the bat boys do it, remove the risk of injury to a player while keeping the ump safe from serious harm. Of course it would probably only be a matter of time before MLB had to start testing the bat boys. Maybe this idea needs some work.
The Orioles suck, they suck totally and completely.
In fact they suck so much, I was hard pressed to come up with a list of things that suck more, in order from least to greatest:
Weak coffee
Newspaper getting completely soaked on a rainy morning
The last week of July when you're dying for NFL training camp to start
STDs (Non-permanent)
Not getting any
Any beer with fewer than 100 calories per can/bottle
The Versus-DirecTV schism
Testicular mutilation
WNBA games
STDs (Permanent)
The music of Maroon 5
Tarvaris Jackson
That's it, the entire list. Kind of puts it in perspective, eh?
And yes, I wanted to include Scott Baker on that list, but he pulled himself together and shut down the Orioles over the weekend, he must've drawn inspiration from reading the blog.
Friday, July 23, 2010
The Curse of Target Field
Sometimes, what we want is not always good for us, like kids in a candy store who'd gorge themselves until they turned fat and diabetic, you and I can't be trusted alone with the goodies. The signing of Joe Mauer was universally lauded as a signal that the Twins franchise was taking a new approach, and the days of small-market woes were behind us. Now the greatest catcher in history is a slap-hitting DH with no power and a pedestrian average, who all our pitchers hate and has too many health woes to stay in the lineup. And I think we all know what's to blame for this, none other than the Taj Ma Twins, Target Field.
Now perhaps this is just an off year, as people tell me all the time, but maybe they're only saying that because the alternative is to say our team might've just handed out the worst contract in baseball history, and my mind can't even wrap it's head around a thought so frightening. I know you love the new ballpark, I loved it myself for quite awhile, but it's already sapped the confidence of our MVP catcher and at some point the need to win trumps the need to sit outside on a sunny day. There's no Teflon roof to get us a key flyball dropped in a crucial game, no spongy turf off which one of our slap-hitters can beat out a high chopper and score a crucial run, just how is this place supposed to help us win? For pete's sake, the reigning MVP, so screwed up that he bunted in a key at-bat last week. BUNTED!
Of course it's nice to go sit there under the sun and look at the grass, was just there two days ago for a beautiful afternoon outing. But last I checked, the point is still to win games, if you want to watch the Chicago Cubs, that's your business, but I'm all about the playoffs. So far, on that basis, we need to add Target Field the long list of unexpected success/failures that us fans never saw coming. Suppose it has to bump Cuddyer's contract extension out of the top spot because it was more expensive, but only slightly so. I'm marking The Curse of Target Field as an E-fans on my scorecard so far, but fortunately I have a few ideas to combat it's negative karma. I know you're dying to hear them.
First off, get one of those pine sprigs that they use in church to fling the holy water around (was that just a Catholic thing?), then get yourself a few buckets of Dome Dog juice and go to town. Just coat the sucker. Somewhere along the line we've stepped on history, whatever spirit was awakened must be appeased. Since it was the only truly popular thing about the old place, the Dome Dog should be the first order of business.
And speaking of awakening ticked-off spirits, there's a strong possibility that Humbert Humphrey is not amused by the decision to drop his name from the Metrodome in favor of a suburban consumer mecca where only out-of-towners go. I mean we sacked a famous statesman for a mall, how tacky can you get? I know that was really the Vikings doing (not hard to see how they ended up jinxed in the first place), but I guess angry spirits don't have time to split hairs. Simply fix though, just go with Target Field at Humphrey Stadium, or at least give him the plaza, something. I have an eerie feeling that the Happy Warrior is not happy.
So that's the easy stuff, but what are we going to do about Mauer? It's obvious the building has got him totally screwed up right now, deep shots keep dying at the track, liners get held up in the wind, guy probably feels like he can't do anything right. We need to bring back some of that Metrodome mojo, make him feel at home. First move, chop off that silly overhang in right and bring back the Hefty bag! Good old Hefty, rippling in the breeze, just calling to him "Hey Joe, you're safe here, just bounce one off me and you're home free, trotting into second base before you know it." I'm telling you, it'll loosen him up.
And if it doesn't? Grass is the next to go, the high chopper off the turf has been our bread and butter for years, Cristian Guzman hit .300 one year without ever getting a ball out of the infield. Now we've foolishly traded that unstoppable advantage for the feast-or-famine nature of home run hitter? Keep your sharks, where are my pirhanas?
Beyond getting the Baby Jesus back on track in more comfortable surroundings, we as a fanbase need to consider the kind of stress we're putting on our players. I mean do we have to sellout every game? Playing in front of all those people has got to make a guy nervous. Sure they say they like the atmosphere, but their performance tells another tale, especially with the pitchers. Look in their eyes when they're out on that mound, 40,000 people all staring at them and they're suppose to stay calm? Would you be able to? There's a reason we never beat the Yankees and Red Sox, the building is always full, it's intimidating!
Moving forward, we're just going to have to draw straws to see who stays home. I figure reducing the crowds by 10,000 of ought to give it more of a Dome feel, so 1/4 of you will need to stay home. I know a lot of people are going to balk at this, but take one for the team here, you want to win, right? As I stated earlier, you want lovable losers like the Cubs, then keep it up Minnesota. Showing up all the time, regardless of the circumstances, is the quickest way to make a team complacent. Make them work for it a bit.
Those are my thoughts at the moment, I have more if needed, including the nuclear option of swapping the Twins and Vikings home field (kills 2 birds with one stone), but I don't want it to come to that. You've waited a long time for outdoor baseball Minnesota, so hopefully we can turn this thing around, but we all need to be reasonable here and realized what's best for the team if things don't improve. We're going to get through this, one way or another.
Now perhaps this is just an off year, as people tell me all the time, but maybe they're only saying that because the alternative is to say our team might've just handed out the worst contract in baseball history, and my mind can't even wrap it's head around a thought so frightening. I know you love the new ballpark, I loved it myself for quite awhile, but it's already sapped the confidence of our MVP catcher and at some point the need to win trumps the need to sit outside on a sunny day. There's no Teflon roof to get us a key flyball dropped in a crucial game, no spongy turf off which one of our slap-hitters can beat out a high chopper and score a crucial run, just how is this place supposed to help us win? For pete's sake, the reigning MVP, so screwed up that he bunted in a key at-bat last week. BUNTED!
Of course it's nice to go sit there under the sun and look at the grass, was just there two days ago for a beautiful afternoon outing. But last I checked, the point is still to win games, if you want to watch the Chicago Cubs, that's your business, but I'm all about the playoffs. So far, on that basis, we need to add Target Field the long list of unexpected success/failures that us fans never saw coming. Suppose it has to bump Cuddyer's contract extension out of the top spot because it was more expensive, but only slightly so. I'm marking The Curse of Target Field as an E-fans on my scorecard so far, but fortunately I have a few ideas to combat it's negative karma. I know you're dying to hear them.
First off, get one of those pine sprigs that they use in church to fling the holy water around (was that just a Catholic thing?), then get yourself a few buckets of Dome Dog juice and go to town. Just coat the sucker. Somewhere along the line we've stepped on history, whatever spirit was awakened must be appeased. Since it was the only truly popular thing about the old place, the Dome Dog should be the first order of business.
And speaking of awakening ticked-off spirits, there's a strong possibility that Humbert Humphrey is not amused by the decision to drop his name from the Metrodome in favor of a suburban consumer mecca where only out-of-towners go. I mean we sacked a famous statesman for a mall, how tacky can you get? I know that was really the Vikings doing (not hard to see how they ended up jinxed in the first place), but I guess angry spirits don't have time to split hairs. Simply fix though, just go with Target Field at Humphrey Stadium, or at least give him the plaza, something. I have an eerie feeling that the Happy Warrior is not happy.
So that's the easy stuff, but what are we going to do about Mauer? It's obvious the building has got him totally screwed up right now, deep shots keep dying at the track, liners get held up in the wind, guy probably feels like he can't do anything right. We need to bring back some of that Metrodome mojo, make him feel at home. First move, chop off that silly overhang in right and bring back the Hefty bag! Good old Hefty, rippling in the breeze, just calling to him "Hey Joe, you're safe here, just bounce one off me and you're home free, trotting into second base before you know it." I'm telling you, it'll loosen him up.
And if it doesn't? Grass is the next to go, the high chopper off the turf has been our bread and butter for years, Cristian Guzman hit .300 one year without ever getting a ball out of the infield. Now we've foolishly traded that unstoppable advantage for the feast-or-famine nature of home run hitter? Keep your sharks, where are my pirhanas?
Beyond getting the Baby Jesus back on track in more comfortable surroundings, we as a fanbase need to consider the kind of stress we're putting on our players. I mean do we have to sellout every game? Playing in front of all those people has got to make a guy nervous. Sure they say they like the atmosphere, but their performance tells another tale, especially with the pitchers. Look in their eyes when they're out on that mound, 40,000 people all staring at them and they're suppose to stay calm? Would you be able to? There's a reason we never beat the Yankees and Red Sox, the building is always full, it's intimidating!
Moving forward, we're just going to have to draw straws to see who stays home. I figure reducing the crowds by 10,000 of ought to give it more of a Dome feel, so 1/4 of you will need to stay home. I know a lot of people are going to balk at this, but take one for the team here, you want to win, right? As I stated earlier, you want lovable losers like the Cubs, then keep it up Minnesota. Showing up all the time, regardless of the circumstances, is the quickest way to make a team complacent. Make them work for it a bit.
Those are my thoughts at the moment, I have more if needed, including the nuclear option of swapping the Twins and Vikings home field (kills 2 birds with one stone), but I don't want it to come to that. You've waited a long time for outdoor baseball Minnesota, so hopefully we can turn this thing around, but we all need to be reasonable here and realized what's best for the team if things don't improve. We're going to get through this, one way or another.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Scott Baker, Antichrist
Scott Baker's pitching is like biting into a ballpark hotdog and come away with a short n curly, forgetting to wipe down the seat in a public restroom and sitting on something wet, or rounding the corner in the men's locker room and coming face to face with an obese man bending over. In a word, disgusting.
Scott Baker's outings are more poorly planned than FEMA relief efforts, and leave a bigger mess that BPs Deepwater Horizon.
The other day a play-by-play guy mentioned Scott Baker "executing his pitches", I got excited for a moment, thinking he had said "executing this pitcher". Sadly, that was not the case.
Seeing Scott Baker's name on the schedule induces the same feeling of horror as watching the water rise in a newly backed-up toilet. Appropriate, give the figurative deuces he's been dropping all season, not talking about curveballs either.
If white is the lack of color, then Scott Baker is the lack of talent and winning is the lack of Scott Baker.
Scott Baker could not hit water if he fell out of a ****ing boat.
It's quite possible the Oklahoma Dust Bowl of the 1930s was God's attempt to prevent the existence of Scott Baker.
Scott Baker invented the vuvuzela, turkey bacon and the interminable commercial-kickoff-commercial stretch in NFL games.
The next time you're stuck in traffic, blame Scott Baker; he's also responsible for the subprime mortgage crisis and the fact that Saturday Night Live is no longer funny.
Scott Baker doesn't seem to care that he sucks, or maybe he's just afraid to throw his glove in the dugout for fear of it flying 400 feet in the opposite direction.
Palestinians and Israelis would've put their differences aside years ago, had it not been for Scott Baker.
If a train leaves Chicago headed east at 70 MPH, and another leaves Cleveland traveling at 50 MPH, Scott Baker has most likely surrendered home runs to more than half the passengers.
The shortest distance between two points is the seats and a Scott Baker fastball. The greatest distance is between competence and Scott Baker.
Scott Baker's WHIP could be confused with a 40-yard dash time.
I'm pretty sure Scott Baker is the devil incarnate, because it's a trip through hell every time he takes the mound.
Scott Baker's outings are more poorly planned than FEMA relief efforts, and leave a bigger mess that BPs Deepwater Horizon.
The other day a play-by-play guy mentioned Scott Baker "executing his pitches", I got excited for a moment, thinking he had said "executing this pitcher". Sadly, that was not the case.
Seeing Scott Baker's name on the schedule induces the same feeling of horror as watching the water rise in a newly backed-up toilet. Appropriate, give the figurative deuces he's been dropping all season, not talking about curveballs either.
If white is the lack of color, then Scott Baker is the lack of talent and winning is the lack of Scott Baker.
Scott Baker could not hit water if he fell out of a ****ing boat.
It's quite possible the Oklahoma Dust Bowl of the 1930s was God's attempt to prevent the existence of Scott Baker.
Scott Baker invented the vuvuzela, turkey bacon and the interminable commercial-kickoff-commercial stretch in NFL games.
The next time you're stuck in traffic, blame Scott Baker; he's also responsible for the subprime mortgage crisis and the fact that Saturday Night Live is no longer funny.
Scott Baker doesn't seem to care that he sucks, or maybe he's just afraid to throw his glove in the dugout for fear of it flying 400 feet in the opposite direction.
Palestinians and Israelis would've put their differences aside years ago, had it not been for Scott Baker.
If a train leaves Chicago headed east at 70 MPH, and another leaves Cleveland traveling at 50 MPH, Scott Baker has most likely surrendered home runs to more than half the passengers.
The shortest distance between two points is the seats and a Scott Baker fastball. The greatest distance is between competence and Scott Baker.
Scott Baker's WHIP could be confused with a 40-yard dash time.
I'm pretty sure Scott Baker is the devil incarnate, because it's a trip through hell every time he takes the mound.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Gotta love that reverse jinx
Sometimes you need to say something you don't totally believe in order to avoid the letdown of things going against you. An expectation of failure, if repeated often enough, can hammer at the mind to the point where the actual failure barely raises an eyebrow. Sure it's a cowardly and pathetic way to live your life, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop and playing the "knew it all along" card when it actually does, but it's damn hard to keep putting yourself out there when you've been burned so consistently over time.
Mock and ridicule me if you'd like, but the Vikings alone would've killed me years ago had I not begun to employ this defense mechanism. Once while watching a Twins game, a friend of mine told me "I don't know why you watch these games, they seem to make you miserable." Sadly, that probably sums up my career as a sports fan more succinctly than anything else. It's a loser's mentality, but in my defense I've seen a lot of losing, I apologize for nothing.
I bring this up to defend my posting last Friday, which declared the Twins season dead in the water, with no hope to be salvaged. Obviously no season is over following the first game after the All-Star break, especially when talking about a team that had closed gaps of 2 or 3 times it's size over the same period the past couple of years. Hell, I'm pretty sure the Twins were 4 games out with 3 to play last year and still won the division. Well maybe not, but pretty close. But after watching one atrocious display of baseball after another these past few months, I had to take action, even if it was the meaningless action of an idiot sports fan that made zero sense and left me looking foolish.
We all hear a lot of talk about "bandwagon" or "fairweather" fans. Some people consider it a badge of honor to stick by a terrible team at their worst, just so they can crow about how they were there the whole time when things swing back the other way. I can see the honor in this to a point, but there's also something about it that strikes me as profoundly dumb. Frankly I've always been envious of those people who could flip open the paper three-quarters of the way through a season, realize their local team was in playoff contention and pick up the chase from there. Sure those of us that follow it day in and day out like to scoff at the folks who don't know the score of the last game, or where our team sits in the standings, telling ourselves it will mean more to us when the winning finally comes, but will it really? I think so, but I'm not really sure, could be they're just as happy as I am, and all the loyalty didn't mean squat.
Rest assured, I would never stop watching, but could see how my attitude could strike many people as fairly bandwagon. At least as far as emotions go. I gave up on the 2009 Twins roughly 36 1/2 times (the half being when I was in the middle of a long-winded cursing of Michael Cuddyer before he hit a home run to tie a game in late September). Sometimes I gave up on them multiple times in the same game. But I never stopped following the team and caring how they did. After all, it wasn't just about that season, it was about a lifetime affiliation with the team. Whether Brian Duensing was a legit starter or Delmon Young's hot streak meant he'd turned a corner as a player, these are the thoughts that carry a fan through the lean times.
So I suppose it's a question of definitions. Is anything short of unfailing optimism grounds for being accused of fairweather fandom? Does spewing nine innings of bile at a certain underperforming starting pitcher (that's right Baker, talking to you) mean you shouldn't be able to celebrate a surprising good performance? Does logging countless hours watching, reading about and debating a team make up for these lapses in faith? Maybe not, but we're all who we are and I make no apologies, you might be the perfect fan, but there have always been a few million people who've been better than me at everything I've ever done. I've gotten past it in other areas, why should being a sportsfan be any different?
And you know what? If you're the superstitious type (guilty), then I can make a case that I'm a better fan than all the unwavering supporters out there. Sure you may look better on paper, your friends may like watching games with you more, you definitely get more enjoyment out of this stuff on a daily basis, but I bring the most powerful force in sports to the table: The Reverse Jinx.
Everyone knows what it is to jinx something, you don't discuss something bad without immediately knocking on wood, players don't approach a pitcher in the dugout when he's got a no hitter going, you NEVER call a Vikings win in an NFC Championship game under any circumstances, you just let those sleeping dogs of luck lie. Well I, my friends, believe that the opposite is true, but downplaying the possibility of things you want to happen, you can actually make them more likely. Not only does this feed into the lowered expectations mantra I described earlier, but it actually can help the collective karma of the team. Yes, I honestly believe this. No, I do not need you to recommend a good psychiatrist.
You want proof? Look no further than last Friday. Following the Twins coughing up the first game of their series, I declared them dead, only to watch them win three in a row from a red-hot White Sox team, the last in improbable fashion. To top it off, I even picked up Bobby Jenks in my fantasy baseball league, 13 straight saves converted, 3 runs allowed TOTAL since June 1st coming into yesterday's game...and he gets shelled for 4 runs in the 9th without recording an out. Power of positivity my ass, what more proof do you need!
So, I'm doing my part fellow Twins fans, embrace the negativity and the negativity will set you free. On that note, I'd like to say Scott Baker is garbage, we will be lucky if he gets out of the 3rd inning tonight, and soft-tossing Aaron Laffey (borderline member of the Paul Byrd All-Stars for terrible pitchers who have the Twins number) will once again make a mockery of our allegedly high-powered lineup.
Just an honest opinion about a team with no chance.
As far as you know.
Mock and ridicule me if you'd like, but the Vikings alone would've killed me years ago had I not begun to employ this defense mechanism. Once while watching a Twins game, a friend of mine told me "I don't know why you watch these games, they seem to make you miserable." Sadly, that probably sums up my career as a sports fan more succinctly than anything else. It's a loser's mentality, but in my defense I've seen a lot of losing, I apologize for nothing.
I bring this up to defend my posting last Friday, which declared the Twins season dead in the water, with no hope to be salvaged. Obviously no season is over following the first game after the All-Star break, especially when talking about a team that had closed gaps of 2 or 3 times it's size over the same period the past couple of years. Hell, I'm pretty sure the Twins were 4 games out with 3 to play last year and still won the division. Well maybe not, but pretty close. But after watching one atrocious display of baseball after another these past few months, I had to take action, even if it was the meaningless action of an idiot sports fan that made zero sense and left me looking foolish.
We all hear a lot of talk about "bandwagon" or "fairweather" fans. Some people consider it a badge of honor to stick by a terrible team at their worst, just so they can crow about how they were there the whole time when things swing back the other way. I can see the honor in this to a point, but there's also something about it that strikes me as profoundly dumb. Frankly I've always been envious of those people who could flip open the paper three-quarters of the way through a season, realize their local team was in playoff contention and pick up the chase from there. Sure those of us that follow it day in and day out like to scoff at the folks who don't know the score of the last game, or where our team sits in the standings, telling ourselves it will mean more to us when the winning finally comes, but will it really? I think so, but I'm not really sure, could be they're just as happy as I am, and all the loyalty didn't mean squat.
Rest assured, I would never stop watching, but could see how my attitude could strike many people as fairly bandwagon. At least as far as emotions go. I gave up on the 2009 Twins roughly 36 1/2 times (the half being when I was in the middle of a long-winded cursing of Michael Cuddyer before he hit a home run to tie a game in late September). Sometimes I gave up on them multiple times in the same game. But I never stopped following the team and caring how they did. After all, it wasn't just about that season, it was about a lifetime affiliation with the team. Whether Brian Duensing was a legit starter or Delmon Young's hot streak meant he'd turned a corner as a player, these are the thoughts that carry a fan through the lean times.
So I suppose it's a question of definitions. Is anything short of unfailing optimism grounds for being accused of fairweather fandom? Does spewing nine innings of bile at a certain underperforming starting pitcher (that's right Baker, talking to you) mean you shouldn't be able to celebrate a surprising good performance? Does logging countless hours watching, reading about and debating a team make up for these lapses in faith? Maybe not, but we're all who we are and I make no apologies, you might be the perfect fan, but there have always been a few million people who've been better than me at everything I've ever done. I've gotten past it in other areas, why should being a sportsfan be any different?
And you know what? If you're the superstitious type (guilty), then I can make a case that I'm a better fan than all the unwavering supporters out there. Sure you may look better on paper, your friends may like watching games with you more, you definitely get more enjoyment out of this stuff on a daily basis, but I bring the most powerful force in sports to the table: The Reverse Jinx.
Everyone knows what it is to jinx something, you don't discuss something bad without immediately knocking on wood, players don't approach a pitcher in the dugout when he's got a no hitter going, you NEVER call a Vikings win in an NFC Championship game under any circumstances, you just let those sleeping dogs of luck lie. Well I, my friends, believe that the opposite is true, but downplaying the possibility of things you want to happen, you can actually make them more likely. Not only does this feed into the lowered expectations mantra I described earlier, but it actually can help the collective karma of the team. Yes, I honestly believe this. No, I do not need you to recommend a good psychiatrist.
You want proof? Look no further than last Friday. Following the Twins coughing up the first game of their series, I declared them dead, only to watch them win three in a row from a red-hot White Sox team, the last in improbable fashion. To top it off, I even picked up Bobby Jenks in my fantasy baseball league, 13 straight saves converted, 3 runs allowed TOTAL since June 1st coming into yesterday's game...and he gets shelled for 4 runs in the 9th without recording an out. Power of positivity my ass, what more proof do you need!
So, I'm doing my part fellow Twins fans, embrace the negativity and the negativity will set you free. On that note, I'd like to say Scott Baker is garbage, we will be lucky if he gets out of the 3rd inning tonight, and soft-tossing Aaron Laffey (borderline member of the Paul Byrd All-Stars for terrible pitchers who have the Twins number) will once again make a mockery of our allegedly high-powered lineup.
Just an honest opinion about a team with no chance.
As far as you know.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Twins...DEAD!
With 55% of precincts reporting, Loserville is ready to declare a winner in the AL Central race, and not surprisingly, it won't be the local squad. Not sure which of team will end up at the top of the standings between the White Sox and Tigers, but I can guarantee that the Minnesota Twins will not see the postseason this year.
The baseball gods must be laughing in the face of Minnesota fans right now. After all our years of clamoring for more power in the lineup, for free agent moves and increased payrolls, our team is now getting buried by two teams built around the twin pillars of our disdain: Pitching and defense.
The chickens are now coming home to roost after all those years we scoffed at White Sox teams that made errors in the field and on the basepaths, waiting around for 3-run homers while the Twins dinked-n-dunked them to death. Watching those two teams square off last night, the reversal of fortune couldn't be clearer, the Whities executed one hit-and-run after another, laid down key bunts, did all the little things that the Twins used to be know for and now seem incapable of.
(And don't even get me started on the pitching, which is reasons 1-3 that this team is going nowhere, as in 1.Blackburn, 2.Slowey, 3.Baker. They showed the 3 Stooges in the dugout last night, wearing their typical befuddled expressions. Bad enough that they're conspiring to sink the team this season, then they compound it by seeming utterly shocked that things went the way they did. If I have to hear Scott Baker sit at his locker with a confused look on his face and talk about making good pitches one more time after getting shelled, I'm going to lose it. I hope he hires a guy to come out and remove a tree at his house this summer, then when the tree falls, it crushes his deck. Then tree-removal guy can look at him and say "I made a good cut, not sure what happened there", because that would be poetic justice.)
The Twins traded defense for power and plunked down huge money to lock up our best player this season, just like we all begged them to, so it might be still more poetic justice that it's blowing up in our faces. Where have you gone Nick Punto? The scrappiness seems to have vanished, the pitching is vomit-inducing, nobody has any answers, and things just keep getting worse. They can't win, they won't win, they're dead.
Vikings training camp is only two weeks away.
The baseball gods must be laughing in the face of Minnesota fans right now. After all our years of clamoring for more power in the lineup, for free agent moves and increased payrolls, our team is now getting buried by two teams built around the twin pillars of our disdain: Pitching and defense.
The chickens are now coming home to roost after all those years we scoffed at White Sox teams that made errors in the field and on the basepaths, waiting around for 3-run homers while the Twins dinked-n-dunked them to death. Watching those two teams square off last night, the reversal of fortune couldn't be clearer, the Whities executed one hit-and-run after another, laid down key bunts, did all the little things that the Twins used to be know for and now seem incapable of.
(And don't even get me started on the pitching, which is reasons 1-3 that this team is going nowhere, as in 1.Blackburn, 2.Slowey, 3.Baker. They showed the 3 Stooges in the dugout last night, wearing their typical befuddled expressions. Bad enough that they're conspiring to sink the team this season, then they compound it by seeming utterly shocked that things went the way they did. If I have to hear Scott Baker sit at his locker with a confused look on his face and talk about making good pitches one more time after getting shelled, I'm going to lose it. I hope he hires a guy to come out and remove a tree at his house this summer, then when the tree falls, it crushes his deck. Then tree-removal guy can look at him and say "I made a good cut, not sure what happened there", because that would be poetic justice.)
The Twins traded defense for power and plunked down huge money to lock up our best player this season, just like we all begged them to, so it might be still more poetic justice that it's blowing up in our faces. Where have you gone Nick Punto? The scrappiness seems to have vanished, the pitching is vomit-inducing, nobody has any answers, and things just keep getting worse. They can't win, they won't win, they're dead.
Vikings training camp is only two weeks away.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
On the Record
Okay, it's time to get some things on paper for posterity's sake, that way I can crow about being correct, or ignore that this ever happened if I'm wrong:
Will the Twins win the AL Central? No
Over/Under - Joe Mauer HRs: 10 Push
Over/Under - Michael Cuddyer HRs: 20 Under
Over/Under - Delmon Young RBIs: 100 Over
Over/Under - Frank Liriano wins: 12 Over
Before/After - Nick Blackburn's last day in rotation: August 1st After
Over/Under - # of times I am sucked back into believing in the Twins, only to give up and curse their existence days later: 3 Over
Before/After - Brett Favre's return to the Vikings: August 23rd After (calling the 24th myself)
Over/Under - Number of times Ed Werder reports Favre will retire: 1 Over
Yes/No - Adrian Peterson contract holdout No
Over/Under - Adrian Peterson preseason funbles: 1 Under
Over/Under - Number of KFAN callers freaking out following any fumble: 100 Over
My picks are in bold, post a comment with yours and we'll see who's the better prognosticator.
Will the Twins win the AL Central? No
Over/Under - Joe Mauer HRs: 10 Push
Over/Under - Michael Cuddyer HRs: 20 Under
Over/Under - Delmon Young RBIs: 100 Over
Over/Under - Frank Liriano wins: 12 Over
Before/After - Nick Blackburn's last day in rotation: August 1st After
Over/Under - # of times I am sucked back into believing in the Twins, only to give up and curse their existence days later: 3 Over
Before/After - Brett Favre's return to the Vikings: August 23rd After (calling the 24th myself)
Over/Under - Number of times Ed Werder reports Favre will retire: 1 Over
Yes/No - Adrian Peterson contract holdout No
Over/Under - Adrian Peterson preseason funbles: 1 Under
Over/Under - Number of KFAN callers freaking out following any fumble: 100 Over
My picks are in bold, post a comment with yours and we'll see who's the better prognosticator.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Ode to a dog
Nothing to do with sports here, just something I wanted to post.
On Monday night, I received the unfortunate news that Sadie, my parents 9-year old English Setter, had to be put down after the vet found a tumor in her heart. While it was a very hard reality to face, the decision was easy, as there wasn't much they could do for the dog, even surgery to remove the tumor carried an extremely slim chance of success.
This was a jarring turn of events, as Sadie was as spry as I'd ever seen her only a couple of weeks ago, before the folks departed with her on a cross-country trip. About a week ago she began acting lethargic, prompting a visit to the vet, and a few days later tests turned up the awful news that every pet owner fears. It's not the first time the family has been through this with a dog, but the swiftness of their decline is always a bit of a shock, it seems like yesterday she was tearing through the woods with me struggling to keep up, and now, suddenly, I would never be seeing her again.
While I do try to keep all this in perspective, as many people I know have gone through much worse with people in their lives, nevermind dogs, it is still profoundly sad to lose a pet. Sadie might've been more my mom's dog than my own, accompanying her while she wintered in Arizona, but I loved her like a member of the family. Dogs are faithful companions and eternal optimists offering unconditional love, and Sadie had all those traits in spades. While I might not miss the 5 AM wakeup calls she insisted on whenever I watched her, or the insistent begging for anything she could get from the fridge, it makes me very sad to think about all of the things I loved her for, and will never get to experience again.
Her absolute devotion to people, love of being petted, morning romps through the woods and slow stalking of various critters around the yard will always be ingrained in my memory. As will be the clumsy missteps she made, walking straight into parked cars on walks (her eyes always had a bit of a downward droop) or falling ass-over-teakettles while trying to run down a rabbit she'd flushed (I affectionately nicknamed her Elmer Fudd after a few of those, she never had much success with the wabbits). But most of all, I will just miss her being there, that validation a pet offers to it's owner, making them feel like the most important person in the room whenever they enter.
We get into this whole pet thing knowing that one day, we will have to say goodbye. I've had to say my goodbyes to three dogs now, the old one I knew as a child, the one I raised from a pup and now the one who showed up as a quirky outcast, but settled into things as if she'd belonged there all along; because she did. The last two went suddenly, and much sooner than I'd expected, leaving a raw pain that I know from experience only fades with the passage of time. But sitting here now, getting misty at the memories, I'd do the same all over again. As with any pet owner, the good far outweighs the bad, my life was enriched and now something is missing, but I'm far better off than if it had never been there at all.
Rest in peace Sadie Mae, you were as good a dog as anyone could've asked for, and it makes me feel proud that you loved me like you did. I hope you catch that rabbit.
On Monday night, I received the unfortunate news that Sadie, my parents 9-year old English Setter, had to be put down after the vet found a tumor in her heart. While it was a very hard reality to face, the decision was easy, as there wasn't much they could do for the dog, even surgery to remove the tumor carried an extremely slim chance of success.
This was a jarring turn of events, as Sadie was as spry as I'd ever seen her only a couple of weeks ago, before the folks departed with her on a cross-country trip. About a week ago she began acting lethargic, prompting a visit to the vet, and a few days later tests turned up the awful news that every pet owner fears. It's not the first time the family has been through this with a dog, but the swiftness of their decline is always a bit of a shock, it seems like yesterday she was tearing through the woods with me struggling to keep up, and now, suddenly, I would never be seeing her again.
While I do try to keep all this in perspective, as many people I know have gone through much worse with people in their lives, nevermind dogs, it is still profoundly sad to lose a pet. Sadie might've been more my mom's dog than my own, accompanying her while she wintered in Arizona, but I loved her like a member of the family. Dogs are faithful companions and eternal optimists offering unconditional love, and Sadie had all those traits in spades. While I might not miss the 5 AM wakeup calls she insisted on whenever I watched her, or the insistent begging for anything she could get from the fridge, it makes me very sad to think about all of the things I loved her for, and will never get to experience again.
Her absolute devotion to people, love of being petted, morning romps through the woods and slow stalking of various critters around the yard will always be ingrained in my memory. As will be the clumsy missteps she made, walking straight into parked cars on walks (her eyes always had a bit of a downward droop) or falling ass-over-teakettles while trying to run down a rabbit she'd flushed (I affectionately nicknamed her Elmer Fudd after a few of those, she never had much success with the wabbits). But most of all, I will just miss her being there, that validation a pet offers to it's owner, making them feel like the most important person in the room whenever they enter.
We get into this whole pet thing knowing that one day, we will have to say goodbye. I've had to say my goodbyes to three dogs now, the old one I knew as a child, the one I raised from a pup and now the one who showed up as a quirky outcast, but settled into things as if she'd belonged there all along; because she did. The last two went suddenly, and much sooner than I'd expected, leaving a raw pain that I know from experience only fades with the passage of time. But sitting here now, getting misty at the memories, I'd do the same all over again. As with any pet owner, the good far outweighs the bad, my life was enriched and now something is missing, but I'm far better off than if it had never been there at all.
Rest in peace Sadie Mae, you were as good a dog as anyone could've asked for, and it makes me feel proud that you loved me like you did. I hope you catch that rabbit.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Time to panic?
So the Twins limped into the All-Star break losing 2 of 3 to Detroit and looking bad in the process. Their closest approximation to an ace got shelled for 7 runs in less than two innings last Friday, and their closest approximation to a AA journeyman did about the same the day after. It was only the continued mastery of Carl Pavano over the Detroit Tigers that kept the local nine from falling a season-high 5 games back of first-place heading into the All-Star break, and delayed the destruction of those stupid Joe Mauer statues all over downtown in a LeBron James-style show of frustration.
The pitching is a mess, the offense is not much better, thanks in no small part to the struggles of the reigning MVP, and it's generally appearing that we're headed for a Wildesque "if only the team played as pretty as the building looks" type of season. 3 1/2 games out, and now looking up at two teams in the standings (including the red hot White Sox) following two months of baseball that ranged from "highly mediocre" to "downright awful". Not to mention the cherry on top of the turd sundae this past weekend, as the Cliff Lee Sweepstakes was lost to Texas. So the question has to be asked: Is it time to panic?
Now I know that less than a week ago I described this point in the baseball season as a time when "any reaction is an overreaction", and 88 games in with 74 left to play is not exactly crunch time. But downplaying the Twins struggles as a blip on the radar runs into problems for anyone who's actually been watching the games, and knows even a bit about baseball. Unless the front of the jersey says "Yankees", grinding your way to the top of a division takes one thing above all else, pitching, particularly of the starting variety. Starters don't have to be Cy Young-caliber every time out, but have to give you a chance to win the game, the reason "quality start" has become an important term in the baseball vernacular is because it's what's required to give your team a shot.
A 4.50 ERA, which is what the quality start definition of 3 earned runs or fewer in 6 innings pitched equates to, is not exactly All-Star caliber, but hitting those numbers 75% of the time is what's required to have a good baseball team. Some nights you'll run into a tough opposing pitcher, some nights the bats will go cold, some night the bullpen will blow it, but all these eventualities can be buffered into 6 wins out of 10 pretty easily, as long as your starters give you that chance most times out. Lately the Twins haven't been hitting 50% on that mark, in fact the number of games in which they've pitched the team out of things in the first 3 innings is pretty staggering.
Going back over the starters for the pitchers in the rotation that have not been holding up their end (read: anyone not named Pavano), the performance since the beginning of June is pretty alarming.
The first number in each set is innings pitched, the second is earned runs allowed:
Liriano - 1.2 / 7, 7 / 1, 6 / 6, 5 / 3, 7 / 3, 5 / 3, 5 / 1
Blackburn - 4 / 7, 6.1 / 4, 7 / 4, 3.2 / 5, 1.2 / 8, 7 / 2, 2.2 / 5, 3.2 / 5
Slowey - 6.1 / 5, 6 / 1, 6 / 5, 1.2 / 7, 4.2 / 5, 7 / 0, 7 / 1
Baker - 6 / 5, 7 / 1, 4.1 / 6, 6 / 5, 7 / 0, 5 / 5, 7.1 / 4
In the last 29 starts between these four pitchers, 10 (34%) have been quality. While Blackburn is the worst offender, having only one of eight starts meeting the quality definition, he's hardly alone in the blame department, as none have registered good games in the majority of their turns the last six weeks.
Taking things a bit further, I'd offer up the definition of "mediocre" (less that a run per inning) and "channel changing/remote hurling/your mother should've aborted you/I can't believe you're a professional pitcher, I think you should be working at the snack bar" (complete and total butchering of any chance to win) starts to flesh things out a bit more. By comparison to the 10 quality, the Twins have had 8 passable and 11 meltdown starts in the same time frame. You don't have to be much of a ball guy to understand that is a recipe for a team that's going nowhere. So, it is with that long-winded and essential caveat that we may begin our discussion of what is possible in the second half.
A look at the last five years of AL Central Division history provide the following picture:
Year 88-Game W-L Place GB Twins W-L Place GB Div. Winner Div. Winner W-L
2005 48-40 2nd 11 83-79 3rd 16 Chicago 99-63
2006 48-40 3rd 12 96-66 1st - Minnesota 96-66
2007 45-43 3rd 8 79-83 3rd 17.5 Cleveland 97-66
2008 50-38 2nd .5 88-75 2nd 1 Chicago 89-74
2009 44-44 3rd 4 87-76 1st - Minnesota 87-76
2010 46-42 3rd 3.5 ? ? ? ? ?
Time to panic? Short answer is probably not. Longer answer is here the Twins are, right smack dab in the middle of where they always seem to be about this time, and it's a question of whether or not another team steps up to take it. If not, and they allow the Twins to hang around into September, then I gotta say I like those odds.
The White Sox have been on an amazing run, and are on pace to finish 91-71 (I picked them to be 92-70, just sayin), but can we really expect the 25-5 pace they've been on over their last 30 games to continue? Especially considering the loss of Jake Peavy for the season? The Tigers have also played stellar ball, but are already down one reliever to injury, and have gotten big first halves from a couple young ballplayers who might have trouble keeping it up. About the only thing we know for sure is, this division is going to play a lot tougher this season than most people predicted. The average wins needed for the division title over the past five years has been 93.6, but it looks to be playing closer to the 2005-07 number of 97.3 than the 2008-09 figure of 88.
The Twins have been here before and bounced back, but it must be acknowledged that they've done so in some of the easier seasons the division has seen. Playing .600 ball the rest of the way (admittedly a difficult task) would leave Chicago with 93 wins on the season, a total that the Twins would need a .635 clip to match. Can it be done? Of course, look no further than 2006 for proof. Will it be done? About the only thing we can say for sure is not without vastly improved pitching, and lacking a Johan Santana-type, the odds are slim. The good news is that only two teams in the majors have played .600 ball so far this season, so the odds of the Whities doing it are slim as well, but even under this worst-case scenario, us Twins fans can find some history that offers hope.
So what the heck, allow me to play the optimist role for a moment and say we've got lousy pitching so far, not much from our MVP catcher, step-back seasons from a couple other big sticks and quite a few injuries. Gardy is a second-half manager and this team has beaten longer odds to pull through on several occasions, I think they've got a run in them yet.
On the other hand, did you SEE those pitching stats?
Hell, I have no idea what's going to happen, anyone up for Game 163, Part III?
The pitching is a mess, the offense is not much better, thanks in no small part to the struggles of the reigning MVP, and it's generally appearing that we're headed for a Wildesque "if only the team played as pretty as the building looks" type of season. 3 1/2 games out, and now looking up at two teams in the standings (including the red hot White Sox) following two months of baseball that ranged from "highly mediocre" to "downright awful". Not to mention the cherry on top of the turd sundae this past weekend, as the Cliff Lee Sweepstakes was lost to Texas. So the question has to be asked: Is it time to panic?
Now I know that less than a week ago I described this point in the baseball season as a time when "any reaction is an overreaction", and 88 games in with 74 left to play is not exactly crunch time. But downplaying the Twins struggles as a blip on the radar runs into problems for anyone who's actually been watching the games, and knows even a bit about baseball. Unless the front of the jersey says "Yankees", grinding your way to the top of a division takes one thing above all else, pitching, particularly of the starting variety. Starters don't have to be Cy Young-caliber every time out, but have to give you a chance to win the game, the reason "quality start" has become an important term in the baseball vernacular is because it's what's required to give your team a shot.
A 4.50 ERA, which is what the quality start definition of 3 earned runs or fewer in 6 innings pitched equates to, is not exactly All-Star caliber, but hitting those numbers 75% of the time is what's required to have a good baseball team. Some nights you'll run into a tough opposing pitcher, some nights the bats will go cold, some night the bullpen will blow it, but all these eventualities can be buffered into 6 wins out of 10 pretty easily, as long as your starters give you that chance most times out. Lately the Twins haven't been hitting 50% on that mark, in fact the number of games in which they've pitched the team out of things in the first 3 innings is pretty staggering.
Going back over the starters for the pitchers in the rotation that have not been holding up their end (read: anyone not named Pavano), the performance since the beginning of June is pretty alarming.
The first number in each set is innings pitched, the second is earned runs allowed:
Liriano - 1.2 / 7, 7 / 1, 6 / 6, 5 / 3, 7 / 3, 5 / 3, 5 / 1
Blackburn - 4 / 7, 6.1 / 4, 7 / 4, 3.2 / 5, 1.2 / 8, 7 / 2, 2.2 / 5, 3.2 / 5
Slowey - 6.1 / 5, 6 / 1, 6 / 5, 1.2 / 7, 4.2 / 5, 7 / 0, 7 / 1
Baker - 6 / 5, 7 / 1, 4.1 / 6, 6 / 5, 7 / 0, 5 / 5, 7.1 / 4
In the last 29 starts between these four pitchers, 10 (34%) have been quality. While Blackburn is the worst offender, having only one of eight starts meeting the quality definition, he's hardly alone in the blame department, as none have registered good games in the majority of their turns the last six weeks.
Taking things a bit further, I'd offer up the definition of "mediocre" (less that a run per inning) and "channel changing/remote hurling/your mother should've aborted you/I can't believe you're a professional pitcher, I think you should be working at the snack bar" (complete and total butchering of any chance to win) starts to flesh things out a bit more. By comparison to the 10 quality, the Twins have had 8 passable and 11 meltdown starts in the same time frame. You don't have to be much of a ball guy to understand that is a recipe for a team that's going nowhere. So, it is with that long-winded and essential caveat that we may begin our discussion of what is possible in the second half.
A look at the last five years of AL Central Division history provide the following picture:
Year 88-Game W-L Place GB Twins W-L Place GB Div. Winner Div. Winner W-L
2005 48-40 2nd 11 83-79 3rd 16 Chicago 99-63
2006 48-40 3rd 12 96-66 1st - Minnesota 96-66
2007 45-43 3rd 8 79-83 3rd 17.5 Cleveland 97-66
2008 50-38 2nd .5 88-75 2nd 1 Chicago 89-74
2009 44-44 3rd 4 87-76 1st - Minnesota 87-76
2010 46-42 3rd 3.5 ? ? ? ? ?
Time to panic? Short answer is probably not. Longer answer is here the Twins are, right smack dab in the middle of where they always seem to be about this time, and it's a question of whether or not another team steps up to take it. If not, and they allow the Twins to hang around into September, then I gotta say I like those odds.
The White Sox have been on an amazing run, and are on pace to finish 91-71 (I picked them to be 92-70, just sayin), but can we really expect the 25-5 pace they've been on over their last 30 games to continue? Especially considering the loss of Jake Peavy for the season? The Tigers have also played stellar ball, but are already down one reliever to injury, and have gotten big first halves from a couple young ballplayers who might have trouble keeping it up. About the only thing we know for sure is, this division is going to play a lot tougher this season than most people predicted. The average wins needed for the division title over the past five years has been 93.6, but it looks to be playing closer to the 2005-07 number of 97.3 than the 2008-09 figure of 88.
The Twins have been here before and bounced back, but it must be acknowledged that they've done so in some of the easier seasons the division has seen. Playing .600 ball the rest of the way (admittedly a difficult task) would leave Chicago with 93 wins on the season, a total that the Twins would need a .635 clip to match. Can it be done? Of course, look no further than 2006 for proof. Will it be done? About the only thing we can say for sure is not without vastly improved pitching, and lacking a Johan Santana-type, the odds are slim. The good news is that only two teams in the majors have played .600 ball so far this season, so the odds of the Whities doing it are slim as well, but even under this worst-case scenario, us Twins fans can find some history that offers hope.
So what the heck, allow me to play the optimist role for a moment and say we've got lousy pitching so far, not much from our MVP catcher, step-back seasons from a couple other big sticks and quite a few injuries. Gardy is a second-half manager and this team has beaten longer odds to pull through on several occasions, I think they've got a run in them yet.
On the other hand, did you SEE those pitching stats?
Hell, I have no idea what's going to happen, anyone up for Game 163, Part III?
Thursday, July 8, 2010
All-Time Sports Douchebags
The NBA has always been a revolutionary league, bringing many firsts to the sports landscape.
Superstars with illegitimate children numbering in double digits, neck tattoos, posses, players assaulting fans/coaches and handguns in locker rooms have all been brought to us courtesy of the Association.
Tonight an NBA player will once again break new ground by holding a one-hour special event on ESPN to announce the team he will choose to sign with in free agency. In the process, he will no doubt create a new standard for announcements of this type, at least as far as the NBA is concerned. Gone will be the days of the quiet negotiation and press conference, to be replaced by the era of free agency as an over-the-top sideshow. I'm less than enthused.
When I heard that LeBron James would be doing this, following an interminable month of blather about his potential destinations (which followed an interminable 3 years of speculation on the free agent class as a whole), only one word came to mind: Douchebag. Now I've never been the biggest LeBron guy, but I've never disliked him either. There are many positive things you can say about him, especially when compared to other athletes. He's never run afoul of the law, seems like a genuinely good teammate, has seemingly stayed faithful to his high-school sweetheart/mother of his children (of course we know appearances can't be trusted on that front, thanks Tiger); all in all, seems like a decent dude.
But that being said about LeBron the person, the same is not true of LeBron the player. Sure the stats are great, and yes, the supporting cast hasn't been there, but it's hard to recall another player so ready to anoint themselves as the greatest while having such a thin resume to back it. The line between confident and cocky for an athlete is as thin as it gets, it has to be in order for them to reach the top in the first place.
Any pro athlete was likely the best on their team since they took up the sport, outperforming their AAU and high school teammates, maybe even dominating on pure skill in college before they really had to work hard to succeed. Not only have they earned their cockiness by backing it up, they need a reserve of it to bounce back when things don't go their way. Even the best pitchers get taken deep to lose a game, even the best guards clang a wide-open shot off the rim as the clock runs out. Without an unflinching belief in themselves, they might hesitate to challenge that batter or pull the trigger on that shot in the future, and at that point, the battle is lost.
A bit of cockiness in players and coaches is a good thing. I've never been a great athlete, but I've played with a few, and most of them knew exactly how good they were. It was annoying at times, but the fact that they never got shook about the situation often kept the players around them from unraveling. LeBron James has always been looked to as that player, so it makes perfect sense he thinks a lot of his abilities, he has to in order to thrive under the pressure that's been placed on him. But many things in the last few years, from the "King James" nickname to the "Chosen 1" tattoo across his back, scream DOUCHEBAG! when juxtaposed against his lack of playoff success.
No titles, one Finals appearance that ended with his team getting swept, refusing to shake hands with opponents at the end of lost series on multiple occasions and basically quitting on his team during the final two games of last season. It begs the question, if LeBron is the chosen one, who's doing to choosing? Kevin McHale? (Of course that's a joke, we all know if McHale had the first pick in the all-time NBA draft, he'd have chosen Jordan and then traded him for LeBron.) And if that's not enough, we've got this whole free agency farce, where instead of actually playing in the playoffs, LBJ was stealing thunder by making the interview circuit to discuss his future. Rather than sit back and leave the spotlight to the players he wasn't good enough to beat, he needed to turn the attention to him, turning the game itself into an afterthought. If that's not a douchebag move, I don't know what is.
The only question now is, where does LeBron fit in the Douchebag Hierarchy? We won't truly know until he makes his announcement tonight, because although he's conducted himself douchily for the last few weeks, a lot of things can be redeemed by choosing to stay in Cleveland. Ditching the fans that worship you is one thing, going on national TV to do so in a specially organized event is quite another, and would launch him into the midst of the following on the All-Time Sports Douchebag Team.
(Note: The majority of the Felonious All-Stars belong on this list, pretty much a given with the stuff they pulled, but I'm not going to revisit that here.(http://loservillechronicles.blogspot.com/2010/05/and-while-were-on-subject.html) It's important to remember that criminals are always douchebags, but douchebags are not necessarily criminals. If only you could bet on things like how long it would be before the words "Michael Vick" and "shooting" would appear in a headline, we'd all be rich.)
I was going to do a Top 10, but once I started thinking they just kept coming to me, so here's 20 and there are probably many more I'm missing:
20. Kobe Bryant - Ton of success, obviously one of the best players ever to play the game of basketball, but had to be included after years of petulant behavior, showing up teammates and breaking up a team with dynastic potential in his quest to be "The Man". Plus he gave himself the nickname Black Mamba, and self-created nicknames are one of the pillars the Church of Douchery was built on; friends give you a nickname, only people who nobody likes create their own.
19. Randy Moss - Mr. "I play when I want to play" is one of the pioneering diva wideouts in the NFL, great to have on your team when things are going well, might not bother to step on the field when they're going poorly. According to Randy, people don't like him because he's real, and the realness hurts. Hurts your chances of winning?
18. Rasheed Wallace - The king of technical fouls and mediocre efforts, Wallace at times resembles an out-of-shape, middle-aged guy playing a full-court pickup game. He chucks up a bad 3, then drifts back toward the other end of the floor, unconcerned about stopping the fast break he helped create. I mean they're probably going to score anyway, why travel all that way when you're just going to be playing offense again in a few seconds?
17. Terrell Owens - Took the Moss template to version 2.0 by not only loafing, but reaming coaches and teammates on the sideline in full view of cameras. Owens has displayed a consistent pattern of being a dominant force in year one with a new team, then transforming into an absolute malcontent in year two. Rapidly expanding moles are less cancerous.
16. Brett Favre - Didn't cheat, philander or assault, but my God what an attention whore. As mentioned in prior posts, my opinion of Favre would be significantly worse if he were not the QB of my favorite NFL team; Packer fans would probably have him in the top 5, the rest of the sportsfan public inside the top 10. Three years of retirement, unretirement, rumor and waffling have worn patience thin with old #4, to the point where your average NFL fan might go into convulsions at the sight of Ed Werder standing on a dirt road. The only thing positive that could come out of any further Favre offseason shenanigans is if he announced his retirement 2 minutes into the LeBron Show tonight, and turned the tables on that thunder thief. Of course he'd need to unretire again in the middle of training camp, the Vikes need him this season. Anyway, the whole retirement-unretirement saga is going to have to happen sometime to keep him away from camp, why not tonight?
15. David Ortiz/Manny Ramirez - By all accounts pretty good guys, but this embittered Twins fan can't forgive them for slugging the Red Sox to World Series titles and becoming the toast of sports, only to be found out for using PEDs down the line. The grand majority of the enmity is aimed at Ortiz, who left the Twins organization as an oft-injured, strikeout-prone, part-time first basemen, was passed over by 30 MLB teams in waivers, then signed with Boston for a pittance and proceeded to become one of the greatest clutch hitters ever. The story wouldn't be so bad had he not compounded things by taking shots at his former team, acting as if the Twins organizational philosophy was the only thing holding him back. Turns out his power came in a bottle, and even though he knew that, it didn't stop him from using his lie to make honest people look bad. Both literally and figuratively, he is a huge douchbag for this. Manny's a douchebag for his hair alone, the drugs just put him over the top.
14. Bill Romanowski/Roberto Alomar - So they didn't assault anyone, but the actions of the spitting twins were probably a greater insult. I know I'd rather be punched than spat on, it's just degrading. We get it, you were pumped up, still a douche move.
13. Pete Rose - Bet against your own team (because you know he did), deny it forever, issues a halfhearted apology, write a book to cash in on it, then get indignant about not being forgiven and allowed into the Hall of Fame? Hit King? More like King of the Douchebags.
12. Alex Rodriguez - Beyond the steroids thing, which is bad, but pretty easy to diminish when you put it in context, A-Rod just strikes me as a smarmy little bitch. He doesn't relate to teammates, doesn't seem like a leader, disappeared in the playoffs until last year, it's impossible to like him if you're not a Yankees fan. It's doubtful the guy has ever uttered a sincere opinion in his life, everything about him seems fake.
11. Tiki Barber - Rip the crap out of your former QB and other teammates after retiring, then watch them win the Super Bowl the first season without you...Check. Cheat on, and then ditch, your 8-months pregnant wife and two kids for a 24-year old former intern...Check. Perform so poorly on TV and in life that you become a pariah who networks won't touch with a 10-foot pole...Check. Get taken to the cleaners in your divorce settlement so badly you start claiming your broke...Check. Have a nice life douche, see you never.
10. Tiger Woods - This has been covered pretty well, and you have to place the serial adulterer in front of the one who ditched his pregnant wife, them's the rules.
9. Albert Belle - But not in front of the corked-bat toting, non-autograph signing Belle, who once fired a baseball into the chest of a fan who was heckling him. Seems like a lock for steroids, but then again he might've just been naturally insane, completely possible injecting steroids would've caused his head to explode on the spot.
8. Ron Artest - Some nice image rehab with the Lakers this season, but all the good PR in the world can't overshadow the Artest Melee as the defining moment in his career, not to mention one of the worst in sports history. Adam Schefter from ESPN made the preposterous statement that tonight's LeBronathon is going to be one of those "I remember where I was when" kind of moments. That's idiotic, but the Artest Melee, now THAT was one of those moments! I was at the Fox and Hound in Denver, visiting my brother. We had just finished a game of pool and sat down at the bar, I looked up at the screen to see Artest lying on the scorer's table, then a drink flew in a bounced off the side of it, then all hell broke loose. I remember thinking "Wait a minute, is he going...what the...oh man, this is not good." But it was, it was oh so good, short of this happening again http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q8K7roZu3WU , I couldn't imagine a more fun thing to see on a telecast. In person might be a different story.
7. Roger Clemens - Another egomaniacal jerk who used steroids and HGH to get back at his old team, then rubbed their faces in it. Add lying to Congress, cheating on his wife and being an insufferable Texan a-hole to the list, and you've got all the ingredients for douche casserole.
6. Pacman Jones - Grade A moron, might've shot a guy (or at least played a role), failed roughly 26 second chances, will most likely be broke very soon, if he isn't already.
5. Todd Bertuzzi - Tried to kill a guy during a hockey game, and not in the good way. Almost succeeded.
4. Mark McGwire - Ruined the greatest single-season record in baseball, and made us all feel dirty after the fact for enjoying it while it was happening. Many baseball cheaters profited from their actions, few opened the record books and took a big, steaming turd right in the middle of it. Thanks for wrecking one of the special things about the game, Big Douche.
3. Barry Bonds - A spot higher than McGwire because he did the same thing did to the all-time home run record, and because he was an egotistical bitch who was hated by his teammates. Special section of the clubhouse, extra lockers, recliner, only certain times he could be approached; give me a break. Only saving grace about these last two is everyone knows their records are BS.
2. Scott Boras/Drew Rosenhaus - Exhibits A and B in why 'agent' is a four-letter word to many people. Money-grubbing sacks of pure evil, these two parasites have combined to create the ridiculous economics of baseball (Boras) and football (Rosenhaus) using underhanded and generally doucheworthy tactics. You can make the argument that if not them, it would've been someone else, but these guys are the pioneers, so they get the wrath, if I heard one of their private jets went down, I'd chuckle. I might feel bad about it, but God help me, I would.
1. Art Modell/Norm Green/Clay Bennett/Robert Irsay/Any other owner who has or will move a team - This one speaks for itself.
Superstars with illegitimate children numbering in double digits, neck tattoos, posses, players assaulting fans/coaches and handguns in locker rooms have all been brought to us courtesy of the Association.
Tonight an NBA player will once again break new ground by holding a one-hour special event on ESPN to announce the team he will choose to sign with in free agency. In the process, he will no doubt create a new standard for announcements of this type, at least as far as the NBA is concerned. Gone will be the days of the quiet negotiation and press conference, to be replaced by the era of free agency as an over-the-top sideshow. I'm less than enthused.
When I heard that LeBron James would be doing this, following an interminable month of blather about his potential destinations (which followed an interminable 3 years of speculation on the free agent class as a whole), only one word came to mind: Douchebag. Now I've never been the biggest LeBron guy, but I've never disliked him either. There are many positive things you can say about him, especially when compared to other athletes. He's never run afoul of the law, seems like a genuinely good teammate, has seemingly stayed faithful to his high-school sweetheart/mother of his children (of course we know appearances can't be trusted on that front, thanks Tiger); all in all, seems like a decent dude.
But that being said about LeBron the person, the same is not true of LeBron the player. Sure the stats are great, and yes, the supporting cast hasn't been there, but it's hard to recall another player so ready to anoint themselves as the greatest while having such a thin resume to back it. The line between confident and cocky for an athlete is as thin as it gets, it has to be in order for them to reach the top in the first place.
Any pro athlete was likely the best on their team since they took up the sport, outperforming their AAU and high school teammates, maybe even dominating on pure skill in college before they really had to work hard to succeed. Not only have they earned their cockiness by backing it up, they need a reserve of it to bounce back when things don't go their way. Even the best pitchers get taken deep to lose a game, even the best guards clang a wide-open shot off the rim as the clock runs out. Without an unflinching belief in themselves, they might hesitate to challenge that batter or pull the trigger on that shot in the future, and at that point, the battle is lost.
A bit of cockiness in players and coaches is a good thing. I've never been a great athlete, but I've played with a few, and most of them knew exactly how good they were. It was annoying at times, but the fact that they never got shook about the situation often kept the players around them from unraveling. LeBron James has always been looked to as that player, so it makes perfect sense he thinks a lot of his abilities, he has to in order to thrive under the pressure that's been placed on him. But many things in the last few years, from the "King James" nickname to the "Chosen 1" tattoo across his back, scream DOUCHEBAG! when juxtaposed against his lack of playoff success.
No titles, one Finals appearance that ended with his team getting swept, refusing to shake hands with opponents at the end of lost series on multiple occasions and basically quitting on his team during the final two games of last season. It begs the question, if LeBron is the chosen one, who's doing to choosing? Kevin McHale? (Of course that's a joke, we all know if McHale had the first pick in the all-time NBA draft, he'd have chosen Jordan and then traded him for LeBron.) And if that's not enough, we've got this whole free agency farce, where instead of actually playing in the playoffs, LBJ was stealing thunder by making the interview circuit to discuss his future. Rather than sit back and leave the spotlight to the players he wasn't good enough to beat, he needed to turn the attention to him, turning the game itself into an afterthought. If that's not a douchebag move, I don't know what is.
The only question now is, where does LeBron fit in the Douchebag Hierarchy? We won't truly know until he makes his announcement tonight, because although he's conducted himself douchily for the last few weeks, a lot of things can be redeemed by choosing to stay in Cleveland. Ditching the fans that worship you is one thing, going on national TV to do so in a specially organized event is quite another, and would launch him into the midst of the following on the All-Time Sports Douchebag Team.
(Note: The majority of the Felonious All-Stars belong on this list, pretty much a given with the stuff they pulled, but I'm not going to revisit that here.(http://loservillechronicles.blogspot.com/2010/05/and-while-were-on-subject.html) It's important to remember that criminals are always douchebags, but douchebags are not necessarily criminals. If only you could bet on things like how long it would be before the words "Michael Vick" and "shooting" would appear in a headline, we'd all be rich.)
I was going to do a Top 10, but once I started thinking they just kept coming to me, so here's 20 and there are probably many more I'm missing:
20. Kobe Bryant - Ton of success, obviously one of the best players ever to play the game of basketball, but had to be included after years of petulant behavior, showing up teammates and breaking up a team with dynastic potential in his quest to be "The Man". Plus he gave himself the nickname Black Mamba, and self-created nicknames are one of the pillars the Church of Douchery was built on; friends give you a nickname, only people who nobody likes create their own.
19. Randy Moss - Mr. "I play when I want to play" is one of the pioneering diva wideouts in the NFL, great to have on your team when things are going well, might not bother to step on the field when they're going poorly. According to Randy, people don't like him because he's real, and the realness hurts. Hurts your chances of winning?
18. Rasheed Wallace - The king of technical fouls and mediocre efforts, Wallace at times resembles an out-of-shape, middle-aged guy playing a full-court pickup game. He chucks up a bad 3, then drifts back toward the other end of the floor, unconcerned about stopping the fast break he helped create. I mean they're probably going to score anyway, why travel all that way when you're just going to be playing offense again in a few seconds?
17. Terrell Owens - Took the Moss template to version 2.0 by not only loafing, but reaming coaches and teammates on the sideline in full view of cameras. Owens has displayed a consistent pattern of being a dominant force in year one with a new team, then transforming into an absolute malcontent in year two. Rapidly expanding moles are less cancerous.
16. Brett Favre - Didn't cheat, philander or assault, but my God what an attention whore. As mentioned in prior posts, my opinion of Favre would be significantly worse if he were not the QB of my favorite NFL team; Packer fans would probably have him in the top 5, the rest of the sportsfan public inside the top 10. Three years of retirement, unretirement, rumor and waffling have worn patience thin with old #4, to the point where your average NFL fan might go into convulsions at the sight of Ed Werder standing on a dirt road. The only thing positive that could come out of any further Favre offseason shenanigans is if he announced his retirement 2 minutes into the LeBron Show tonight, and turned the tables on that thunder thief. Of course he'd need to unretire again in the middle of training camp, the Vikes need him this season. Anyway, the whole retirement-unretirement saga is going to have to happen sometime to keep him away from camp, why not tonight?
15. David Ortiz/Manny Ramirez - By all accounts pretty good guys, but this embittered Twins fan can't forgive them for slugging the Red Sox to World Series titles and becoming the toast of sports, only to be found out for using PEDs down the line. The grand majority of the enmity is aimed at Ortiz, who left the Twins organization as an oft-injured, strikeout-prone, part-time first basemen, was passed over by 30 MLB teams in waivers, then signed with Boston for a pittance and proceeded to become one of the greatest clutch hitters ever. The story wouldn't be so bad had he not compounded things by taking shots at his former team, acting as if the Twins organizational philosophy was the only thing holding him back. Turns out his power came in a bottle, and even though he knew that, it didn't stop him from using his lie to make honest people look bad. Both literally and figuratively, he is a huge douchbag for this. Manny's a douchebag for his hair alone, the drugs just put him over the top.
14. Bill Romanowski/Roberto Alomar - So they didn't assault anyone, but the actions of the spitting twins were probably a greater insult. I know I'd rather be punched than spat on, it's just degrading. We get it, you were pumped up, still a douche move.
13. Pete Rose - Bet against your own team (because you know he did), deny it forever, issues a halfhearted apology, write a book to cash in on it, then get indignant about not being forgiven and allowed into the Hall of Fame? Hit King? More like King of the Douchebags.
12. Alex Rodriguez - Beyond the steroids thing, which is bad, but pretty easy to diminish when you put it in context, A-Rod just strikes me as a smarmy little bitch. He doesn't relate to teammates, doesn't seem like a leader, disappeared in the playoffs until last year, it's impossible to like him if you're not a Yankees fan. It's doubtful the guy has ever uttered a sincere opinion in his life, everything about him seems fake.
11. Tiki Barber - Rip the crap out of your former QB and other teammates after retiring, then watch them win the Super Bowl the first season without you...Check. Cheat on, and then ditch, your 8-months pregnant wife and two kids for a 24-year old former intern...Check. Perform so poorly on TV and in life that you become a pariah who networks won't touch with a 10-foot pole...Check. Get taken to the cleaners in your divorce settlement so badly you start claiming your broke...Check. Have a nice life douche, see you never.
10. Tiger Woods - This has been covered pretty well, and you have to place the serial adulterer in front of the one who ditched his pregnant wife, them's the rules.
9. Albert Belle - But not in front of the corked-bat toting, non-autograph signing Belle, who once fired a baseball into the chest of a fan who was heckling him. Seems like a lock for steroids, but then again he might've just been naturally insane, completely possible injecting steroids would've caused his head to explode on the spot.
8. Ron Artest - Some nice image rehab with the Lakers this season, but all the good PR in the world can't overshadow the Artest Melee as the defining moment in his career, not to mention one of the worst in sports history. Adam Schefter from ESPN made the preposterous statement that tonight's LeBronathon is going to be one of those "I remember where I was when" kind of moments. That's idiotic, but the Artest Melee, now THAT was one of those moments! I was at the Fox and Hound in Denver, visiting my brother. We had just finished a game of pool and sat down at the bar, I looked up at the screen to see Artest lying on the scorer's table, then a drink flew in a bounced off the side of it, then all hell broke loose. I remember thinking "Wait a minute, is he going...what the...oh man, this is not good." But it was, it was oh so good, short of this happening again http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q8K7roZu3WU , I couldn't imagine a more fun thing to see on a telecast. In person might be a different story.
7. Roger Clemens - Another egomaniacal jerk who used steroids and HGH to get back at his old team, then rubbed their faces in it. Add lying to Congress, cheating on his wife and being an insufferable Texan a-hole to the list, and you've got all the ingredients for douche casserole.
6. Pacman Jones - Grade A moron, might've shot a guy (or at least played a role), failed roughly 26 second chances, will most likely be broke very soon, if he isn't already.
5. Todd Bertuzzi - Tried to kill a guy during a hockey game, and not in the good way. Almost succeeded.
4. Mark McGwire - Ruined the greatest single-season record in baseball, and made us all feel dirty after the fact for enjoying it while it was happening. Many baseball cheaters profited from their actions, few opened the record books and took a big, steaming turd right in the middle of it. Thanks for wrecking one of the special things about the game, Big Douche.
3. Barry Bonds - A spot higher than McGwire because he did the same thing did to the all-time home run record, and because he was an egotistical bitch who was hated by his teammates. Special section of the clubhouse, extra lockers, recliner, only certain times he could be approached; give me a break. Only saving grace about these last two is everyone knows their records are BS.
2. Scott Boras/Drew Rosenhaus - Exhibits A and B in why 'agent' is a four-letter word to many people. Money-grubbing sacks of pure evil, these two parasites have combined to create the ridiculous economics of baseball (Boras) and football (Rosenhaus) using underhanded and generally doucheworthy tactics. You can make the argument that if not them, it would've been someone else, but these guys are the pioneers, so they get the wrath, if I heard one of their private jets went down, I'd chuckle. I might feel bad about it, but God help me, I would.
1. Art Modell/Norm Green/Clay Bennett/Robert Irsay/Any other owner who has or will move a team - This one speaks for itself.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Christ I'm bored
I hate summer, the weather is getting steamy, and I'm losing steam.
Grind of the baseball season is upon us, can't even have fun with it right now. With 80 games left to play, any reaction is an overreaction, good games aren't that good, bad games aren't so bad, the whole sport goes "Meh" on us for about 6 weeks right when we need it most. But the time it's finally time to care about baseball again, we'll be immersed in preseason football games, college football previews, fantasy football research, basically all things football. That sounds so pleasant, I'm going to lose myself in the thought of it for a moment....(Aaaaaaahhhhh)...and now we're back to our regularly scheduled boredom.
The Twins are sitting a game back in the division, but have been playing uninspired baseball for the better part of two months and look to have the same ceiling as previous years. Tough to call another playoff appearance unnaceptable, but given the hype and the way things started out, it's also tough to get excited about. Victim of their own success I suppose, undermanned and scrappy goes a lot further than stacked and underachieving.
July is a grind man, once the 4th passes, it's pretty much just a waiting game for August to arrive. Because once it's August, we can start entertaining thoughts of September, at the moment it's just too cruel. Things have gotten so bad, I watched both a soccer game and MMA fight in the same 24 hours last weekend.
Worse yet, I'm concerned about next week after the World Cup is over. MMA you can keep, I always thought it was a bunch of meatheads rooting on a boring sport that's over too quickly to be worth the effort, and I was right. I mean the Superbowl might have 9 hours of pregame, but at least you get 3 hours of football, a two-hour wait for two minutes of second-degree assault seems excessive. It always ends with some kind of half-shoulder-full-knee-Nelson-3/4-reverse-toehold-hammerlock, where one dude turns purple as the other tries to go Pez dispenser on his head.
Not to mention half the guys watching it look like they've never been in a fight, yet can offer an in-depth critique of poor fight strategy on the spot. What hold a guy should've used, if he should've gone to the ground earlier, etc. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for criticism, but when Tavaris Jackson knuckleballs a throw to a running back in the flat or Scott Baker throws a 2-out, 2-strike cookie that a #8 hitter launches into the seats, I don't critique arm angle and footwork, I just say they suck. Because they do. Stop offering specific advice to the dude on TV and acting like you know better, he'd pummel you to death without setting down the other half of his club sandwich. If you want to test your theories, there are plenty of bars I can recommend. Only it's won't be on pay-per-view, it will be quite live; let's just say they invented the genre before anyone knew what the heck an MMA was.
If you ask me, the whole thing raises an interesting issue, why are there no fight clubs? Or are there fight clubs, and I'm just not aware of them because they have rules about not talking about them? I mean it's obvious that the word is full of dudes who love a good fight, yet apparently they have no interest in doing the fighting. Whole thing kind of reminds me of people who rail in favor of war, yet have never come anywhere near the military. There's an air of "loudmouth pussy" to the whole thing.
And no, I'm not talking about everyone who's ever wantched a fight, just the select few who have never taken/given a punch in the face, yet consider themselve authorities on the subject. If you have a Tapout shirt, a barbed wire tatoo and frosted blond hair, I'm talking to you, and you know who you are.
This is why I shouldn't be allowed around the MMA types, and believe me, I don't desire to be. Real sports need to return, damn I'm bored.
Grind of the baseball season is upon us, can't even have fun with it right now. With 80 games left to play, any reaction is an overreaction, good games aren't that good, bad games aren't so bad, the whole sport goes "Meh" on us for about 6 weeks right when we need it most. But the time it's finally time to care about baseball again, we'll be immersed in preseason football games, college football previews, fantasy football research, basically all things football. That sounds so pleasant, I'm going to lose myself in the thought of it for a moment....(Aaaaaaahhhhh)...and now we're back to our regularly scheduled boredom.
The Twins are sitting a game back in the division, but have been playing uninspired baseball for the better part of two months and look to have the same ceiling as previous years. Tough to call another playoff appearance unnaceptable, but given the hype and the way things started out, it's also tough to get excited about. Victim of their own success I suppose, undermanned and scrappy goes a lot further than stacked and underachieving.
July is a grind man, once the 4th passes, it's pretty much just a waiting game for August to arrive. Because once it's August, we can start entertaining thoughts of September, at the moment it's just too cruel. Things have gotten so bad, I watched both a soccer game and MMA fight in the same 24 hours last weekend.
Worse yet, I'm concerned about next week after the World Cup is over. MMA you can keep, I always thought it was a bunch of meatheads rooting on a boring sport that's over too quickly to be worth the effort, and I was right. I mean the Superbowl might have 9 hours of pregame, but at least you get 3 hours of football, a two-hour wait for two minutes of second-degree assault seems excessive. It always ends with some kind of half-shoulder-full-knee-Nelson-3/4-reverse-toehold-hammerlock, where one dude turns purple as the other tries to go Pez dispenser on his head.
Not to mention half the guys watching it look like they've never been in a fight, yet can offer an in-depth critique of poor fight strategy on the spot. What hold a guy should've used, if he should've gone to the ground earlier, etc. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for criticism, but when Tavaris Jackson knuckleballs a throw to a running back in the flat or Scott Baker throws a 2-out, 2-strike cookie that a #8 hitter launches into the seats, I don't critique arm angle and footwork, I just say they suck. Because they do. Stop offering specific advice to the dude on TV and acting like you know better, he'd pummel you to death without setting down the other half of his club sandwich. If you want to test your theories, there are plenty of bars I can recommend. Only it's won't be on pay-per-view, it will be quite live; let's just say they invented the genre before anyone knew what the heck an MMA was.
If you ask me, the whole thing raises an interesting issue, why are there no fight clubs? Or are there fight clubs, and I'm just not aware of them because they have rules about not talking about them? I mean it's obvious that the word is full of dudes who love a good fight, yet apparently they have no interest in doing the fighting. Whole thing kind of reminds me of people who rail in favor of war, yet have never come anywhere near the military. There's an air of "loudmouth pussy" to the whole thing.
And no, I'm not talking about everyone who's ever wantched a fight, just the select few who have never taken/given a punch in the face, yet consider themselve authorities on the subject. If you have a Tapout shirt, a barbed wire tatoo and frosted blond hair, I'm talking to you, and you know who you are.
This is why I shouldn't be allowed around the MMA types, and believe me, I don't desire to be. Real sports need to return, damn I'm bored.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Turd in the punchbowl
Sometimes in life, there are situations that appear to be 99% good, but one huge, glaring problem exists that just cannot be ignored. Take being gay for instance. Seems like something I could get into, like hanging out with guys, enjoy a fine dining and a good bottle of wine, well decorated homes, can even appreciate a good musical. Unfortunately, the whole plowing dudes thing is a major problem, and I can't stress strongly enough the word major in that sentence. Not a value judgement, if the sight of a man's hairy ass turns your gears, to each their own I suppose. It's just that the very thought of it causes me to shudder along the lines of being on a long road trip, reaching over to grab your bottle of soda, taking a big swig...and realizing too late you accidentally grabbed the bottle your buddy used to relieve himself a couple of hours back. F***ing yuck dude, absolute definition of the term "dealbreaker". (But the way, I swear I didn't intentionally use the word 'turd' in the subject line because of the topic being discussed, that's just a fortuitous comedic occurrence).
Another good example of this is the state of Wisconsin. Beer, bratwurst, cheese, great fishing, picturesque landscape, relaxed drinking laws; on the surface, it seems like a place I could be very happy. But then you throw in the sports teams, and the whole thing goes straight to hell. Living in the southeast metro, only 20 minutes from the Wisconsin border, my life gets inundated with Packer fans every fall, and I hate it. They come out of the woodwork every Sunday like cockroaches, descending on otherwise pleasant bars and generally making life miserable. Root for who you want, JUST DO IT IN YOUR OWN STATE! Whole thing casts a pall over what is otherwise a pretty solid group of people and places.
(Side note on this that came up yesterday, I've become a total hypocrite on the Brett Favre thing. For years I rolled my eyes while listening to the nonsense Packer fans would spew about the guy. Good old St. Brett who could do no wrong, how he was so tough, how he was just like a kid having fun out there, how his midseason waffling was really just a tortured soul who loved the game too much to walk away, but couldn't live with himself if he let his team or fans down with declining play. Everything was genuine, none of it was carefully contrived BS. Hurl. As recently as two years ago, if ESPN had shown him throwing passes to high schoolers, I would've screamed "ATTENTION WHORE" at the television and disparaged this annual farce for what it was, pure bullshit.
Now? Well Brett's just like a kid having fun out there! What could be a greater slice of Americana than the old gunslinger, testing out the cannon on the high school field in his hometown? Brett Favre is an American icon, and probably the toughest guy to ever play the game, did you see those pictures of his ankle last year? Nothing short of a miracle he finished that game, it's like the football gods picked him up and carried him, as a show of their awe and appreciation for the greatest player to ever step on the gridiron. I know in his heart he wants to come back and play, but the guy just couldn't bring himself to let down us Vikings fans if he's less than 100%. And I'm sure that if he misses the first couple weeks of training camp, there will be no ulterior motive, just the titanic struggle he's grappling with in his heart, brought on by the fact he loves his teammates and fans so damn much. We love you too Brett, you're the greatest. What?)
I bring all this up as prelude to the discussion of last night's Twins game, a thoroughly entertaining battle against a top AL opponent that unfortunately ended in defeat. Beyond the loss though, was how it unfolded, with a late inning comeback, a lead being scratched out...then a bullpen collapse leading to defeat. The whole thing screamed Fatal Flaw.
The sky isn't falling because of one loss, but a blown save in the 9th inning against a tough AL East team opens up to many old wounds to count. John Rauch has been a solid fill-in for Joe Nathan this season, yesterday's game was only his 4th blown save in 21 attempts, and the first of the 4 that the Twins actually ended up losing. We knew that the loss of Nathan was going to cost 4-5 victories this season, and that even giving up a lot in trade for an established closer would likely only get 2-3 of those games back. In short, the closer position was not crucial enough to warrant parting with a king's ransom to shore up. But after game's like this one, and knowing the division has come down to a single game the last two seasons, that's hardly comforting.
Tampa Bay is one of the best teams in baseball, sitting among the 4 teams that have to be considered the AL Elite (Rays, Yankees, Red Sox, Angels) over the last few seasons. This is the only group of teams that the Twins have had trouble beating over the year, unfortunately it's the group that they're guaranteed to see in the playoffs. Letting wins slip away against good teams like this is not only a blow to division title hopes, it's a nasty reminder of the postseason futility we've been dealing with for a decade, as well as the glaring hole that a non-elite closer can become. Once again, the Twins appear to have a player who is better than the rest, but unable to measure up against the best. Fortunately, there's another game (and shot at redemption) this evening.
Another good example of this is the state of Wisconsin. Beer, bratwurst, cheese, great fishing, picturesque landscape, relaxed drinking laws; on the surface, it seems like a place I could be very happy. But then you throw in the sports teams, and the whole thing goes straight to hell. Living in the southeast metro, only 20 minutes from the Wisconsin border, my life gets inundated with Packer fans every fall, and I hate it. They come out of the woodwork every Sunday like cockroaches, descending on otherwise pleasant bars and generally making life miserable. Root for who you want, JUST DO IT IN YOUR OWN STATE! Whole thing casts a pall over what is otherwise a pretty solid group of people and places.
(Side note on this that came up yesterday, I've become a total hypocrite on the Brett Favre thing. For years I rolled my eyes while listening to the nonsense Packer fans would spew about the guy. Good old St. Brett who could do no wrong, how he was so tough, how he was just like a kid having fun out there, how his midseason waffling was really just a tortured soul who loved the game too much to walk away, but couldn't live with himself if he let his team or fans down with declining play. Everything was genuine, none of it was carefully contrived BS. Hurl. As recently as two years ago, if ESPN had shown him throwing passes to high schoolers, I would've screamed "ATTENTION WHORE" at the television and disparaged this annual farce for what it was, pure bullshit.
Now? Well Brett's just like a kid having fun out there! What could be a greater slice of Americana than the old gunslinger, testing out the cannon on the high school field in his hometown? Brett Favre is an American icon, and probably the toughest guy to ever play the game, did you see those pictures of his ankle last year? Nothing short of a miracle he finished that game, it's like the football gods picked him up and carried him, as a show of their awe and appreciation for the greatest player to ever step on the gridiron. I know in his heart he wants to come back and play, but the guy just couldn't bring himself to let down us Vikings fans if he's less than 100%. And I'm sure that if he misses the first couple weeks of training camp, there will be no ulterior motive, just the titanic struggle he's grappling with in his heart, brought on by the fact he loves his teammates and fans so damn much. We love you too Brett, you're the greatest. What?)
I bring all this up as prelude to the discussion of last night's Twins game, a thoroughly entertaining battle against a top AL opponent that unfortunately ended in defeat. Beyond the loss though, was how it unfolded, with a late inning comeback, a lead being scratched out...then a bullpen collapse leading to defeat. The whole thing screamed Fatal Flaw.
The sky isn't falling because of one loss, but a blown save in the 9th inning against a tough AL East team opens up to many old wounds to count. John Rauch has been a solid fill-in for Joe Nathan this season, yesterday's game was only his 4th blown save in 21 attempts, and the first of the 4 that the Twins actually ended up losing. We knew that the loss of Nathan was going to cost 4-5 victories this season, and that even giving up a lot in trade for an established closer would likely only get 2-3 of those games back. In short, the closer position was not crucial enough to warrant parting with a king's ransom to shore up. But after game's like this one, and knowing the division has come down to a single game the last two seasons, that's hardly comforting.
Tampa Bay is one of the best teams in baseball, sitting among the 4 teams that have to be considered the AL Elite (Rays, Yankees, Red Sox, Angels) over the last few seasons. This is the only group of teams that the Twins have had trouble beating over the year, unfortunately it's the group that they're guaranteed to see in the playoffs. Letting wins slip away against good teams like this is not only a blow to division title hopes, it's a nasty reminder of the postseason futility we've been dealing with for a decade, as well as the glaring hole that a non-elite closer can become. Once again, the Twins appear to have a player who is better than the rest, but unable to measure up against the best. Fortunately, there's another game (and shot at redemption) this evening.
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