A Blog Called Quest

Ignorance Is Not Bliss

2009-08-02T15:54:00.000-07:00

I will preface this rant by saying that I know that being a baseball announcer, particularly on radio, is not easy. There is a lot of air time to fill between pitches, and sometimes an announcer can't help but ramble on a little bit. However, it's gotten to the point where there is simply no excuse for some of the stupid things that are said on the air these days. Whether it be ignoring, or being ignorant of, available statistics, or spouting stupid cliches, baseball announcers far too frequently do far too little to educate their audience. In reality, that's a huge part of their job.

Take for example last Thursday's game between the Mets and the Rockies. Daniel Murphy made a nice play at first base, and Mets TV play-by-play man Gary Cohen said something along the lines of, "wow, Murphy has simply been a different player since moving to first base." As Mets fans know, he opened the season in left field but was such a disaster there that the Mets put him at first base when Carlos Delgado got injured. Now, there is some truth to what Cohen is saying. Murphy has gone from being a defensive liability to being at least average for his position with the leather. But the implication in Cohen's comment was that Murphy, having been freed from the pressures of left field, was no longer letting his struggles in the field affect him mentally and allowing him to flourish as a player. That could not be further from the truth. Check out his splits.

As a first baseman .237/.310/.362 in 200 plate appearances
As a leftfielder .260/.339/.390 in 116 plate appearances

As a turns out, he has been a different player at first base—a worse one. And what bothers me about Cohen's statement is that this information is available at his fingertips, literally. You can go to any number of baseball websites to get this info, and there is a laptop sitting between Cohen and his color commentator(s) in the booth! By not sharing this information with the audience, Cohen is being lazy and misleading his audience. I don't mean to pick on Cohen, who is usually quite good and honest in his assessment of the Mets. But this type of analysis is all too typical of modern baseball announcers. Like, for example, the Mets radio announcers.

I was listening today as I tried to sweat out my hangover on a run through the park, and I had to laugh at a few gems from announcer Wayne Hagin. First, he was talking about Mets relievers Pat Misch, and he said something like, "Misch has only allowed two runs in his last eight-plus innings of work, but the problem is that he has allowed three of his 14 inherited runners to score. As you now, the key to being a good reliever is keeping those runners on base."

Besides being the master of the obvious, Hagin's comment is problematic for all sorts of reasons. For starters, I have no idea if that is actually a good or bad strand percentage. And if somone like me, whose job and hobby is baseball, doesn't know, than I am sure the average fan does not know. So we have absolutely no context for this statistic he just spouted. Second, this stat doesn't pass the sniff test. Allowing just three of 14 inherited runners (21.4%) sounds pretty good to me. Sure enough, it is! The MLB average is 33%, so Misch has actually been doing a damn good job as a Mets at preventing inherited runners from scoring, so why didn't Hagin look this up like I just did? When talking about esoteric statistics, context matters more than ever, and this was just plain laziness.

That wasn't even Hagin's worst crime that I heard in the 30 minutes I was listening. While discussing Jon Garland, who was shutting down the Mets, Hagin went on and on about how Garland has won 18 games twice, and won 14 last year. But this year, he is just 5-10 (now 6-10 after his CG against the Mets) and not pitching as well. Maybe the 14 wins had something to do with pitching for the team with the best record in baseball last season (the Angels), while the losing record has something to do with pitching for a team with the ninth-worst record in MLB this year (the D-backs). Based on ERA+, a stat that measures ERA relative to the league average and adjust for ballpark effects, Garland is actually better this year. His ERA+ last year was 91 (100 is average), and its 102 this year, and Baseball Reference hasn't even updated it yet after his performance against the Mets. And if you don't want to get into ERA+, you can simply mention that Garland's ERA is actually quite better this year, and his 14 wins last year were clearly a result of playing for a great team. Heck, he had a 4.90 ERA in 2008, and this year it is 4.26. (Yes, he went to the non-DH league, but he is also pitching in one of the better hitter's parks around, so that evens things out a bit.) Point is, he is actually pitching better this year, but his record is worse because he pitches for a mediocre team. Reason #2,362 why wins are a dumb stat to measure pitcher performance.

I realize that I look at the game with a statistical bent, and I don't expect every announcer and fan to look at the game in the same way I do. However, if your job is to be a baseball announcer, you should be aware of these stats, and you should show a willingness to share this data with your audience. Even if you don't necessarily agree with it, you'll be educating your audience, and illuminating the discussion of the game. And all of this can be done without having to bring in VORP, WARP, or any other advanced metric that gives statheads a bad rap. Ignorance, as it turns out, is not bliss.

Bill James And Music? Read On.

2009-07-30T19:37:00.000-07:00

This actually isn't another post about baseball, but it will use a baseball analogy. Allow me to explain.

In a recent blog post about Luke Hochevar's 13 strikeouts, no walk performance last weekend, Joe Posnanski brought up an old Bill James theory called "signature significance." The idea is that you typically can't glean too much from one pitching performance, but there are some performances that are so dominant, that they are indicative for greatness. In James' example, if a pitcher strikes out 15 without walking anyone, that probably means the pitcher is a star. In fact, it's more indicative than a no-hitter would be. There have been 21 pitchers in history to turn the 15 K, 0 BB trick, and 20 of them were either Hall of Famers or All-Star quality. The odd man out is Sterling Hitchcock, and even he pitched in the big leagues for more than a decade.

Anyway, I've started to wonder if "signature significance" applies to other walks of life. I'm headed to the All Points West music festival tomorrow, and while there a number of acts that I am quite familiar with (Heartless Bastards, Q-Tip, Vampire Weekend, Jay-Z), I've been trying to check out some of the other performers who I don't know nearly as well. One of those acts is Ra Ra Riot, and I was immediately blown away when I went to their MySpace page and listened to "Can You Tell." Quite simply, it's a fucking amazing song. If you disagree, I'm not sure we can be friends. Great melody, simple, yet affective, lyrics, and a fantastic arrangement. I've probably listened to it roughly 25 times in the last two days.

(My only question is, what does "I'm standing by your sister fair," mean? Every other lyric makes perfect sense besides that one.)

So this song got me thinking, does the ability to produce one song on this level indicate a truly special ability to create music? I downloaded the rest of Ra Ra Riot's album, and though I haven't listened to it intently, I can say with confidence that it's good. But does one transcendent song guarantee a band is going to be great? And even if for some insane reason you don't think this song is great, I think you get the point.

I know what you're probably thinking. There are tons of one-hit wonders out there, and none of those are great artists. However, let's be honest about most one-hit wonders, the songs are usually catchy, but they're not great. I can listen to "Walkin' On Sunshine" everyday for the rest of my life and I won't tire of it, but that doesn't mean that it's a great song, and Katrina And The Waves a great band. It's a fun song that's incredibly catchy, but not transcendent. There is a difference.

(Sadly, YouTube won't let me embed the video for "Walkin' On Sunshine," but here's the link if you're interested.)

Obviously, judging signature significance for bands is far more subjective than it is for baseball. I'm actually inclined to think it doesn't exist, but I can't think of a good example. However, that doesn't mean it's not out there. Typically, when someone is trying to get me hooked on a new band, they will play me that band's best song. And if I think that song is worthy, then I will decide that the band must at least be decent if they made at least one song that good. So maybe, to borrow a phrase from the Geto Boys, my mind's playing tricks on me.

I can say with certainty that "signature significance" does not exist for filmmakers, and I can think of two examples. "Swingers" is an iconic movie, and Jon Favreau hasn't made a good one since. The same goes for "The Sixth Sense," which is the only M. Night Shyamalan movie worth a crap.

Anyway, I'm pretty fucking pumped for All Points West. I was disappointed when The Beastie Boys had to cancel cause of cancer (feel better, MCA!), because I have never seen them before. And like every white kid who grew up in NYC from 1986-2001, I went through a huge Beastie Boys phase during high school. Maybe teenagers are still going through Beastie Boys phases, but I doubt it. Since Q-Tip will also be at APW, I figured he would come on to do "Get It Together" with the Beasties. I'm disappointed that won't happen. Jay-Z, however, is a more-than-adequate replacement. I was at Hot 97 Summer Jam in 2001 when he first performed "The Takeover" and started his beef with Nas, so he's got a lot to live up to. Maybe he'll start shit with Soulja Boy. That would be awesome.

The Hits Just Keep On Coming

2009-07-27T15:52:00.000-07:00

You know, if not for the train wreck that is my favorite baseball team, this blog would probably die. Fortunately, the Mets keep giving me things to write about, and one day soon I will get back to weaving pop culture irreverence into this space. Until then, how about those Mets?

They finally do the smart thing by firing assistant GM Tony Bernazard who has been the source all sorts of bad press of late, but then GM Omar Minaya undermines any good press he might have gotten by attacking Daily News writer Adam Rubin, the guy who broke the story that paved the way for Bernazard's firing.

For those who missed it, Minaya essentially accused Rubin of trying to take down Bernazard in the paper as a way of paving the way for him (Rubin) to get a job in the organization. Because, as Minaya says, Rubin has been lobbying for a job with the Mets organization for years. As someone who loves the Mets, works in the media, and has covered the Mets organization, this is right in my wheelhouse.

In the interest of full disclosure, I will say that when I was working at Baseball America, Adam Rubin was our Mets correspondent. At the time, I was responsible for rating the prospects in the Mets organization, so he and I exchanged e-mails from time to time. We are not close and have not been in touch in years, and I don't know him well enough to know if any of these allegations are true. And as far I'm concerned, that point is moot anyway. The reality of the situation is that pretty much everything I have ever heard about Bernazard is bad, and that goes back a few years. Even Ken Davidoff, a baseball writer for Newsday, wrote the following on his Twitter account: "Bernazard firing is a victory for humankind." So yeah, Rubin is not the only writer who was not a fan of Bernazard. And based on what came out about him in the last week, he probably deserved to be fired.

That said, let's go back to Minaya's press conference and dissect this debacle step by step.

1) Let's say Rubin has lobbied for a job with the organization, that is a problem. He needs to be objective as the Mets beat writer, and this would clearly compromise him. However, he's not an idiot. He knows he was not about to go from beat writer to VP of player development, which was Bernazard's job. Omar's accusation just doesn't make sense. And if Rubin was trying to curry favor with the Mets brass, why would he be ripping them to shreds in The Daily News? If anything, wouldn't he be praising the Mets? If I want a job with the Mets, I'm not writing lengthy features in the Sunday edition that discuss how Minaya has ruined the farm system. Two Sundays ago, that is what Rubin did.

2) Even if Rubin has lobbied for a job with the Mets, that does not absolve Bernazard's behavior. In fact, by firing Bernazard, the Mets are acknowleding that everything Rubin wrote about Bernazard is true. If it wasn't true, shouldn't they be supporting Bernazard, as opposed to giving him the heave-ho? And what's even more laughable is that the press release regarding the firing said, "Prior to a series of articles published in the media, our Baseball Operations and Human Resources departments had begun looking into several matters involving Tony."

For starters, it's unlikely that this is even true. I doubt the Mets started to investigate until the press got bad, and Omar basically said as much in the press conference. But say let's it's true, and the club was looking into Bernazard before Rubin broke the story of him tearing off his shirt and challenging a minor league team to a fight. If it is true, it means that the organization was already skeptical of Bernazard's antics, and didn't need guys like Adam Rubin to point it out. Therefore, Minaya makes no sense when he questions how all the negative stories about Bernazard seemed to come from the same source, because they knew about all this stuff even before Rubin reported it.

3) Oh, and not all the negative stories came from Rubin. The one about Bernazard yelling at a Mets baseball operations employee who suggested Bernazard wait until the inning was over before taking the seat of a D-backs' scout, that was written by Bill Madden.

4) What is Minaya trying to gain? Let's say Rubin violated some ethical code of journalism by lobbying for a job, that doesn't make Bernazard (or the Mets) any less of a disaster (see #2). How is it possible for a team that seems to be consumed with PR, so bad at it? I had the press conference on at my desk, and I muted it because Minaya was so awkward in his explanation of the firing. It was only when someone alerted me to the Rubin debacle that I turned on the volume. How hard would it have been for Omar to say, "Bernazard acted in a manner that we felt did not represent this organization. It was hard to let him go because he is a friend of mine, but we were left with no choice after our internal investigation found that he acted inappropriately on a number of occasions." Seriously, would that really have been so hard? And then, all he would need to do is keep paraphrasing that in some form each time a reporter asked you a question.

All that being said, this is by far my favorite Mets-related controversy of the season, so I'm really enjoying it. But if it turns out that Omar was lying about Rubin's job inquiries, and this hurts Rubin's career, I'll feel less good about it.

Hey Now, You're An All-Star

2009-07-14T20:25:00.000-07:00

OK, so how cool is Obama? He was giving shit to Pujols about not winning the home run derby in his home park, and this came after him signing an autograph for Ichiro. And Ichiro looked like a giddy little school girl as he waited for Obama’s signature.

Anyway, I’m watching the All-Star Game and I have to say that I’m kind of enjoying it. (Other than Sherryl Crow’s performance, I hate her.) I don’t really like the whole, “this time it counts” thing, but at least it makes the game relevant to some degree. As I discussed in an a piece I wrote for Baseball Prospectus last summer, I just wish that they would commit to it being a meaningful game. That means letting the best players play the entire game (rotating pitchers, of course), as opposed to treating it like a Little League game. And yes, I’m willing to sacrifice Freddy Sanchez’s at-bats for the cause. Sorry, Pirates fans.

But even if MLB decides to ignore my preference, that’s fine with me. I’ve come to the realization that the All-Star Game, as well as the home run derby, is not geared toward the hyper-obsessive fan such as myself. I used to love, and I mean LOVE, the All-Star Game when I was a kid. So much so that I remember forcing my father to record the end of the 1987 game after I was told I had to go to bed. I watched it the next day after I got back from camp, and I got to see Tim Raines hit a two-run triple in the top of the 13th inning to give the NL the 2-0 win. (Note: I looked that up, but I definitely remember Raines getting an extra-base hit to win it. But I did not recall that it was a triple to score Ozzie Virgil and Hubie Brooks, or that Sid Fernandez got the save. Go Mets!)

My favorite part of the All-Star Game as a kid was that the Mets wore white cleats. I don’t know why, but I got a huge kick out of this. I guess it indicated what a special occasion it was, because I never understood why the Mets didn’t wear white cleats during the regular season. In retrospect, that was probably a good things because white cleats look dumb on baseball players, but when I was eight years old, seeing the Mets wear white cleats represented status. As a kid, that meant something. Ah, the simple pleasures.

Stay Hot, Mets

2009-07-11T13:49:00.001-07:00

You know, there’s nothing quite like a perplexing Mets transaction to end this blog’s hiatus. I have a million thoughts on this Jeff Francoeur-for-Ryan Church swap, in fact, it might be more like a billion. I could probably write a book about my thoughts on this trade and what it says about how teams judge performance. Frankly, I don’t really know where to begin, and I apologize in advance if I start rambling.

My first recollection of Jeff Francoeur is seeing him play for the Myrtle Beach Pelicans in 2004. My friend Dan and I took a road trip down to Myrtle and went to games in Philly, Richmond and Durham along the way. The game in Myrtle Beach, however, was by far the most fun. Not only was the weather absolutely gorgeous, but the Pelicans featured Franoeur and Brian McCann, who we knew from our John Sickels’ prospect book as two of the game’s best prospects. (The game also featured a guy named Nathan Panther, quite possibly the coolest name ever. But I digress.)

On that day, it was clear that Frenchy was by far the most talented player on the field. He was a gazelle chasing down flies in right, and he absolutely crushed two balls to the warning track. I realize that doesn’t sound that impressive, but hitting one out of Myrtle Beach is like hitting one out of Yellowstone. That place is enormous, and the wind is coming in from the ocean. So getting it to the track is a feat in it’s own right.

The point is that Francoeur stood out as obviously the most talented, and that’s often hard to do in a baseball. If you took an alien to a Cleveland Cavaliers game, it would have no trouble identifying LeBron as the best player out there. But if you took that same alien to the Mets game today, it might not be able to identify David Wright as the Mets best player by far. He might strike out twice and make a throwing error, while Angel Pagan hits a double, steals a base, and makes a diving catch in the outfield. Not to mention the fact that Pagan looks good in a baseball uniform. Baseball is not a game of instant satisfaction. You need to see lots and lots of games before you can decide who is the best. Why the fuck else do you think they play 162 games?

And that’s the problem with Francoeur. When he does something good (and these days, that’s rare) he looks good doing it. Like Pagan, he looks good in a baseball uniform. He’s sinewy, and he has what scouts like to call a “high ass.” And yes, this a good thing. Oh, and he wears his socks in such a way that makes him look like a ballplayer. When he connects, he can hit it a country mile. And when he unleashes a throw from right, he gives new meaning to the term “frozen rope.” So even though there are thousands and thousands of at-bats that tell us that Jeff Francoeur is a bad major league baseball player, a lot of people simply cannot believe it because our eyes see a superstar. And even if doesn’t play like one now, he once did, and he sure as shit looks like one. Ryan Church, on the other hand, never does anything on a baseball field that amazes you. Check that. With the exception of missing third base and costing the Mets a win, Ryan Curch never does anything on a baseball field that amazes you. As a result, he just seems like a guy. And it’s true, Ryan Church is nothing special.

This is a phenomenon Joe Posnanski discusses in his analysis of the Royals trade for Yuniesky Betancourt. He refers to it as the power of everlasting promise, and that is something Francoeur has coming out of his cleats. For God’s sake, he was dubbed “The Natural” on the cover of Sports Illustrated. When a player shows promise at a young age and does things the way we think they are supposed to be done and looks the part while doing it, they continually get the benefit of the doubt. If Francouer hadn’t hit .400 for the first three weeks of his career, he would have been in the minors for most of the last two years because his sub-.300 OBP has shown him to be an out machine unseen since the days of Rey Ordonez.

Speaking of the Betancourt deal, when I first heard about it, my reaction was, “that’s something the Mets would do.” And after the Frenchy trade, I am now convinced the Mets are essentially the Royals, but with a bigger bank account. Maybe that should be their promotional slogan next year.

The problem with the Francoeur trade from a Mets perspective is not that they gave up Ryan Church. The problem with this trade is what it says about the Mets line of thinking. Basically, the Mets are saying, “I don’t care that Luis Castillo has had a higher OPS than Frenchy the last two years, he looks good to us.” This is essentially the same line of thinking that led to them choosing Omir Santos over Ramon Castro for reasons that I still cannot comprehend.

To me, this trade reeks of arrogance. Are the Mets really that confident that they are smarter than the Braves? I’ve got 20 years of evidence that says otherwise. And when all semi-advanced metrics say that Frenchy is not only below average, but below replacement level, then you better be sure you know what you’re doing, because I can’t think of any other reason that you would seek out the Braves to acquire Francoeur, which is apparently what the Mets did. Because as bad as the Mets have been, some of the guys they have been playing in left and right (Evans, Reed, Tatis) are actually performing better than Frenchy has for the last season and a half.

Maybe the Mets believe they can “fix” Frenchy and unleash the 2005 version of him. I sure hope so. And in many ways, this is a referendum on the organization’s ability to evaluate talent. Because if you’re clearly not a club that evaluates players based on stats, and the Mets have proved that they aren’t, then you better be good at scouting. (In reality, you should be good at both, but we can’t have everything.) This is what disappoints me most about the Mets, I don’t think they give a rats ass about performance evaluation. Omar Minaya might be a good scout, but I don’t think he has a nuanced feel for a statistical analysis, nor does anyone else in the organization. If they did, they wouldn’t have chosen Santos over Castro, and sought out a trade for Francoeur. The Mets have the most resources of an NL team, yet they have made the playoffs just three times since 1988! My friends have heard me say it before, and I’ll say it again: No team in baseball (and possible all American pro sports) does less with more than the Mets.

The one semi-interesting yet fairly irrelevant thing I found about Frenchy is this, and we can thank Baseball Reference’s play index for this discovery. As has been laughably noted elsewhere, Omar Minaya praised Francoeur for his ability to “play in a lot of games,” so I decided to see how he stacks up against other people who have played in 162 games in a season. In 2006, Frenchy became just one of two players in history to play in all 162 games while striking out more than 120 times and posting an OBP less than or equal to .300. The other? Well that would be Sammy Sosa in 1997, the year before he hit 66 home runs. Sadly, since Frenchy did this three years ago, we can’t even dream of a home run breakout, because he hasn’t even been good enough to be allowed to play 162 games in any of the last two years. Sigh.

A Very Dirty Sequel

2009-05-26T20:51:00.000-07:00

I was in St. Louis for a wedding recently, and as my girlfriend and I were recovering from our hangovers on Sunday morning, we found ourselves watching Dirty Dancing.

I’ll be honest, I’ve always enjoyed Dirty Dancing despite the fact that it's pretty stupid. I guess it's what we like to call a "guilty pleasure." I remember when it first came out, my sister was absolutely obsessed with it. I think she saw it in the theater like five times, and she even had a giant poster in her room that featured Patrick Swayze sprawled out on the floor and unleashing those hungry eyes made famous by the film’s soundtrack. (Sorry to sell you out, Sis!) Speaking of the soundtrack, can someone explain to me why they mixed classic 1960s music with random 1980s songs? One minute we're listening to "Do You Love Me?" (or whatever that song is called), the next minute Swayze is singing "She's Like The Wind." This never made sense to me. Moving on.

Even though I’ve seen the movie a number of times, I’ve never really taken the time to think about it too critically—until now. And frankly, I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to Baby et al after the final dance. Are we supposed to think that they lived happily after? If not, then what is really the point? Some resort guest having a fling with an employee is nothing earth-shattering. Isn’t that why guys like Johnny and Robbie take those jobs? After college, my friend and I were thinking of trying to get a job at a resort to kill some time while we figured out our lives. I remember relaying this resort idea to a family friend in front of my mother. The friend said, “well, you better pack a lot of condoms.!” Yes, awkward.

I’d like to think that Baby and Johnny tried to make things work after their summer at Kellerman’s, and I’ve even laid out an idea for a sequel. I know they made that “Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights,” but that doesn’t count. Here’s how I see Dirty Dancing 2 playing out.

After the way things ended in the Catskills, there was no way Baby and Johnny were just going to let their romance die. They wowed the crowd, Mr. Houseman finally accepted Johnny, and Penny looked healthy. It would just be a waste to not try and build on that progress.

As we know, Baby was headed to Mt. Holyoke that fall, and we can only assume that she would have become heavily involved in their dance program. And surely, after learning all those sweet Mambo moves, she was the freshman sensation that fall. Of course, not all was well. Long-distance relationships are hard enough in the era of cell phones and e-mail, but they were even harder back in the 1960s. There was probably only one phone per hall, so that would make phone sex pretty much impossible. And I’d have to think Johnny wasn’t very good at writing letters. Besides, we know he had just been accepted into the housepainters union, so he was probably busy with that. So yeah, there would need to be some long-distance drama.

The other subplot that probably needs to be explored is Baby at an all-girls school. Remember, she chose Mt. Holyoke before meeting Johnny, and it wouldn’t be surprising if the Housemans sort of assumed she played for the other team. Based on the way her family treated her, it didn’t seem like Baby had ever really been involved with many guys. So even though she had Johnny, we can only assume that many of the lesbians at Mt. Holyoke were intrigued by the star freshman dancer. Johnny, always the ladies man, would surely want to exploit this on his frequent trips up to visit her. Remember, this is the 1960s, and we know baby has some hippy tendencies. (You see where I am going with this?) Let’s just say that Baby, Johnny end up in an open relationship with a senior named Mary. Moving on.

Baby ends up choreographing a big Mambo number for the spring recital, but she is having trouble teaching some of the more difficult steps. Being the nice guy that he is, Johnny ends up spending some of his spare time bringing it all together. The show is a huge success, and the Mt. Holyoke dance department is impressed by Johnny’s teaching ability, and they offer him a job as a guest instructor. He jumps at the opportunity to teach dancing full time while also being with Baby. They end up moving in together, and open up a private dance studio in Northamtpon as soon as Baby graduates.

I realize I might have jumped back and forth a little bit between tenses in that treatment right there, but I defy you to find a fan of the original that would not watch this sequel. And please, don’t try to steal this idea, it’s now been documented as mine thanks to the magic of blogspot.

Dear John Olerud*

2009-05-13T18:29:00.000-07:00

I’ve been working on a massive post about a movie I recently re-watched and have a bunch of new thoughts on, but please indulge me with a post about a topic even more dear to my heart. You guessed it, that means another Mets post!

For the first time in a while I’m actually sort of feeling good about the Mets. For starters, they’re playing pretty well, and they are 5-1 in games I’ve attended this year, including Tuesday’s late-inning comeback against the Braves. (Yes, I’ve already been to six games. What of it?) Additionally, I am in the midst of reading “Faith And Fear In Flushing,” written by Greg Prince, who also writes a blog of the same name. Prince has a gift for making even the most loathsome and irritating Mets team seem somewhat loveable, and this book is highly enjoyable for any obsessive Mets fan.

When I was at the game on Friday, I was talking to my friend about a trivia question I saw on Joe Posnanski’s blog. Who has the highest career OPS as Mets (minimum 2,000 plate appearances)?

Like me, you’re first answer is probably Mike Piazza. And, like me, you’d be wrong. The answer, much to my surprise, is John Olerud. For obvious reasons, this got me doing some research on Olerud and the Mets.

For starters, the top five Mets OPS (min. 2,000 PAs) looks like this.

1. John Olerud .926
2. David Wright .921
3. Mike Piazza .915
4. Darryl Strawberry .879
5. Carlos Beltran .877

When you think about it a bit, this makes sense. Remember, John Olerud only spent three years with the Mets, and it was during what is typically the tail end of a player’s peak (age 28-30). Unlike Piazza, he was never around for his decline phase to drag down his OPS. If you take Piazza’s first three full years as a Met, which were, not coincidentally, his three best years, he had an OPS of .967.

Piazza isn’t really the point of all this. The point is that I think most Mets have forgotten just how good Olerud was for the Mets. More specifically, I think they’ve forgotten just how good Olerud was in 1998.

Most fans associate 1998 with Sosa and McGwire, the year we all fell back in love with baseball after the strike. In reality, it was the summer of Olerud. Did you remember that Olerud hit .354 that summer? I didn’t. Did you remember that he walked 96 times and struck out 73 times? I didn’t? Did you remember that his .447 OBP was second only to McGwire in all of baseball, higher than Bonds, and 70 points higher than Sosa? I definitely did not remember that.

In fact, Olerud’s adjusted OPS, which is a stat that that adjusts for home park and compares it to league average, was 163 (100 is average), and Sosa’s was 160. In the year that Sosa hit 66 homers and won NL MVP, Olerud had a higher adjusted OPS! How did I not know this?

And on top of all that, Olerud finished 12th in MVP voting! And this was for a team that was in contention until the last day of the season. I realize we have become far more savvy to the importance of OBP and park factors in the last 11 years (or at least I have), but that’s absurd. Then again, Sosa won MVP in a landslide, and I’m pretty sure I wrote a column in my college saying he should. Based on what I know now, McGwire was clearly a lot more valuable. And Olerud might have been as well.

*Prior to the season, I named my fantasy baseball team "Dear John Olerud." This was before I made my Olerud OPS revelation. Now I feel even better about my team name.

The Mets: Torture, Or Just Painful?

2009-04-29T18:04:00.000-07:00

I will preface this post by saying that the impact of baseball managers is typically overstated. And usually, I do not like to play the game of blaming a manager or coach for a team’s failures.

Jerry Manuel is not the guy who can’t seem to drive in get a runner in from third with less than two outs. That’s David Wright. He is also not the guy who can’t seem to throw a freaking strike. That’s Ollie Perez. He is also not the big-name reliever who was brought in to protect one-run leads in the eighth inning, only to blow the first big spot he was put into. That’s J.J. Putz. So yes, Manuel is far from the only person to blame for the Mets malaise. What he is, however, is an idiot.

I hate to be harsh, but how else do you explain pinch-hitting Omir Santos for Ramon Castro in the ninth inning of a game with the bases loaded trailing by one run? Seriously, I’m asking, because I have no fucking clue.

Santos is a journeyman minor leaguer with a career .651 OPS. Yes, he hit a grand slam the other day and that was nice, but even a blind horse finds water sometimes. He’s 28 years old and it is pretty clear that by the standard of professional baseball, he is an awful hitter. Castro, on the other hand has a career .723 OPS in the MAJOR LEAGUES. That’s nothing special, but still significantly better. He also had two hits on the day, which means you can’t argue that you are going with the guy that was swinging the hot bat.

Apparently, when asked, Manuel said something about Santos’ short swing being better suited to face the hard-throwing Matt Lindstrom (the same Matt Lindstrom, mind you, that Omar Minaya once gave away in a trade, but that’s another story). Is he kidding? If his swing was short and sweet, then how come he slugged a robust .323 last year in Triple-A. Oh, and by the way, earlier in the game Castro gotten a hit off Josh Johnson, who was pumping in fastballs at 98 mph.

This decision flies in the face of logic. And as my college friends can tell you, logic is my specialty. If you ask them, it pretty much defines me. My favorite part of watching a baseball game is trying to figure out the best strategy to maximize the chances of success (yes, I’m a nerd). Typically, a manager’s decision is pretty easy. But sometimes, particularly late in games, it can get complex. This, however, was not one of those times. The best part was that Santos was down in the bullpen when it happened, so it took like three minutes between batters for someone to go get him. Which can only mean that he thought Manuel crazy too. And in addition to being a horseshit strategic move, what does it say to Castro? When you’re getting pinch-hit for by Omir freaking Santos, it’s pretty freaking clear your manager has no faith in you.

If the average person made a decision that bad in their job, it’s likely they would be fired. That’s how idiotic it was. I now have absolutely no faith in Manuel’s ability to make the right decision, which only further reduces my faith in this team.

I realize that I’m projecting my frustration with the Mets (and Swine Flu!) to some degree, but holy shit that was stupid. (End rant.)

Natalie Portman Should Sue

2009-04-22T17:03:00.000-07:00

I’ve been to my fair share of concerts in my life. And like most people, I typically try and avoid the opening act. That’s not always a smart move because I miss out on a good band I’ve never heard of, but it’s typically the right thing to do. Some opening acts eventually become headliners, but most opening acts are opening acts for a reason. I was reminded of this on Monday night when I went to Roseland to see Lily Allen (insert joke about my girly music taste here), and the opening act was some band called Natalie Portman’s Shaved Head.

As per usual, I called the venue to see what the set times were. This allows me to head in about halfway through the opener’s set, while making sure I don’t miss the headliner. Unfortunately, NPSH started late, and I had to endure most of their set. To quote Homer Simpson, “I don’t want to say they sucked . . . but they were the suckiest bunch of sucks who ever did suck.”

I’m typically pretty tolerant when it comes to music. And while I don’t completely agree with my friend Dan Squadron who says, “I like every band’s two best songs,” I feel like any band good enough to get a gig at Roseland has at least one good song. Apparently not.

At one point there was a break in the set, and I thought NPSH might be done. They were actually just switching singers, allowing a female member of the band to take the mic. I was hopeful that this might be where things picked up, but instead they broke into a song in which the chorus was her screaming, “do you like my ponytail? My sideways ponytail!” Don’t believe me? See for yourself.

They followed that up with a song about facial hair. At least that one was sung by a dude. I get that this group is trying to be silly. Even if their name doesn’t get this across, their music certainly does. The problem is that it’s just bad music. It’s like listening to Girl Talk, if Girl Talk used only bad songs and made no effort to blend them. Truly cacophonous.

As for Lily Allen, she was excellent. I’m not a huge fan, but I enjoy her stuff. My sister was getting tickets, so I told her to get two more for my girlfriend and me. Besides sounding really good live, Allen is also quite funny. “Cheeky,” if you will. Towards the end of her set, Allen said, “alright, this is my last song. Well, it’s not actually my last song, but I have to pretend like it is. You know the drill.” I’ve always thought the whole encore thing was always a little silly. I’d prefer to live in a world in which encores were not customary, but only given on special occasions when the crowd truly demanded it. The way it’s done now is a charade, and props to Lily Allen for acknowledging it.

The Next Big Thing

2009-04-17T13:33:00.000-07:00

If you've been reading this blog, you know I love to throw out theories. And I have another theory that I want to share with you. Those of you who hang out with me regularly have probably heard this theory before, but there is nothing I can do about that. Here it is again.

This is a theory that first came to me when I was recently re-watching "Forgetting Sarah Marshall," and I became convinced of its merits upon seeing "I Love You, Man." The theory is as follows: Jason Segel is the next Tom Hanks.

I don't know why exactly this came to me, but ever since I thought of it I have become convinced that within the next five years Segel is going to be one of the biggest movie stars on the planet. And I think it's because of a certainly quality he shares with Hanks that I am not exactly sure I can explain. The best way I can put might be this: he's inclusive.

When you watch Segel in movies or on "How I Met Your Mother," you always feel like you're in on the joke. It's the same quality that Hanks had in "Big" and "Bachelor Party," and it makes them both feel very accessible. Hanks has lost a bit of this over the years as he has become a mega-star, but this was a huge part of his appeal in the 1980s. Part of my problem with a lot of the Judd Apatow mafia (Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill, Bill Hader) is that I've started to get the sense that they think they are a little too cool for school. With Segel, however, that's not the case. He's just an unpretentious goofball who is extremely likeable in pretty much everything he does. And like Hanks, he's good looking, but not too good looking, and I think this works to his benefit. It makes him more accessible, in fact. And though Segel hasn't done much comedy in his career, I'm convinced he has the gravitas to pull off drama. We actually know he does because he did it on "Freaks And Geeks."

I mean, can't you just envision Segel's career arc from here? He's going to keep doing "How I Met Your Mother" for a couple of years, and he is set to co-write the next Muppet movie. That is obviously going to be a huge hit. I mean, after seeing bits of the Dracula musical in "Forgetting Sarah Marshall," how can it not be great? He'll probably get some supporting roles in Apatow-type films here and there, and then there will be the inevitable story in "Entertainment Weekly" in which Segel says, "you know, I'm thinking I might like to take on some more dramatic roles." Then he'll end up starring with Kate Winslet in some Charlie Kaufman flick about a couple who decides to roller skate across Canada. Segel will get nominated for an Oscar, and even though he won't win, it will be the first step towards his dramatic film career. And then 10 years after that we will all laugh ironically when "Knocked Up" is on cable and think, "remember when Jason Segel used to do comedy? Man, that was a long time ago!"

The problem with my Segel=Hanks theory is that it leaves me conflicted. On the one hand, I like being right, and it would give me great pleasure to still be e-mailing people this link in 10 years when Jason Segel is all the rage with the subject line "see, I told you so." On the other hand, I think there is a dearth of quality comedy (say that 10 times fast), and it would be sad if one of the finest comedic actors around stopped doing comedy. I still lament the fact that Hanks stopped doing comedy because he is so good at it. In case you've forgotten, watch any number of SNL's he's hosted to see what I'm talking about. So even if I win, we all lose. It's quite a conundrum.

Say It Ain't So

2009-04-09T17:01:00.000-07:00

I was browsing through Facebook today, and I noticed that a couple of my friends had taken the “what baseball player are you quiz?” By rule, I typically never take these kinds of quizzes because, let’s face it, they’re really stupid. But this one was, for obvious reasons, right up my alley. Plus, one of my friends got Gary Pettis as the result, and the other got Chet Lemon, and that just made it seem more fun.

As an aside, I’m pretty sure every baseball fan thinks Chet Lemon is pretty cool because of his name. And one of the more amusing moments of my journalism career was interviewing Chet, who now runs an elite baseball travel team. They’re called Chet Lemon’s Juice. No joke.

So yeah, I went ahead and took the freaking quiz, which were mostly questions not about baseball. They were more about movie preferences, style of dress, and political leanings. After answering the questions (I think there were 12), I anxiously awaited the results. Wait for it . . .

Jimmy Rollins.

Yes, that Jimmy Rollins. Me, Mr. Mets Fans. The guy who has Baseball America covers with Kevin Mitchell, Jose Reyes and Tim Teufel adorning his walls. The guy who was watched “1986 Mets: A Year To Remember” roughly 900 times. But according to this fucking Facebook quiz, I’m Jimmy Rollins, the Mets No. 1 nemesis. My world is coming apart.

I mean, I guess there are worse players to be. If I could be a ballplayer, I would want to be a multi-dimensional up-the-middle player. But why couldn’t I be Carlos Beltran? In fact, I said I wanted to be an outfielder on the freaking quiz! If I say outfield, how do I end up as a shortstop? This shit is rigged. Furthermore, how come all three results I am aware of ended up with a black guy as their answer? This wasn’t the “what black baseball player are you quiz?” Or maybe it was. Nope, just checked, it wasn’t. And while I checked, I noticed another Facebook friend had taken the quiz, and he got Steve Jeltz, another black player, as his result. So maybe it really is the “what black ballplayer are you” quiz. This whole thing makes it even more unlikely I will ever do one of these Facebook quizzes again. Even so, I’m still Jimmy Rollins. I would have even preferred Marlon Anderson.

Most Sheffinently

2009-04-06T15:41:00.000-07:00

It’s been a while since I did a post about the Mets, but this Gary Sheffield singing has proven to be quite divisive and I wanted to weigh because while I believe this is a pretty sharp move, I get the sense most people think this a bad idea.

Here’s hoping I can get Mets fans to step back off the proverbial ledge with this list of reasons explaining why this is a good idea.

1) Sheffield is much, much better than Marlon Anderson: Here’s the thing about Anderson, he seems like a great guy. In fact, I’m almost sure he is. The problem is that he is no longer a good baseball player. I'm not sure he ever was. The 35-year-old has a .265/.314/.391 career line, and he hit .210/.255/.275 last year in 151 at-bats. And yes, the Mets were entering the season with the plan being him as their top pinch-hitter. Sheffield hit .225/.326/.400 last year, and just .237 on balls in play. That's incredibly low. And coupled with the fact that he is coming to a weaker league, there is reason to believe he will end up looking a lot better than his 2008 line suggests. If you replace Anderson with Sheffield on the bench, that's an improvement. I recognize that Sheff's defense is brutal, but it's not like Anderson has any defensive value. Last year he played 25 games in left, six at first and one at second. He's a utilityman without any utility. At least Sheff is a threat to drive the ball. Marlon is a threat to drive me absolutely insane if I have to continually watch him ground meekly to first like he did against the Reds in the opener.

2) The Mets lean left, and not in a New York Times sort of way: The Mets currently employ lefthanded hitters at first base (Carlos Delgado), left field (Dan Murphy) and right field (Ryan Church). All of these guys are either mediocre (Delgado), unproven (Murphy) or bad (Church) against lefthanded pitching. Furthermore, they have a number of bench bats (Anderson, Jeremy Reed and Alex Cora) who also hit lefty. Bringing in Sheffield gives them a much more balanced bench, and allows them to use him in tandem with Fernando Tatis to mix and match in the outfield corners and at first. In the National League, this gives them a lot of flexibility.

3) Murphy might not be all that: Mets fans are all fired up about Murphy, but I think we should still be a little skeptical. He clearly has a very patient approach at the plate, but it's unclear if there is more to him than that. There is a good chance he hits roughly .280/.360/.400 for his career, and that's not bad. However, you'd typically like more from your leftfielder than that. I was talking to my friend Joe Sheehan of Baseball Prospectus, and he thinks Murphy is going to be the next Frank Catalanatto. I think that's fair. Now if Murphy can replicate Catalanatto's 2001 season a few times (.330/.391/.490), I know I'd be thrilled. Somehow, I think Mets fans are expecting a lot more than that and could be set up for a big disappointment. If Murphy fails, Sheffield gives them a lottery ticket, and I wouldn't be surprised if he has a dead cat bounce in him. And even if he slightly improves on his 2008 performance, there is a decent chance he puts up a better line than Murphy, Church and Tatis. Because of his defense, you don't want Sheff to play him everyday. But if he turns out to be the best hitter of that group of corner guys (which shouldn't surprise anyone), you need to find a way to get him some ABs.

4) He's basically free: Sheffield is getting paid $400,000. That is nothing by MLB standards. If it turns out he is done, or is being such a pain in the ass that he is no longer worth keeping around, you let him go. The only prospect who he could be blocking is Nick Evans, but I think it's smart for the Mets to let Evans play in Triple-A for a while to see if he can improve against righthanded pitching. He's probably just going to be a platoon player, but they might as well see if he can be anything more before making him strictly a platoon player at the age of 23. It's unlikely, but might as well give him a chance to enhance his value while seeing if Sheff can have one more season in which he slugs above .450. If he does, he's the Mets' best bat off of the bench.

Disclaimer: My belief that this is a good move is predicated on the Mets waiving Anderson when they activate Livan Hernandez to be their fifth starter. If, for some ungodly reason, they keep Anderson and demote Jeremy Reed, this becomes a questionable (and possibly bad) move.

Five Alive

2009-04-01T19:48:00.000-07:00

I was hanging out with a group of friends recently when “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac came on. As I mentioned in a previous post, I love that song. Maybe it was the courage that comes with a few Bud Lights, but I blurted out a pet theory of mine that I had previously been too embarrassed to admit.

“You know,” I said. “You can put Fleetwood Mac’s five best songs up against pretty much any band or artist’s five best songs.”

(Pause for mocking.)

Much to my surprise/relief, no one made fun of this statement. In fact, one of my friends said, “I used to agree with that until I got sick of ‘Rumours.’ ” Anyway, this all sparked a debate about which bands could meet the standard of, “their five best songs could stand up against anyone else’s five best.”

Somewhat surprisingly, the band that was most hotly debated was The Beatles. The argument against them was that even though The Beatles are the most influential band ever, they don’t have five songs that stand out. Those in favor said that they do, it’s just that it’s hard to stand out when you have dozens of great songs. This argument reminded me of those that surround baseball’s Hall of Fame. For some players, like Eddie Murray, their case revolves around career value. For others, like Jim Rice, it’s based on peak value.

What makes The Beatles special is that they have both the necessary career value and peak value. To me, they’re the musical equivalent of Barry Bonds. Both The Beatles and Bonds were instant superstars who had incredible longevity. But let’s face it, neither did their best work until they discovered drugs.

Fleetwood Mac is sort of a tricky case, in that many people think they have career value, but in my mind they are all about peak. You can put “Everywhere,” “Say You Love Me,” “Gypsy,” “Landslide” and “Rhiannon,” up with anyone else’s five best songs, but the rest of their repertoire is kind of crappy. In fact, when Lindsey Buckingham is singing (as opposed to Stevie Nicks or Christine McVie), this is a pretty mediocre band. In thinking about it, I’d say Ichiro is the baseball player most comparable to Fleetwood Mac. When he’s hitting .340 and stealing 40 bases, he’s an elite player. But in most seasons, he’s not nearly as good as people think he is. Like Ichiro, Fleetwood Mac is occassionally brilliant, but not nearly as good as their airplay suggests.

The other band that stirred quite a debate was Guns N’ Roses, though there ended up being a pretty strong consensus that they pass the “five best songs” test. The only question was what their five songs would be. My choices would be “Estranged,” “Mr. Brownstone,” “November Rain,” “Rocket Queen,” and “Yesterdays.” Their baseball equivalent is probably Sandy Koufax. Incredibly dominant for about five years, before falling off the face of the earth. The only difference is that Koufax didn’t attempt a comeback a decade later while trying to pitch with a bucket on his head.

It's All In A Nickname

2009-03-28T10:46:00.000-07:00

I don’t know when it happened, but at some point nicknames began to disappear in sports. It’s really a shame, because who doesn’t love a good nickname? As seriously as some of us tend to take sports from time to time, it’s really all about fun, and I think nicknames help remind us of that. Not only that, it can also create an aura around a great player. For example, Ervin “Magic” Johnson, Dominique “The Human Highlight Reel,” Wilkins, “Neon” Deion Sanders (aka Prime Time). The list goes on and on.

As a sports journalist, I’ve always had a desire to try and bring back nicknames, with the goal of at least trying to come up with at least one good one and make it stick. What makes it tricky is that it’s unclear why some nicknames stick, and others don’t. I remember my first week of college, there was a kid on my floor who got absolutely hammered, and he was stumbling down the hall clutching a bottle of Captain Morgan close to his chest. He sort of had this crazed look in his eyes, and both of his elbows were tightly pinched against his ribs. “Oh my God,” said my friend Sam. “Kyle looks like a T-Rex.” Much to Kyle’s chagrin, that name stuck. He was “T-Rex” from that day forward, and it was simply based on some random throwaway joke the first week of college. Kyle ended up leaving school after our sophomore year and I think I heard he joined the army. I hope it wasn’t because of the name.

So anyway, when I was working at Baseball America, I figured it was the perfect opportunity to bestow some nicknames. Since I was writing mostly about minor leaguers, I thought that if I got a good one, it might catch on before the kid hit the big leagues. And if so, I could help bring nicknames back the forefront. Also, when you’re constantly writing about guys in the low minors who have virtually no chance of making the big leagues, you sometimes have to get a little goofy to keep things fresh.

My first bid for a nickname came with an Indians righthander named Joe Ness, who I started referring to as “The Untouchable” in honor of Elliot Ness. It was a little bit of a stretch, but I was pretty proud of it. The only problem is that Ness hasn’t exactly lived up to the nickname. In fact, he’s been quite touchable, posting a 6.18 ERA last year at Double-A. So that one probably isn’t going to work.

The perfect storm of nickname potential came in 2006 when I was doing a regular notebook for the Midwest League. For those who don’t know, that’s low Class A, and is made up mostly of 19-to-21-year-olds. That season, Reds rightfielder Jay Bruce was going bananas while playing for the Dayton Dragons, and all the coaches and managers in the league were talking him up as a future all-star. Being the Bruce Springsteen fan that I am, I started referring to him as “The Boss” every chance I got. Frankly, I thought this was going to be my legacy as a sportswriter. This feeling was only enhanced when Bruce was called to the big leagues, and this blog posed the question of what his nickname should be. And as you can see in the comments section, the readers agreed that “The Boss” should be it. Yes, this isn’t exactly a quorum, but I’ll take what I can get. (Note: I did post a comment on this blog in support of “The Boss.” And yes, I'm a dork.)

Unfortunately, “The Boss” hasn't taken off quite the way I hoped, but check out this excerpt from a Q&A Bruce did last week with Yahoo! Sports.

DB: Is "Bruce Almighty" sticking as a nickname?

JB: Not with me. Not for me. I would never call myself "Bruce Almighty."

DB: But nicknames aren't necessarily up to us, the nicknamed.

JB: Meh, I don't know. The only thing I've really heard, in Cincinnati the people go, "Bruuuuuuuuuuce."

DB: What about, "The Boss"?

JB: I think that was very short-lived. I think Baseball America had something to do with that, but I don't think it ever stuck.

Oh, we'll see about that. And as it turns out, this isn’t the first time Bruce has been asked about the nickname in a Q&A. When Baseball America named him minor league player of the year in the fall of 2007, which is after I left for another job, former writer Chris Kline asked him about it.

BA: Is there a nickname you’ve been given? I ask because when Matt Meyers covered the Midwest League for us last year, he hung the nickname ‘The Boss,’ on you.

JB: Yeah, believe me, I saw that. And I heard about it and I still hear about it. When are you guys going to stop calling me that?

BA: It’s the ‘Bruce,’ dude. Springsteen. The Boss. Come on.

JB: See, I’m not that familiar with him.

BA: Now you’re showing your age a little--for the first time, really. ‘Born to Run’ for me is Springsteen’s masterpiece, but you probably know him better by ‘Born In The USA’ and I know for a fact you didn’t grow up playing in ballparks and never hearing ‘Glory Days.’

JB: Great song.

BA: See?

JB: I just didn’t understand where that came from. I listen to more rap music and some country than anything else.

Besides the fact we’ve learned that Bruce is a little naïve about music, it’s clear that the nickname at least had some traction in the minor league world. There is still hope for it! The dream is still alive! And I think we can all agree it is a perfect nickname for one of baseball’s best young players. I encourage all of you to do whatever you can to make it stick. Spread the word. Thank you, and good day.

Popping In

2009-03-25T14:05:00.000-07:00

I apologize for the lag between posts here, but there is a good reason for it. The magazine’s baseball preview was put to bed last Friday, and my previous month has been extremely hectic. And because I was spending up to ten hours a day staring at words on a computer screen, I haven’t felt compelled to blog in my spare time. Now that the preview is finished, I hope to be back here sharing my thoughts far more frequently.

As an aside, you should all pick up ESPN The Magazine’s MLB preview. Not only does it have an interesting study of Manny Ramirez’s hitting approach (with a sidebar written by moi), but a great piece about the evolution of defensive analysis that features a sidebar by Nate Silver. Seriously, it's excellent stuff.

As you can tell, I’ve been thinking about baseball a lot lately, even more than usual. But in one of my spare moments, I checked out a YouTube video sent to me by my girlfriend, Margaret, that features a toddler dancing to Beyonce’s “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It).” Besides being left with the thought that this video is a little creepy, it got me thinking about the song, and great pop songs in general.

I’ll admit it, that’s a good fucking song. And I say this despite the fact that it helps reinforce the aspect of American culture that seems to equate love with how much you spend on an engagement ring. That, however, is a rant for another time.

Anyway, “Single Ladies” has all the elements of a great pop song. The most important of these elements being a hook you can sing along to. Every time I hear that song, I’m singing that freaking hook to myself the next six hours. Without fail. I was reading a story in Rolling Stone about The-Dream (nope, not a type), who wrote "Single Ladies", as well as Mary J. Blige's "Just Fine," Mariah Carey's "Touch My Body," and Rihanna's "Umbrella." The story was about how he is trying to follow the Kanye West route by using his career as a producer as a jumping off point for his own singing/rapping career. With the ability to write songs like that, I don't see how he can fail. That's a pretty killer lineup of kick-ass pop songs over the past two years.

This all got me thinking about great pop songs. My musical tastes typically lean towards 1990s hip-hop and garage/Springteen-esque rock, but I love a good pop song. And the following is a random list of pop songs thatt I think might be underappreciated by the masses. These are all famous songs, mind you, but songs that I think are probably better than they are given credit for.

Mark Morrison (Return Of The Mack): This is on my short list of, “if I were a major league baseball player, this would be my walk-up music.” I can’t really understand a word he says other than “return of the mack,” but he’s got such a laid-back delivery, and the groove is so smooth, I just can’t get enough of it. Speaking of baseball pump-up music . . .

Bizarre Inc. (I'm Gonna Get You): This isn't really a pop song, but more of a "early 90s fake techno" song. However, it's freaking catchy. You're lying if you don't enjoy Angie Brown piping in with "why waste your time, you know you're gonna be mine." I had sort of forgotten about this song until Oliver Perez joined the Mets. Every time he warms up before a home game, this song is playing, and every time I've been in the Mets clubhouse while reporting a story, I've always wanted to ask him about this song, but I never have the nerve. My guess is that someone once played it before one of his starts and he pitched really well. And since baseball players are a superstitious bunch, he stuck with it. Either that, or he has a soft spot for corny 90s techno. If so, I like him a lot more.

Billy Ocean (Caribbean Queen): I just noticed something about this song. Listen to the opening few bars, and write before the first verse, you can hear Billy Ocean say, “she 's simply . . . awesome.” This means there had to have been be some sort of conversation in the studio that went something like this:

BILLY: You know what would be great?

PRODUCER: I’m listening . . .

BILLY: If right before the first verse starts, I whisper, “she's simply . . . awesome.” Wouldn’t that be cool?

PRODUCER: You’re right, that would be cool!

(Listen closely, it's about 12 seconds in)

Kelly Clarkson (Since U Been Gone): I know this song is huge, but I actually think it might be under-appreciated. It might be the best pop song of the past 20 years, with the possible exception of . . .

Mariah Carey (We Belong Together): This seems to get less play that a lot of other Mariah hits, but listen to the second verse and try and tell me that this isn’t a transcendent pop song. I’m waiting.

Erasue (A Little Respect): I was reintroduced to the greatness of this song when "Scrubs" built an episode around it. It might the association with one of my favorite TV shows that might me such a fan of this song, but I can now never get tired of this song.

I know what you're thinking. "Mariah? Kelly Clarkson? Erasure? This guy's music taste is half-gay, half-fourteen-year-old girl."

What of it?

DQS: Don't Question Silver

2009-03-05T12:11:00.000-08:00

There was an excellent column on ESPN.com Insider last week written by Nate Silver that discussed A-Rod's chances of breaking the home run record. Subscription is required to read the story—by the way, you should subscribe because it will help me keep my job—but here's the gist: After comparing A-Rod to the 20 most similar players to him in history, Silver concluded that there is a 30 percent chance he will break Barry Bonds' home run record.

This conclusion was met with much skepticism in the comments section. As dozens of Yankees fans wrote some variation of, "who is the nerd with the numbers?A-Rod is clearly going to DESTROY Bonds record. This guys knows nothing. A-Rod RUUUULEZ! YANKEES RULE!!!!! COUNT THE RINGS BITCHES!!!!!!"

OK, that might be a tiny exaggeration, but there was definitely healthy skepticism of the results. As an aside, I've always found it interesting how Yankees fans will hate A-Rod, but then defend him for shit like this. Anyway, many of the people commenting were accusing Silver of personal bias. Now I barely know Silver, but I am pretty sure that his numbers are without bias. That would undermine the point of everything he does. He was simply accounting for the fact that players tend to, you know, decline as they get into their mid-30s, and that they experience random ailments. And whaddya know, looks like A-Rod is going to miss ten weeks (maybe more) because of a hip injury that is apparently a cyst or a torn labrum. This is exactly the kind of thing Silver's study were accounting for.

This doesn't mean that A-Rod won't break the record, but this injury comes at a perfect time as far as illustrating why historical comparisons, like Silver's, are valuable. I distinctly remember a time about 10 years ago when the world was convinced that Ken Griffey would break what was then Hank Aaron's home run record. As we know now, Griffey experienced all sorts of hamstring problems, and while he is still one of the top five home run hitters ever, he is not going to break the record. Take a look at the list of the best home run hitters through their age 30 season, and you'll get a better sense that 30s aren't kind to slugger. (Age 30 season means they were 30 years old on June 30.)

1. Alex Rodriguez 464
2. Ken Griffey Jr. 438
3. Jimmy Foxx 429
4. Mickey Mantle 404
5. Eddie Matthews 399
6. Frank Robinson 373
7. Mel Ott 369
8. Andruw Jones 368
9. Hank Aaron 366
10. Juan Gonzalez 362

What might be most amazing about this list is that Bonds isn't on it. In fact, he is 25th on the list. He is, not surprisingly, first on the list for home runs from age 30 on, with 503. Now before you go blaming steroids, keep in mind that Babe Ruth is second on that list, with 430. Yes, it appears that Bonds was on something, but it's also true that it's possible to be prodigious home run hitter after the age of 30 without the aid of HGH.

But other than Bonds' absence, you'll notice a lot of guys who burned out for a variety of reasons. There's Griffey (bum hamstring), Jones (got fat) and Mantle (lots of booze). Of course there is Aaron, who is an outlier, as is Bonds. And yes, maybe A-Rod will prove to be an outlier as well who hits home runs well into his 40s. But the point is that we shouldn't ignore history, and that lots of people who comment on blogs are idiots. Except, of course, for the nice people who comment on this blog.

Not-So-Top Chef

2009-02-26T08:11:00.000-08:00

I just got to work, and I probably shouldn't be doing this, but it's a slow day, and I figured I could bang out a couple of hundred words on the finale of "Top Chef" because it was so infuriating.

***SPOILER ALERT--If you have yet to watch the finale of "Top Chef" and don't want to know who won, stop reading***

Let me preface this by saying that I am not a big fan of Hosea. Seriously, he was so whiny when it came to Stefan, and I got so tired of him saying, "you know, I really like my food with a lot of flavor. Flavor is my thing." No shit, you're a chef. Flavor is the fucking point.

Hosea started the season strong, but he sort of slipped through the cracks over the final six episodes or so, and I lost respect for him when he, the self-identified fish expert, botched the fish challenge. If I recall correctly, the only reason he wasn't eliminated that day is because it was a team challenge, and his team won (no thanks to him). To me, Hosea is one of those guys who on the surface appears to be a really nice guy. But as the season progressed, it seemed more and more like he was one of those guys who looks like he is really chill, but is actually a self-involved douche. Stefan is clearly a douche, but there is no pretense there. He knows it, and he doesn't care if you know it too. And once it was obvious that Carla (who is clearly more likeable than both of the guys) was not going to win, I found myself rooting for Stefan.

But even though I don't like Hosea, he deserved to win last night based on the format. It's just that the format was stupid.

All I really learned about Hosea last night is that he is really good and randomly selecting knives and pieces of king cake, because it was those two events that led to his victory. Any "Top Chef" connoisseur knows that Richard is an amazing chef, and from what I saw he was a level above any of the chefs from this season. So when Hosea got first choice of sous chefs, it was obvious he was going to pick Richard and gain a huge advantage. And sure enough, the sous chefs played a major role as Casey, Carla's sous chef, cost her any shot at the title, though I realize Carla needs to take the blame for listening to all of Casey's dumb suggestions. Seriously Carla, what were you thinking? You had so much mojo going into the final episode, yet you let this former "Top Chef" runner-up talk you into going out of your comfort zone. As soon as she said, "well, I'm never done this technique before, but OK!" I knew it was going to be a disaster. And it was. If she had been even close, the judges would've given it to her on personality alone.

Anyway, in addition to getting lucky picking knives, Hosea also got first choice of appetizer ingredients after getting the piece of king cake with the plastic baby inside. This really made me angry. Why would you want two major elements of luck playing such a large role in the finale? In every other episode, there is a quickfire challenge that determines who will get the advantage in the main challenge, yet in the finale they did it entire based on luck of the draw. It was silly. They should have said, "Carla, since you had last choice of sous chefs, you get first choice of appetizers. Followed by Stefan, then Hosea." This, at least, would've evened out the randomness of the advantage gained.

So yeah, Hosea took his advantages and ran with them, and he deserved to win based on his performance last night. But frankly, I think Richard had a hell of a lot to do with it. If he had Casey as his sous chef (as opposed to Richard), and alligator as his appetizer (as opposed to red fish), I don't think he would've won. And if you think about it that way, Hosea doesn't seem like such a good choice. I'm just glad I won't have to hear about how Stefan is his nemesis anymore. Maybe he can finally get over his nauseating inferiority complex.

The List

2009-02-24T19:18:00.000-08:00

As some of you may know, I’ve been writing regularly for ESPN Insider. I enjoy it mostly because it’s an outlet for my stat-geeky side. I bring this up for two reasons. 1) You should all subscribe to Insider, if only because you want me to continue to have a job. 2) My next piece is about the Royals, and my editor said something to me today to the effect of, “I bet you just can’t get enough of the Royals.” And I replied, “lay off, that’s like my fifth favorite team.” He then asked,” Fifth favorite team? At which point do you stop keeping track?”

Good question. And it got me thinking about how all 30 teams stack up for me. So, without further adieu, what follows is my own personal power rankings. These are not in order of best to worst, but rather favorite to least favorite. Sometimes these vary from year to year.

1. Mets—This one doesn’t need any explanation. I started paying attention to baseball in 1986 because my father was a Mets fan. They won the World Series, and I’ve been hooked ever since.

2. Twins—One of my best friends in college was a Twins fan, so that gave me my original affinity for them, and I’ve admired their ability to stay competitive with a small budget and a philosophy that runs counter to much of what I believe it takes to build a winning team. In fact, it may be proof that I have no idea what it takes to build a winning baseball team. Oh, and I loved Kent Hrbek when I was a kid for a reason I can’t explain.

3. Pirates—I always think baseball is more interesting when the original franchises are relevant. Plus, I have two friends who work for the team. And I like their uniforms.

4. A’s—Like the Twins, I admire small-market teams that can stay competitive. But unlike Minnesota, I like the way in which the A’s run their organization. Translation: I have a man-crush on Billy Beane.

5. Royals—See, I told you so! Great stadium, and I ranked their top 30 prospects for the 2007 Baseball America Prospect Handbook, so I feel a bond there.

6. Reds—See Pirates (Everything except for the friends who work for them).

7. Rays—Prior to 20005, I didn’t give a crap about them, but they’ve grown on me for two reasons. First, when I was living in North Carolina, I worked down the street from the where the Durham Bulls (their Triple-A affiliate) play, so I became quite familiar with their prospects. Second, they are the reason the Yankees didn’t make the playoffs last year.

8. Indians—This is mostly because of “Major League,” and also because I had an Indians cap from about 1995-1999 that I loved.

9. Mariners—Griffey was a lot of fun back in the day.

10. Diamondbacks—Ended the Yankees run of championships in 2001. Plus, Chris Young is the friendliest player I’ve ever interviewed.

11. Red Sox—Getting kind of sick of them, but the way they humiliated the Yankees in 2004 will never be forgotten. Yes, I realize a lot of these rankings are motivated by anti-Yankees sentiment. But when the Mets are out of it (which is what happens most Octobers), rooting against the Yankees is all I have. Sigh.

12. Tigers—Curtis Granderson is one of my favorite players. Possibly my favorite. That’ll be another list down the road.

13. Giants—My father was a Giants fan until they left New York, and he still has a soft spot for them. And to some extent, I do too. Plus, there was a short period in the late 1980s when Will Clark was my favorite player.

14. Brewers—I like beer.

15. Padres—Of all the stadiums I have ever been to, theirs is my favorite.

16. Rockies—After the Mets were humiliated by the Phillies in 2007, they immediately swept Philly. It took the edge off the pain just a little bit.

17. Nationals—The one team in their division the Mets can consistently beat.

18. Blue Jays—I used to think Kelly Gruber was cool. And Rance Mullniks is possibly the greatest name in baseball history.

19. Rangers—I’m pretty neutral on these guys, but they had to go somewhere.

20. White Sox—Ditto.

21. Orioles—Ditto.

22. Astros—Ditto, but they get docked because Mike Scott scuffed the ball in the 1986 NLCS.

23. Dodgers—As Fletch said, “I hate Tommy Lasorda.”

24. Cubs—A lot of their fans are whiny. We get it, it’s been 100 years.

25. Angels—Not a fan of the way their style of play because they stubbornly refuse to take pitches. Plus, the Rally Monkey is a travesty.

26. Marlins—Mets rival, always kind of obnoxious.

27. Cardinals—I don’t mean to say this in some sort of Patrick Ewing sort of way, but the Mets were the better team in 2006. Yes, I realize that the nature of baseball means that the inferior team will often win a seven-game series, but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating.

28. Braves—They tormented all Mets fan from 1998-2005.

29. Phillies—The new Braves.

30. Yankees—I realize this is irrational. My least-favorite team should be the Phillies or Braves, both direct rivals of my favorite team, but I just can’t help it. I simply hate the Yankees. And when the Braves played the Yankees in the World Series, I rooted for Atlanta. And if the Phillies faced the Yankees, I’d probably root for Philly.

A lot of people in the sports media will tell you that members of the sports media are not supposed to have favorites because it prevents objectivity, and I've always thought this was dumb. Being a passionate fan is what got me into this business in the first place. The day I stop being a fan is the day I stop enjoying my job.

Won't You Be My Neighbor

2009-02-22T18:11:00.001-08:00

Normally I could not give a crap about celebrity gossip. If Lindsey Lohan passes out drunk at Hillary Duff's house because of one too many Bartles & James, I really couldn't care less. However, once in a while, there is a piece of celebrity news that is so huge, and hits so close to home, that I can't help but get excited about it. Just take a look at this excerpt from Usmagazine.com that my sister sent to me:

"Is Angelina Jolie looking for an apartment in NYC?

A few weeks after signing the lease on a $60 million Long Island mansion, the actress, 33, was spotted checking out a nice building in Manhattan's uptown Washington Heights neighborhood Tuesday afternoon."

To channel my inner Dick Vitale, "Are you serious??!?!!?!?!?!" In case you didn't know, I grew up in Washington Heights, and the thought of arguably the world's most famous couple buying a place there is somewhat incomprehensible. To be clear, it's not as if I lived in one of the tougher areas of the Heights. In fact, I probably lived in the least-tough section of the neighborhood, complete with security guards and rose gardens. That being said, I can still relate with the entire area, as I had to venture out of my little Ivory Tower to run errands and get to the subway. As recently as 15 years ago, it was a big deal when the Heights finally got a restaurant that didn't have plastic utensils. The next thing I knew, gay men decided it was going to be an annex of Chelsea, and suddenly the Heights had cache.

The transformation of Washington Heights is no different than the "gentrification" of other neighborhoods around New York City over the past decade, but I am not sure I will really ever get over it. For so many years, no one knew where it was, or if they did, they thought it was the Bronx. To this day, when Tim McCarver talks about Manny Ramirez, he says something to the effect of, "Ramirez, who's from the Washington Heights section of the Bronx." Yes, he's from Washington Heights, but it's not the Bronx. Represent.

The Heights has changed so much over the years, that there are now Starbucks, organic foods stores and "gift stores." You know, the places where the sell shit no one would ever actually want. And now, two of the most famous people in the world are looking for a place up there. They must have really liked "In The Heights."

It's hard to imagine Brad and Angie actually moving in, but it would probably good for property values. But then again, after seeing them at the Oscars last night, I was again reminded of how weird those two are. They might make for weird neighbors. But probably no weirder than the old Russian dude that used to stand in the middle of Bennett Park and scream "Gyna" at the top of his lungs.

No Charge

2009-02-17T15:47:00.000-08:00

There are few certainties in life. But for me, one of the few I can count on is this: When a non-sports oriented mainstream publication runs a major sports-related story, it will get e-mailed to me by at least four different people. I'm not complaining about this phenomenon, it's just a fact. People who know me know that I love sports, and therefore they think I will enjoy the story, or at least like to know what kinds of stories non-sports publications believe are worthy of publishing. And this goes both ways. I have a friend who loves, LOVES, Tom Waits, so if I see a story about Waits (or one that references him in any meaningful way), I will always send it to him in an e-mail that begins, "I'm sure I'm like the 20th person to send this to you, but . . ."

This is a long way of saying that when I heard Michael Lewis had a story about Shane Battier and the use of sabermetrics in basketball in The New York Times Magazine, I knew that a bunch of people would send it to me. And they did. Say what you want about Lewis, and some of the embellishments in "Moneyball," but he's an excellent storyteller. And as someone who has been really interested in the growing use of sabermetrics in basketball, I loved the story. Not only did I learn something about the Rockets' progressive methods, but Battier came off as affable, intelligent and self-aware. The one downside of the story is that it reminded me of why I used to hate Battier—drawing charges.

As someone who worshipped the Knicks of the early 1990s, it might seem a little hypocritical to knock a guy for his ability to draw charges. Heck, John Starks, Derek Harper and Charles Oakley were the Three Tenors of drawing charges. They made it in an art. And as the Knicks mastered the art of drawing charges at the pro level, the Duke Blue Devils were at the forefront of the movement in the college game, with Battier leading the way. I dislike Duke basketball (except for Grant Hill) for a variety of reasons, and their flopping is right up there at the top of the list.

I was discussing this phenomenon with my roommate, and he brought up a good point. "Has Stuff White People Like done a piece on drawing charges?" he asked. Seriously, is there anything white/Duke basketball players like more than drawing charges? I'm guessing it has something to do with making up for physical limitations, because I remember once drawing a charge in a middle school basketball game, and it was orgasmic. However, since I was playing against a bunch of other pudgy, Jewish kids, I'm not exactly sure if I was making up for any biological shortcomings.

The greater point of this whole thing is that charges are dumb, and I didn't come to this realization until long after Oakley had retired. By simply in getting in someone else's way, you can draw a foul, but shouldn't we encourage defenders to be making a play on the ball? Instead, we've created this culture where defenders try to calculate when they can step into someone else's path so as to draw a charge. Then they flop backwards like they've been shot to try and get the whistle, and they usually do. Then said player is embraced by their coach and verbally fellated by the TV announcers because of "good fundamentals." You know what is actually good fundamentals? Defending (and possibility blocking) the shot or pass.

It's funny, I've heard a lot of American criticize soccer because of all the diving to draw fouls, but that's exactly what every single basketball player is doing when they try to draw a charge. The only time a charge should be called is if the player with the ball is out of control. That's it. Otherwise, the onus should be on the defender to make a play on the ball.

Jammin' On The One

2009-02-08T14:57:00.000-08:00

Upon stumbling into the Izod Center (formerly Brendan Byrne Arena) for Monster Jam, I wasn't exactly sure what I was getting into. Sure, I had grown up on commercials telling me that on "Sunday, Sunday, Sunday" there would be "mud, sweat and gears" at some local arena, but I had never heeded those words. And though I knew there would be monster trucks driving over beat-up old cars, I didn't really understand the machinations of a monster truck rally. In order to find some answers (and get some beer), my companions and I decided to chat up a beer vendor.

"Well, it's pretty much like the WWE in that it's all fixed," he said. "And I'll tell you this much, you won't find any of these guys on Jeopardy."

If that's not a great sales pitch, than I don't know what is.

If you've never been to a monster truck rally, here's a brief rundown. There are four mediums, wheelies, sprint, doughnuts and freestlye.

The wheelie competition is judged, and it seems as though you are rewarded for getting as close as possible to a 90-degree angle. The three judges were sitting about three rows behind us, and they each had 10 pieces of paper numbered 1-10. When each contestant had performed, they held up their score. It was pretty sophisticated.

The sprint was pretty objective. Two cars lined up alongside one another and raced across rows of adjacent cars to a finish line about 25 yards away. Like the wheelie competition, it was over in about four seconds.

Doughnuts were probably the most amusing event, as each truck tried to generate enough speed to spin around in circles as quickly and tightly as possible. The one downfall of this event was that it was loud. In fact, the whole thing is pretty fucking loud. I wasn't prepared for it, but when I noticed that the family sitting next to us were all wearing those noise-canceling headphones you see people wearing at gun ranges, I knew we were in trouble. I really can't say enough about how loud a monster truck rally is, and the doughnuts are the loudest part. Like the wheelies, this is event judged.

The last event is the freestyle, which is simply 60 seconds for each driver to show off all his best tricks. In reality, it's just a repeat of what we've just seen in the previous three events. I got the feeling that the executives of the Monster Truck Association of America (I made that name up) decided that people needed a little more for their money, so they created the freestyle. It seemed unnecessary, but Gravedigger, which I gather is the Hulk Hogan of monster trucks, put on quite a show in the freestyle. So I guess that made it worthwhile.

I've mentioned this experience to a few people over the past week, and the most common question seems to be, "what was the demographic at the show?" It appeared to be mostly families with young sons, and the headphone family next to us appeared to be experts. Whenever I needed a question answered about the "sport," their eight-year-old son was more than happy to fill me in. That was nice. There was also a pair of girls who appeared to be in their early 20s sitting in front of us. My friends and I asked them if they were regulars at monster truck rallies, and one of them said, "not really. I'm a big WWE fan, and she loves NASCAR. So we figured we would check this out." These are definitely not the kind of girls I met at a small private college in Maine.

I wouldn't say that "attend a Monster Truck rally" was on my bucket list, but it certainly satisfied a lifelong curiosity of what one would be like. Not sure how much fun it would be sober, but it definitely passed the "fun while drunk" test. But then again, what doesn't?

More Bruce!

2009-01-29T20:07:00.000-08:00

It's come to my attention that there is a faction of Bruce fans who are unhappy about him playing halftime at the Super Bowl. I learned this from a recent Joe Posnanski column on the subject, and it seems as though a number of die-hard fans think that because he has been turning down the opportunity to play the Super Bowl halftime show for years, his agreeing to do it this year means he is somehow "selling out." Now, I don't know if the people discussed in Posnanski's column actually represent a large number of Bruce fans, but I don't have the energy to go scouring message boards and Bruce blogs, so I'll just assume there is a relatively sizable number of Springsteen fans who feel this way. If so, that's just silly.

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being "I'll stupidly sing along to Glory Days when it gets thrown on the jukebox," and 10 being, "I have a copy of an experimental ska album done by Clarence Clemons and Nils Lofgren," I'd say my Bruce fandom rates at about a 7. I love him, and of course the E Street Band, but I am not fanatical about him. I went through a two-year period around the turn of the century when I was obsessed with his three-disc live album, and I have now seen him in concert four times. In fact, on more than one occassion I've told people that seeing him with my three of my closest friends in a luxury box box (with an open bar) at Madison Square Garden in 2001 was the most fun I've ever had. And I meant it.

That being said, I am not as obsessed as many others are. And as a result, I may not have the same kind of connection deep in my soul where his decision to play the Super Bowl could somehow affect me. But at this point in his career, it's hard to imagine there is any way Bruce could realistically "sell out." The guy has been packing stadiums (not arenas, stadiums) for decades. He's sold millions of records and been worshipped by pretty much everyone everywhere.

Furthermore, the whole concept of selling out is kind of stupid to begin with. When musicians start making music, they're dream is to get as big as someone like Springsteen. That's the goal, to fill venues and sell countless records. The whole thing reminds of a quote about selling out that I believe has been credited to James Hetfield of Metallica. "Yeah we sold out. Every night, every show, every building." At this point, the only way I think Bruce could actually sell out is if he and the E Street band did a U.S. tour in support of Sarah Palin's 2012 presidential campaign. If that happens, then yeah, he sold out.

I realize it's common for fans who have been with an artist from the beginning to feel a sense of detachment when they hit it big. And when it happens, they will accuse the band of "selling out." But usually what happens in those cases is that the band then develops a whole new mainstream following and loses its original die-hards in the process, kind of like Blues Traveler. But even if there were Bruce fans who gave up on him when he hit it big, they are long gone. So if you're still a Bruce fan, you've lived through "Dancing in the Dark," you've lived through "Human Touch." For Godsakes, you've lived through that remix of "The Secret Garden" that played all over the radio that included audio clips from "Jerry Maguire." If you stayed with Bruce after that, how the hell could you think he is selling out now?

So what if Bruce has been turning down the Super Bowl for 20 years and suddenly decided he wants to do it. At this point, the guy doesn't have a lot left that he hasn't accomplished musically. Playing halftime of the Super Bowl is one more thing to check off the old list. And some might say he's only doing this because he wants to pimp his new record. So what? The guy just made a new album he's proud of, and he wants people to listen to it. Why not promote to the entire fucking world?

There's a chance that Posnanski is wrong, and Bruce fans aren't actually upset about this. If so, then I guess this whole post can serve as my feelings about the concept of "selling out."

I Love Rock And Roll

2009-01-27T20:06:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about Bruce Springsteen a lot recently. The most obvious reason for this being that he, along with the E Street Band, is playing at halftime of the Super Bowl. While I don't normally give a rat's ass about who does the halftime show, Bruce is about as good as it gets. Therefore, it's a good bet that this year's halftime will be entertaining, as opposed to unbearable. I still miss the days when shows like "In Living Color" and "Beavis and Butthead" ran original episodes during halftime of the Super Bowl, but even that probably would've lost out to Bruce for me. In case you were wondering, "In Living Color's" Super Bowl content hasn't aged all that well, though I did chuckle at their Bob Griese joke.

The other reason I've been thinking about Bruce is because of a band I've recently discovered called The Gaslight Anthem. Like dozens (maybe thousands) of bands before them, TGA's sound is regularly compared to Bruce's. And really, these guys are like him, and it's not just because they are from New Jersey. As guitarist Alex Rosamilia says of his band, "It sounds like Bruce Springsteen singing for a Cure cover band, with a tinge more aggression." If that description doesn't intrigue you, well then I don't think I like your taste in music.

I came across TGA when I noticed they were playing at Webster Hall with Heartless Bastards, another recent fave. I figured that if they were playing with Heartless Bastards, they must be pretty good. So I read a couple of reviews, and their most recent album, The '59 Sound, was very well-received. And I obviously took notice when I saw a number of reviews compare them to the Boss. I then checked them out on MySpace, and bought tickets to the show after listening to this song.

***On an unrelated noted, I just remembered that Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers played the halftime of the Super Bowl last year. This is relevant because of how Heartless Bastards got their name. A couple of the members of the band were playing one of those video trivia games at a bar, and the question was, "what is the name of Tom Petty's band?" And one of the options for multiple choice was "Heartless Bastards." That means that the last two bands I've fallen in love with both have direct ties to the two most recent Super Bowl halftime performers. Coincidence? I think so.

Part of what I enjoy about TGA is that they're completely unabashed about their Bruce influence. In fact, I've noticed references to Bruce lyrics in at least two of their songs.While noticing things like that are kind of cool as a Springsteen fan, that's not why I've been obsessed with them for a week. When it all comes down to it, what makes them stand out is that they just rock. They're sound is not really original, but it doesn't matter. As far as I'm concerned, the true sign of a great rock band is one that make you want to get into a power stance and air-guitar along with them. And it's not necessarily because the guitar playing is transcendent on its own, but because the band has such a feel for the music they are trying to make. That's TGA.

Oh, and I love their attitude. The quote I gave above from Rosamilia comes from some random Q&A I found on a music blog. And I particularly enjoyed this exchange:

Q: You have also been compared to The Killers, does this make you feel any different to the Springsteen comments?
A: I couldn’t care less about being compared to the Killers. I’ve never really gotten into them, and I don’t see the comparison at all. Sorry.

Could this be the start of a Killers-TGA feud? I hope so.

And while we are still sort of on the subject of Bruce, let me just put out my prediction for the four songs he will play on Sunday. My guess is he opens with The Rising, followed by The Wrestler. Then he'll go into Glory Days and finish it all off with Born To Run. Just in case you cared . . .

Tainted Song

2009-01-21T15:10:00.000-08:00

So I realize that I've been a little erratic with the posts of late, but that's not for lack of enthusiasm. I've actually been busy. I was out of town skiing for the long weekend, out enjoying a post-President Bush cocktail on Tuesday, and at my first Knicks game in about four years on Wednesday. Don't worry, I got free tix. I didn't pay to watch that "rebuilding" project, aka "pray for LeBron."

As I said, I was out of town over the weekend, and as I was driving back from Vermont, "Tainted Love" came on. I think we can all agree it's a great song, and it got me thinking about that amazing Levi's commercial from the 1990s that featured a guy in ER, and how all the sounds of the ER came together to form the melody to that song. And then everyone notices it, and they all start singing. Fortunately, and not surprisingly, it is on YouTube, and it's an even better commercial than I remember.

Pure genius. And since it's directed by Spike Jonze, it's not surprising.

Anyway, this commercial got me thinking about a few things. First off, wide-leg jeans. Not to get all nostalgic on you, but remember those? I sure as hell do, as that was in style when I was in high school. The Levi's wide legs were about as wide as I would go, but then there were the JNCO jeans, which were particularly popular among Asians, ravers, and Asian ravers. I was never ballsy enough to consider rocking those absurd dungarees, but I always admired those that did because even though I was not willing to make that kind of fashion statement, I respected those who would. Because those jeans were cool during my formative years, it makes me look down upon the now fashionable skinny jeans. As far as I'm concerned, they're dumb. Long live JNCOs! (I bet you didn't think you would ever see that written.)

As is my custom, seeing that Levi's commercial got me doing a little research on "Tainted Love," and I discovered something that blew my mind. It's a cover. This is normally the trivial type of shit I am able to wow my friends with, so I was blown away. It was written by a guy named Ed Cobbs, and performed by a British soul singer named Gloria Jones. Check it out, it's pretty awesome.

Additionally, I learned that Jones had a son with Marc Bolan of T. Rex (you know, "get it on, bang the gong, get it on"), and she even sang back-up for the band. In fact, when Bolan died in a car crash, she was driving the car. How did I not know this?

The thing is, I knew that the extended version of "Tainted Love" included a cover of "Where Did Our Love Go?" by The Supremes, which had been the B-side, and I always thought that it was a nice touch. If you don't know what I'm talking about, compare the following two videos (and yes, I'm really getting a kick out of embedding videos today).

Fast forward to about 4:50 to get to The Supremes part. According to Wikipedia, "At the peak of the song's popularity, many radio stations opted to play the full medley, utilizing their own edits to shorten the 9-minute track."

Now that I know that "Tainted Love" is just a conglomerate of two covers, it makes me reconsider my feelings for it. I mean, at least it's a different take on "Tainted Love," but it's barely a new take on "Where Did Our Love Go?" I typically hate when artists get famous on a cover, but Soft Cell did it with two disguised as one. However, I just can't bring myself to hate their version of "Tainted Love." It's just too damn good.

Also, as I learned from further internet research, an artist releasing a cover version as a single would usually write the song that appears on the B-side, as this would still entitle the artist to some songwriting royalties stemming from sales of that single. However, since Soft Cell wrote neither "Tainted Love" nor "Where Did Our Love Go?" (the B-side), they lost the opportunity to make any songwriting royalties stemming from one of the most popular songs of the '80s. Suckas.

If nothing else, this discovery explains why Soft Cell never had any other hits. They didn't know how to write any songs.

Give Me Fever, Inauguration Fever!

2009-01-14T20:08:00.000-08:00

The more I think about it, the more Barack Obama is starting to remind me of Jimmy Clausen. I know it might seem a bit odd to compare the President-elect to Notre Dame's quarterback, but let me take you back to 2006.

That April, Clausen was the No. 1 quarterback recruit in the country when he was scheduled to announce his commitment to Notre Dame at the College Football Hall of Fame. Then a junior in high school, Clausen showed up to the announcement in a stretch Hummer limo with an entourage in tow. It seemed a bit over the top at the time, but Fighting Irish fans didn't care. In fact, they were fired up. This guy was going to save Notre Dame football. But to this point, he hasn't.

As we get ready for Obama's inauguration next Tuesday, I can't help but see some parallels. It seems like everyone I know (and yes, I realize I live in a Democrat-centric world) has got inauguration fever. If they're not going down to DC next week, they know someone who is, or wish they were. Frankly, I just don't get it.

I'm as excited and hopeful about Obama's presidency as most rational lefties, and I realize inaugurating our first black president is a big deal, but this Obama worship has got to stop. So far, all he has really proven is that he is an amazing orator, fundraiser, and campaigner. Some of these things are important traits of a good President, but to this point, Obama hasn't done anything to prove he is a good president. And last time I checked, the country is in the shitter. Everything about inauguration sounds a little excessive, and I think it's an odd time to be having such an extravagant (not to mention costly) celebration. People seem to think it is going to be some sort of can't-miss historical event, but I can't say I have ever heard anyone talk about any past inaugurations as anything that memorable. So why is this going to be different?

I've expressed these thoughts to some friends, and they mostly say, "don't be such a downer, it's just a party." Frankly, I think we've done enough celebrating of Obama. I'm over it. I thought that is what election night was for, when tens of thousands of people showed up to see him speak in Chicago. When people took to the streets of New York City to yell and scream and hug strangers. It was an amazing night, and Obama did an excellent job of managing expectations during his address that night. The country seems to think we need one more party, but it seems to me like the past two years have essentially been one giant party for Obama, capped off by a rager on November 4.

It's probably unrealistic to expect Obama's minions not to turn this inauguration into a frenzy, so I guess there was no way for him and his staff to stop it. But let's stop pretending he is some sort of mythical savior, because he's not. I can only hope that Obama downplays the hysteria during his address, and then we can finally find out if he is actually going to turn things around. I'm optimistic, but so were Notre Dame fans about Clausen.

Hall Of Dumb

2009-01-11T08:37:00.000-08:00

If you're someone like me who devours any number of nerdy baseball blogs and websites, you know that Monday is a relatively big day in baseball history. If you don't know, well then let me fill you in.

On Monday the Hall of Fame will announce its 2009 class, which will definitely include Rickey Henderson, likely include Jim Rice, and possibly include Bert Blyleven. Every blogger from Perez Hilton to Markos Moulitas has given their fictional ballot for the Hall of Fame, so I won't go into too much detail about my choices (Henderson, Blyleven, Raines, Tramell, reasons below) here. Instead, I want to address the ongoing case for Jim Rice, and one element I find particularly absurd about it.

Let me just get it out the way that Jim Rice is a horrendous choice for the Hall of Fame. Many insightful and clever writers have ripped his case to shreds elsewhere, but the bottom line is his candidacy is completely driven by Boston writers. What's odd is that when a candidate sees such a boost of support in the later years of his eligibility for the Hall, it's usually because advanced metrics come out to show that the player is more qualified than originally thought. However, that isn't the case with Rice. In fact, not only do advanced metrics say Rice is underqualified, but basic metrics do too! 382 home runs, and his case for the Hall of Fame is entirely predicated on power!

Anyway, the objective case is marginal, and Rice's supporters seem to know this. And that's why his case in recent years has been based entirely around this subjective statement: "He was the most feared hitter of his time." If you're referring to his three-year peak from 1977-79, than this is probably true. But three years does not make a Hall of Fame career.

"Most feared" is a phrase that gets thrown around a lot in baseball. It's not only highly subjective, but also vaguely racist. And the reason I say this is because I only see it attached to surly black players. Seriously, the only guys I can think of who ever got the "most feared" title were Barry Bonds, Gary Sheffield, Jim Rice and Albert Belle. Manny Ramirez has probably been called the "most feared" as well, but it's not like he's white. Dale Murphy would never get the title of "most feared," but he actually has a better Hall of Fame case than Rice, seeing that he actually played an important defensive position, and played it well. But he was a wimpy-looking white dude, and despite his magical light saber bat seen in the photo to the right, he doesn't get this arbitrary subjective statement thrown out there boost to his Hall of Fame chances. On the flip side, it's probably the only time where being seen as an "angry black man" has helped someone get included in an elite institution. So maybe this is progress!

Speaking of angry black men, on behalf of my good friend Daniel Sas, the biggest Albert Belle fan on the planet, let's revisit him for a second. I know it was a completely different run-scoring environment, but Belle hit 381 homers in 6,673 plate appearances. Rice hit one more home run, in 9,058 plate appearances. For those who don't have a calculator, that's 2,385 more PAs. And lest you think Belle was completely a product of his era, keep in mind that his career adjusted OPS is 143, and Rice's is 128. The bottom line is that if Rice is a Hall of Famer, than Belle most certainly is too, but Belle fell off the ballot last year in just his second year of eligibility because he got less than five percent of the vote. Considering Rice and Belle were both jerks to the press, it's amazing Belle didn't gotten more support. Are baseball writers really this stupid? You know what, don't answer that question. But seriously, how can you treat two players, with essentially the same case, so differently? I'm not even saying I think Belle is a Hall of Famer because I'm not sure. But if you think Rice is deserving, than you basicallly have to think Belle is as well. Too bad for Belle won't be on the ballot long enough for the "most feared" juices to seep in.

The most humorous part of the entire thing is that we actually have proof that Rice wasn't even that feared. How do we know? Intentional walks. Rice finished in the top 10 in intentional passes just three times in his career. And he was given a free pass just 77 times in his career. Now I realize that could be a product of who was hitting behind him, but if he were really so feared, wouldn't he have gotten more intentional walks than Von Hayes (82), Ed Kranepool (89), Garret Anderson (101) or Wally Joyner (108)? When B.J. freakin' Surhoff (81) has more intentional walks than you, I'm sorry, that just absolutely kills your "most feared" case in my mind. For the record, Belle had 91 intentional walks. But remember that was in more than 2,300 fewer plate appearances.

So yeah, it's pretty clear Jim Rice is a fraud, at least when it comes to the Hall of Fame. But it looks like there is nothing informed baseball nerds can do to stop it. Sigh.

And for those who care about who I think should go in . . .

Rickey Henderson--D'uh.

Tim Raines--The case against him is essentially that he's not Rickey Henderson. That's like saying Willie McCovey should not have gotten in because he's not as good as Lou Gehrig. If Raines spent his career in Boston, as opposed to Rice, he'd definitely be getting in on Monday. I know he doesn't seem obvious at first glance, but he reached base safely more times than Tony Gwynn. There is even a website devoted to his candidacy. So if you don't believe me, believe these guys.

Bert Blyleven--Another not-so obvious candidate, but the reason he hasn't gotten more support is because he doesn't have 300 wins. Wins are obviously not the best metric by which to rate pitchers, and he is fifth all-time in strikeouts, and ninth in shutouts. Those are two pretty basic (and strong) indicators of dominance. So yeah, he should probably be in.

Alan Trammell--Similar to what I said about Rice v. Belle above, if you believe Ozzie Smith is a Hall of Famer, and Smith got in on the first ballot with 91.7% of the vote, than Trammell is too. Based on runs created, Trammell had 100 more than Smith in two fewer seasons. As good as Smith was with the glove, it's hard to believe he was more than 100 runs better than Trammell with the leather because Trammell was also very well-regarded on defense. Unfortunately, since we don't have access to advanced defensive metrics for these older guys, we have to go based on reputation. I tend to think we overrate basic offensive skills and tend to underrate the ability to play an up-the-middle position, and play it well. When you think really hard about it, isn't a guy like Trammell much harder to find than a guy like Rice? One is an above-average hitter who plays a premium position adeptly, and the other is a slowpoke slugger who isn't even that great of a power hitter and led the league in double plays grounded into four times.

Maybe this all just a long of way of poking even more holes through the swiss chese case of Jim Rice, and maybe Trammell isn't deserving either. But if Rice is, then a whole lot people from his era are too. Sadly, it's Rice who will be going in. I guess we can consider it a victory for race relations.

Not As Awful As I Feared

2009-01-06T19:43:00.001-08:00

I've had January 6 marked on my calendar for about a month, and no, it's not because today is Marlon Anderson's birthday. It's because today is the day that brought upon the return of "90210" and "Scrubs." And while I realize my affinity for the former might make me lame, I've already made it clear in this blog that I enjoy the show, so there is no use getting defensive about it now.

I won't go too much into "90210", other than to say that it was more of the same. In other words, I loved it. Instead, I'll focus on "Scrubs," which moved from NBC to ABC after a year-and-a-half hiatus. I'm not exactly sure if it was that long, but they made reference to it during the first of two episodes, so I'll go with that.

I wasn't actually a fan of "Scrubs" from the beginning, but after my sister insisted I would love it for about five years, and I finally started watching it when re-runs began appearing on Comedy Central a couple of years ago. I was living in North Carolina at the time, and since I was regularly bored while I was there and Comedy Central was showing "Scrubs" roughly 12 times a day, I was able to catch up with it pretty quickly. My sister was right, I thought it was hysterical, and it quickly became my favorite show since "Seinfeld" (though "90210" might be giving it some competition).

Like most comedies, "Scrubs" started to lose it's proverbial fastball during its most recent seasons, and I wasn't really expecting much from the new episodes. In fact, I expected them to suck. However, after devoting so many hours to this damn show, I figured I would watch the last few episodes to see how it turns out. Besides, it's not like I have anything that much better to do on a typical Tuesday. (Note: I read that this might not be "Scrubs" final season, but it is Zach Braff's final season. Therefore, for all intents and purposes, it's the final season. I'm not like a huge Zach Braff fan or anything, but he is the star.)

Because my expectations were so low, I have to say that tonight's two episodes weren't that bad. I was fully prepared to do a full-on rant about how much it sucked, but it was surprisingly not terrible. I even laughed a few times. But all in all, I wasn't pleased. First of all, they fired the janitor. I never found him that funny as compared to other characters, but this is an ensemble cast, and he was a big part of the show. Second, they had Dr. Kelso retire, and Kelso was probably the funniest character on the show. If he wasn't the funniest, it was his son Harrison who was the funniest, even though we never see Harrison. I'd go so far as to say that Harrison is the funniest imaginary character in TV history, with only Bob Sacamano ("Seinfeld"), Maris ("Frasier") and The Gooch ("Diff'rent Strokes") as competition.

***Quick triva (answer at the bottom): Besides having an awesome imaginary character, what else does "Scrubs" have in common with "Diff'rent Strokes?"

Yes, Dr. Kelso made a cameo in the first episode, but he has been replaced by Courtney Fucking Cox. I realize the producers probably thought she would bring ratings, but her character is the a combination of the worst parts of Monica Geller and Kelso. Hey "Scrubs" writers, we get it, medicine can be a business. Stop hitting us over the head with that for the eighth straight season. Also, according to a New York Times article, Disney (parent company of ABC) asked that The Todd no longer wear his signature "banana hammock" because they thought it was distasteful. Disney signs my checks, so I won't go off on this too much, but I'd like to. I guess it was moot anyway because The Todd didn't make an appearance for some unknown reason. OK, so maybe this is turning into a rant.

Like I said, I'll probably keep watching just to see how they decide to end, even though it's pretty clear that J.D. and Eliot will end up together somehow. In that way, it's fitting that Cox (Courtney, not Dr.) is involved, because the end will be just like "Friends." The "will they or won't they" plot line will be resolved years after the show stopped being funny. But even if the final season sucks, it wouldn't be the first time that happened. "Scrubs" has given me many laughs while asking for nothing in return, and for that I will be thankful.

***Trivia answer: Both "Scrubs" and "Diff'rent Strokes" switched networks. "Diff'rent Strokes" switched from NBC to ABC in 1985. Stupid ABC, always poaching other networks' shows. I mean, "I love ABC, their parent company signs my checks!"

End Of An Era

2009-01-04T17:49:00.001-08:00

Ever since graduating, my college roommate has a term he uses for when we get drunk like we used to in college. He calls it “college drunk.” Original, right?

Needless to say, I got “college drunk” on New Year’s Eve. I’m not really sure I’m too old for that kind of drinking, but I’m probably getting there. That being said, I was conscious enough early in the evening to make what I believe to be is a semi-interesting observation.

On my walk from the Subway to my apartment, I noticed someone wearing those 2009 sunglasses. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, take a look at the photo to the below to get an idea of it. As you’ll remember, these became very popular at the turn of the millennium, and there has been a version of them every year since. This was in Brooklyn at about 4:30 pm when I saw this guy, and while I was marveling at how much of a tool he must be, it occurred to me that this souvenir only works when the middle two numbers of the year are zero. But since this is 2009, we have to what Boys II Men referred to as the end of the road, and we will probably never see these glasses again. Sure they could go ahead and make the glasses again next year since 2010 features two zeroes, but they would be off center and probably look stupider than already do.

I have a lot of questions about these glasses. Who came up with them? How many have they sold over the years? Do people wear them outside of Times Square (I sure as shit hoe so)? What do they do with the excess inventory? Who are the idiots that wear them?

But as dumb as people look while wearing these glasses, I’m amazed they’ve stayed popular for a decade and I have to give credit to whoever came up with them. There is no way for me to be positive, but I have to think that since they probably cost about eight cents to manufacture, these glasses were a profitable venture. But after 10 years of glory, it looks like they’ll need to find their next great chachka invention. And I’m glad I’ll probably never have to see them again.

8 For '08

2008-12-31T12:11:00.000-08:00

You probably don't read Brooklyn Heights Blog. I don't usually, but because my good friend Daniel Squadron was running for State Senate, I set up a Google Alert for his name to see what was being written about him in the press/blogs. And because Brooklyn Heights Blog wrote about his election extensively, I've become quite familiar with it.

I got another Google Alert that linked me to BHB today because they released "The BHB Ten," which is supposed to be the most influential and important Brooklyn Heights' residents of the past year, and I got a kick out of seeing Daniel as No. 1. Not so much because that blog is super-relevant or anything, but because he ranked one spot ahead of Paul Giamatti, who earned the No. 2 spot based on his portrayal of John Adams the HBO mini-series about our second president.

Since I didn't have a great idea for an end-of-the-year post, I decided to steal BHB's idea and do my 8 for '08. Unlike BHB, I am not limiting my list to my neighborhood. If I did, it would definitely include (in no particular order), my roommates, my ping-pong table, Bergen Bagel, the free popcorn at Fourth Avenue Pub, the Prospect Park loop, my roof, and Los Pollitos' $3.95 half-chicken.

Without further adieu (you're getting bullet points again, deal with it) . . .

8. The Tampa Bay Rays: Yes, a small-market team can finish ahead of the Yankees. All they have to do is be terrible for 10 years and be relatively successful with their plethora top-five draft picks. Seriously though, I want to thank them for keeping the Yankees out of the playoffs for the first time since people were wearing Cross Colours.

7. Nate Silver: It's fitting he comes in right next to the Rays because his PECOTA projection system said they would win 89 games. People said he was crazy. As he proved with fivethirtyeight.com, he's just smarter than everyone else.

6. The New "90210": It's so bad it's good! Or at least that's what I keep telling myself. It's pretty amazing how much the "90210" branding affects me. If this show were called "Matter Of Chance," and was about a group of high school kids form Chance, Mich., I would never watch it (even if it had the greatest trailer ever). But because it's "90210" and it's had some appearances from original cast members, I'm hooked.

5. Heartless Bastards: There's nothing quite like the feeling of discovering a new band and finding out you like pretty much every one of their songs. And then you go see them in concert and they rock your proverbial balls off. Their third album is due out February 3, and as I'm sure you can tell, I'm excited.

4. Joe Posnanski's Blog: Even though he's a contributor to Sports Illustrated, my magazine's competitor, I will say that he is the best sportswriter out there. When I read his blog, I'm constantly thinking, "I wish I could write like that." In fact, if you like this blog a little, you'll probably love his blog and never come back here again. On second thought, maybe I shouldn't have told you about his blog.

3. Shea Stadium: It was a bittersweet farewell for the legendary ballfield as the Mets choked away a postseason opportunity for the second straight September. If you care, you can read about my final experience at Shea. At least I went out on a high note.

2. Bruce Springsteen Concerts: I saw him live for the fourth time this summer, and it never gets old. In fact, if you want a great take on a Springsteen concert, check out Joe Posnanski's. Oh crap, I did it again.

1. David Tyree: If you've been reading this blog, you know my feelings on him. If you haven't been reading this blog, I wrote my definitive David Tyree post here.

Yes, I realize that this was a lot of links, but they were quality links. Just enough to get you through to ABCQ in 2009. Happy new year.

At The Movies, With Bullets!

2008-12-28T18:57:00.000-08:00

Normally, I don’t like writing in bullet-point format. However, I have some thoughts about the holiday movie season, and I don’t really feel like weaving them together to make some broader point while maintaining the beautiful prose you’ve become accustomed to on this blog. As a result, you’re getting bullet points.

1. Oscar Buzz Makes Me Nauseous: For whatever reason(s), producers with aspirations of their film winning awards all try to get them released around the holidays. I’ve never really understood why, but that’s just how it is, and I’d estimate that about 60 percent of Best Picture winners were released after Election Day. The silliest thing about this process is that films start getting talked about as Oscar contenders before anyone has even seen them. Seriously, I’ve been reading about “The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button” and its Academy Award potential for months. Now it might be the greatest movie ever (I haven’t seen it yet), but why don’t we wait until it comes out before we start giving it the “Citizen Kane” treatment? Incidentally, I saw one review refer to it as "original." I don't know everything, but I do know that movies adapted from 87-year-old short stories are not original. Also, how did a movie based on a short story turn out to be 160 minutes? If you make a movie that long, you better be damn sure it's good. I plan on seeing the film because my girlfriend loves the short story, but the kind of "buzz" the film has received reminds of why the Oscars so stupid. It’s completely about hype, and never about the best movies. A perfect example of this phenomenon is . . .

2. The Dark Knight. It Was Stupid: The story had huge holes in it. The metaphors were heavy-handed. It was needlessly violent. The dialogue was moronic. It was just a bad movie, and I don’t get why it is receiving so much hype. In fact, just writing about it is reminding how much I despised it. If Heath Ledger hadn’t died, it wouldn’t be getting talked about for Oscars.

3. Marisa Tomei Is the Benjamin Button Of Movie Stars: A friend of mine was telling me about "The Wrestler," and he commented about how good Marisa Tomei looked, even as an over-the-hill stripper. That's the thing about Tomei, as the years pass, she just looks better and better. When she first emerged as Denise Huxtable's roommate on "A Different World," she was cute in a spunky New Yorker sort of way. That spunky NYC vibe was played up much more effectively during her Oscar-winning performance in "My Cousin Vinnie," and I remember thinking, "I never noticed it during 'A Different World,' but Marisa Tomei is kind of hot." And the recently-turned 44-year-old(!) just seems to be getting hotter.

4. Sean Penn Can Act: Another aspect of the Oscars that I don't like is that it's clear the best actors are not chosen. It's basically a pool of really famous people who got a big break at some point who happen to be in the right Oscar-type movie in a given year. There are hundreds of actors out there who are as talented (or better) than movie stars, they just never got that break for one reason or another. As a result, I never feel like movie stars are actually the best at what they do in the world, so it seems silly to heap even more unnecessary praise on them by giving them awards. Sean Penn is an exception to this.

I saw "Milk" last week, and he is simply exceptional. Unlike pretty much every other movie star this side of Meryl Streep, when I watch Sean Penn I feel like I am watching someone in the 99th percentile of actors in the world. The one major criticism I will make of the film is that the Jack character (played by Diego Luna) makes nails on a blackboard seem pleasant. But then again, the character is based on a real person, so maybe that is how he is in realy life. If that's the case, I wonder what Jack's reaction was to the film was. It's pretty clear that when Milk's friends spoke to the screenwriter, they did not speak kindly of Jack. If it were a work of fiction, I would say the writer should have left him out, but I guess they can't pretend Harvey Milk's long-time boyfriend didn't exist in a biopic about Milk's life. It's really a shame, because he brought nothing to the table.

***After writing this, I was reminded that Jack killed himself in the movie, so there was no way for him to react to the way he was portrayed. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if the fact that he was dead emboldened the other people in Milk's life to talk shit about him.

5. Tropic Thunder Was Disappointing: To channel "David Spade's Hollywood Minute," I liked it better the first time I saw it, when it was called "Zoolander." Both are co-written and directed by Ben Stiller. Both feature a self-involved celebrity played by Stiller who doesn't realize he is past his prime and whose nemesis is another high-profile person of the same profession. One tries to spoof modeling (Zoolander), the other spoofs the movie business (Tropic Thunder), so a lot of the celebrity jokes are the same. Both feature a number of celebrities. Both have appearances by Christine Taylor, Stiller's wife. As an aside, besides playing Marcia Brady, has she ever been in anything when Stiller wasn't involved? She was once on Seinfeld, but Jerry Stiller was on that, so it doesn't count.

Unfortunately, "Tropic Thunder" is not nearly as successful of a parody as "Zoolander." For the most part, it was basically just a pointless action movie that wasn't even a parody of anything. There was great word-of-mouth about this film, but it was a let down for me.

6. I Rarely Like A Movie: I say this with full recognition that it's extremely difficult to make a really good movie that is successful in what it is trying to accomplish. As a result, I find myself truly enjoying about 10% of movies I see. In case you care, the only films I enthusiastically endorse from the past year are "Slumdog Millionaire" and "Forgetting Sarah Marshall." Slumdog was a well-paced romantic adventure on par with "The Princess Bride." FSM was smartly-executed comedy that was both clever and amusing. Take that, Gene Shalit.

Flag Day

2008-12-22T18:45:00.000-08:00

After Sunday night’s epic Giants-Panthers game, I’ve seen a number of columnists and pundits giving a list of “what they learned” from what could be a preview of the NFC championship. I’m not here to pick apart the pundits. Instead, I’m here to tell you what I learned from the game, besides the fact that Derrick Ward is the best player ever to come out of Ottawa University in Kansas. What I learned is this—penalties are pointless.

OK, that might be a bit of an overstatement, but I’m going for shock value here, folks. Let me explain.

Not all penalties are pointless. For example, it’s necessary to call false starts and offsides because if not, a team could get an unfair advantage on any given play. Additionally, I think it’s necessary to call egregious infractions that are dangerous, such as helmet-to-helmet hits, as well as obvious holding and pass interference penalties that directly and severely affect the play. Other than that, let them beat the crap out of each other without official interruption.

There were four penalties in Sunday night’s game. Four! No one complained, and the game was smooth without annoying stoppages that suck the life out of the football-watching experience. Typically, when they show replays of your average holding call, it looks like it could go either way, so why bother calling it? I can’t imagine there was never a case in the Giants-Panthers game when the officials could not have called illegal contact, or illegal motion, or illegal something. But they didn’t, and it made for a far more enjoyable viewing experiencing.

Furthermore, there are also a good chunk of penalties that no fan gives a rat’s ass about anyway. Seriously, who would really care if the NFL stopped calling illegal man downfield, illegal touching (although that one makes me chuckle), or illegal formation? I’ve watched football my entire life, I consider myself a relatively savvy fan, and I am still not entirely sure what makes a formation illegal, and I am not even sure what calling it is supposed to protect. In fact, I’ve asked people in my office who cover the NFL, and they can’t answer the question. When David Letterman make his “Top Ten Signs You Know Your Rule Is Pointless,” I’m pretty sure, “journalists who cover the sport for a living can’t explain it” would be high up there. I guess that’s a long way of saying that particular infraction is a waste of time.

In all seriousness, I think an official’s job in both football and basketball should be to keep both teams honest, without inserting themselves into the game unnecessarily. To me, there is nothing more annoying than officials taking the game into their own hands with a ticky-tack call that has little bearing on the play, such as a holding call away from the play, or an illegal contact, which you could literally call on 90% of pass plays if you wanted to. I remember watching the Giants-Eagles game two weeks ago, and there were fifteen penalties called, about half of which were accompanied by some sort of conference by the officials that made the already boring game drag on even longer. My plea to NFL officials is to get out of your own way, and don't bother calling about half the penalties you usually call. Everyone will be happier. Trust me.

To be fair, I’ll recognize that the Giants (my team) benefited from the two biggest penalties called last night. One was a pass interference in the end zone in the fourth quarter that put the Giants at the Panthers’ one-yard line, and another was a holding call on the Panthers’ Steve Smith that put Carolina back on the outer limits of Jon Kasay’s field goal range just a couple of plays before he missed a field goal that would have won the game. However, those were both pretty severe penalties, with the holding being particularly criminal. That being said, I might not be writing this had those two calls not gone in the Giants’ favor. But if you’ve watched football with me before, you’ve probably heard me rant about how too many stupid penalties are called. Last night was a good example of the type of officiating the NFL should strive for.

During the broadcast, John Madden kept saying that the crew on the field (I think it was Walt Coleman’s crew) had called the fewest penalties in the league. Keep it up guys, you’re doing a heckuva job.

***After writing this post, I looked up Walt Coleman and discovered he was the referee for the legendary “Tuck Rule” game, as well as last week’s controversial Ravens-Steelers tilt that ended on a controversial replay overrule. As it turns out, many people (or at the very least Raiders and Ravens fans) think he is Satan in Zebra stripes, and possibly the worst ref in the league. So maybe he isn’t adept when it comes to interpreting instant replay, but I’m a fan of the way his crew makes, or should I say doesn’t make, calls on the field.

Snow Blows

2008-12-19T12:46:00.000-08:00

I don't mean to generalize, but all women (including my lovely girlfriend Margaret!) love snow. How do I know this? I just do. This was made particularly clear when it snowed for the first time about two weeks ago, and at least three women I am friends with on Facebook changed their status to some variation of, "Yay, it's snowing!!!!!"

Now before you go calling me some sort of grinch, please let it be known that I like snow in certain situations. When I'm skiing, when I was a kid, when he's singing "Informer," and also any time I don't need to do anything practical. However, as I was reminded again today as I was trying to run errands during lunch, snow is typically a giant pain in the ass.

I was trying to get to the toy store because I am going to a party in which the hosts asked all guests to bring something for the "Toys For Tots" program. Being the benevolent fellow that I am, I was happy to oblige, even though it meant braving the insanity of Kay-Bee Toys a week before Christmas. Unfortunately, the snow made this errand take almost twice as long as it should have. You see, I like to do things quickly and efficiently, and snow just slows everything down.

On a side note, I am going to make a terrible holiday-shopping parent. I was in Kay-Bee for 15 minutes, and I wanted to strangle at least 10 people in what can best be described as a low-level riot. Either I'm doing my shopping in July, or my kids aren't getting anything. Sorry in advance, kiddies! When I finally got the front of the line, some guy walked up to me and said, "hey, I don't have time to wait on this line. If I give you $20, will you pay for this $13 toy when you're checking out your items?" It was quite a dilemma, but I decided to decline the $7 profit (probably $5.50 after tax) out of fear of incurring the wrath of the scores of parents waiting not so patiently behind me.

But the Kay-Bee melee wasn't even the worst part, it was the snow. Everyone was walking slower than normal (don't get me started on the pussies who carry umbrellas during snow), there were slushy puddles wherever I stepped, and traffic slowed to a halt. It's the traffic that actually makes it hard for me to understand how anyone can like snow in an urban area. Not only does it slow down traffic, but it also causes accidents! If you say you love snow in New York City, you're essentially saying you are unaffected by car crashes.

If I have time tomorrow, I might take a stroll up to Prospect Park. I'm sure it will be lovely because not every inch of snow will be trampled on, and I won't have to worry about traffic deaths while I'm there.

So, to sum up.

Times snow is good: Skiing, when you're a kid, Informer, rural areas.

Times snow is bad: All other times.

Is Strong Island For Real? Not So Much.

2008-12-17T21:00:00.000-08:00

I have been to a lot of New York sporting events in my life. As a rough estimate, I’d say probably 116 Mets games, 34 Knicks games, 15 Yankees games, eight Rangers games, six Jets games, three Cyclones game, two Giants games, the ECAC Holiday festival, the Jimmy V Classic, the Preseason NIT, Coaches V. Cancer Classic, and a Staten Island Yankees game. I may be missing a few here or there, but I think that pretty much covers it.

Anyone, one thing I had never done . . . oh wait, I went to the Army-Navy game at the Meadowlands once, and I used to go to a lot of Columbia football games when I was about nine years old because I was oddly obsessed with their record losing streak.

Anyway, despite all of these New York sporting events I’ve been to, I’d never been to a New York Islanders game until last night. For reasons I probably shouldn’t divulge because of my job (don’t worry, it’s not that exciting), I had the opportunity to attend the Islanders-Capitals game on Tuesday. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t make the trek out to what the legendary Steve Somers of WFAN refers to as the Mausoleum, but the tickets were free, and they were amazing seats. So hey, why not?

I’d actually been to the Nassau Coliseum once before for Hot 97 Summer Jam 2000, but I had no real recollection of the venue. For rap aficionados, Summer Jam 2000 was when the whole Nas-Jay-Z beef started. Jay-Z performed “The Takeover” for the first time, and put photos of Mobb Deep’s Prodigy in ballet clothes up on the JumboTron. Rap history, and I was there. Yeah, that’s right.

What I had forgotten about the Nassau Coliseum is that it’s a complete dump, and it’s hard to understate that. You walk in, and it’s kind of hard to believe that a pro team from a “major” sport plays there. It looks worn down from the outside, and the inside is just as dingy. The fabric on the seats looks like it might split any minute, and everywhere you look the paint is either cracked or peeling. I relayed my feeling about the venue to a colleague of mine who used to cover the NHL for Sports Illustrated. He said, “What’s funny is that I once referred to the Coliseum as ‘grimey’ in SI about 15 years ago, and I thought the Islanders PR people would be mad, but in fact they took it as a compliment. It was a point of pride for them.” After hearing that, the whole place made a lot more sense.

During the height of my sports fanaticism (circa 1991-1997), I used to be a die-hard Rangers fan. Part of that had to do with the fact that they were really good during that era, and part of it was because I was even more obsessed with sports than I am now. Seriously. At that point in my life, I hated the Islanders as much as any team in professional sports. No team of mine had a rival as intense as the Islanders, and I couldn’t stand the sight of them or the fans. As I realized last night, I no longer give crap about the Islanders. I still hate them more than a team like the Minnesota Vikings, but probably not as much as the Florida Marlins. I’m still a Rangers fan, but I certainly follow them a lot less closely than I used to, and since the Islanders have been irrelevant for at least a decade, I just can’t muster any hatred for them. In fact, when they fell behind 4-2 against the Caps, I actually found myself rooting for them to tie up the game. And even though it was mostly because I just wanted to see shootout, I’m pretty sure my 14-year-old self would never forgive me.

It ended up being a pretty exciting game as the Isles tied it up at four with a couple of minutes left. I was feeling pretty good about seeing a shootout until Alex Ovechkin scored with 10 seconds left to give the Caps a 5-4 victory. Even though I was disappointed about not getting to see a shootout, at least I can I tell my grandkids I saw Ovechkin score two goals in a game. OK, maybe that won’t happen, but he is really impressive. I’m no hockey expert, but what I find so amazing about Ovechkin is that he is clearly the best player whenever he is on the ice. It’s kind of like watching a youth soccer game, and there is always that one kid who is visibly better than anyone else. It’s rare to see someone that stands out that much in pro sports. College, yes, but not pros.

My Jerry Springer final thought on the experience is that there is always a time-warp element to any hockey game, particularly on Long Island. You rarely see dudes with mullets and moustaches on the street, but you go to a hockey game and they're everywhere. I felt like I was an extra in Clerks. Snoochie boochies.

I Got The Hook-Up

2008-12-15T11:34:00.000-08:00

While I probably don't read The New York Times in as much detail as I should, I do make a point to look at nytimes.com at least once a day. If nothing else, I glance at the headlines to make sure I'm at the very least aware of the latest financial crisis or genocide. Also, if I have an extra second I like to look at the list of the ten most e-mailed stories. These are rarely the most important things in the paper, but I like to get a sense of what people think are the stories worth sending to their friends and then mentally mock those people.

As an aside, who actually sends stories via the website? I simply just copy and paste a URL if I want to pass it along. It seems a lot easier. Is it possible I'm just smarter than everyone else? Discuss.

Usually the most sent stories include a number of frivolous features that Times' readers find cute. The one about the 12-year-old food critic comes to mind. In addition to the fluff, there are typically a number of Op-Eds listed among the most e-mailed stories. Say what you want about the Times' op-ed page—it's too liberal, Maureen Dowd is annoying, etc—but it's got clout. And even if you're an arch-conservative, you probably read the page and your opinions are formed, or at least informed, by what you see there. And because of the page's prestige, I can safely assume that there are hundreds of writers who would love to get a crack writing along side Krugman, Kristof and Kristol. (Hmm, maybe KKK isn't the best alliteration.) Because of this prestige, I have to say I was appalled by Sunday's third most e-mailed story, which I came across while casually surfing the web during the Giants' second consecutive whupping at the hands of an NFC East foe.

The column (which moved up to No. 2 on the most e-mailed list as of Monday afternoon) was called "The Demise Of Dating" and it was written by some guy named Charles M. Blow. And yes, I will resist the urge to make an obvious joke that equates the quality of the column with the writer's last name.

Blow begins his piece by writing: "The paradigm has shifted. Dating is dated. Hooking up is here to stay. (For those over 30 years old: hooking up is a casual sexual encounter with no expectation of future emotional commitment. Think of it as a one-night stand with someone you know.)"

Maybe I'm just sensitive because I'm getting close to the age of 30, but who under the age of 60 doesn't know (or can't figure out) what "hooking up" means? Also, you can hook up with someone you don't really know, so he even got the definition wrong. This was an awful attempt to be funny, but I would have forgiven it had the rest of the piece been interesting or informative. It wasn't.

Blow goes on to cite one study that says sex is down, and then another that says sex with strangers is down, but sex with friends is up. The rest of his research relies on calling up some psychologist from from La Salle University who wrote a book about hooking up on college campuses. Apparently dating has changed since Blow was a lad, and while people once dated a while before having sex, they now "hook up" for a while before deciding if they want to date.

Even if there is truth to this trend, isn't this something we've seen before? I'm not old enough to remember, but my understanding was that during the 1960s and 1970s, when people weren't having orgies, they were taking on a new partner every other night and experimenting with various sexual techniques and positions while high on a variety of mind-expanding drugs. OK, maybe that's an exaggeration, but casual sex before dating is not a new phenomenon. Anyone my age knows this, and people old enough to remember the 60s and 70s know this, so I can't figure out who the hell were the people who found this story so compelling that they said to themselves, "Wow, my friend [insert name] would really find this enlightening!"

Considering the column's popularity, I guess it's hard to quibble with the Times decision to run it. But on an elite op-ed page, this seemed like a poor use of space. It was basically some guy bemoaning the fact that dating isn't the same as when he was young. Next up: His column about when pitchers used to throw complete games.

I had never seen Blow's byline before, so I decided to check out his bio. Turns out he is the "visual Op-Ed columnist." I have no idea what that means, and there was certainly nothing visual about this column. On the plus side, if this is what the Times deems worthy of its Op-Ed page, that should give hope to the hundreds of writers trying to get a piece in there.

Putzing Around

2008-12-10T21:20:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure I have another detailed breakdown of the Mets' bullpen in me right now (I will at some point, just not now), but after hearing about the their acquisition of J.J. Putz, I have a few thoughts.

1) Based on my post from this morning, I get the sense Omar Minaya is reading my blog. Because that incredibly convoluted trade is the type of creativity I was talking about.

2) I'm certain that the people who write headlines for the The Daily News and New York Post are extremely excited about the impending J.J. Putz era. What's going to be the headline the first time he blows a game? My roommate and I are pretty certain "What A Putz" is the odds-on favorite.

3) Endy, Godspeed. Even though I missed your legendary catch because I was trying to beat the Shea Stadium bathroom line by taking a mid-inning bathroom break (true story), you will be forever be a part of Mets lore. And to clarify, I wasn't actually in the bathroom, I was buying beers on my way back from the bathroom when Endy threw his glove over the now-demolished left-field wall to rob Scott Rolen of a home run. Too bad you weren't tall enough to take one away from Yadier Molina as well. Sigh.

4) The Mets bullpen will be better this year, and they didn't have to give up any integral parts to make that happen. However, I'm pretty sure Aaron Heilman will be a decent starting pitcher in Seattle and will be mentally giving the city of New York a giant "fuck you" the entire time. I won't blame him.

Sweet, Another Closer I Can Yell At!

2008-12-10T07:42:00.000-08:00

As you can imagine, the e-mails have been pouring in from readers anxious to hear my take on the Mets signing of closer Francisco Rodriguez. I didn't want to type up my thoughts while it was still unconfirmed because I knew it was going to be a rant, and it would be a shame if a 1,000-word opus went to waste. But now that the deal is official, I can chime in. Buckle up.

Anyone who has ever had a discussion with me about closers knows how overrated I think they are. Even before I was devouring Bill James and Baseball Prospectus, I sensed that these guys were frauds. I've never been able to grasp why people seemed to think closers possessed some sort of special ability to get the final three outs, when every year we watched a new batch of retreads and failed starters rack up 30 saves. Closers are made, not born, and you can't convince me otherwise. I'd rather have my best reliever used in a variety of high-leverage than wasting them on protecting two and three-run leads in the ninth. You don't need to pay someone $10 mill to protect a two-run lead, any stiff can do that.

That being said, I recognize that there is something reassuring about having a reliable guy in the ninth inning. The later the game goes, the more emotionally invested you become, and blowing a lead in the sixth inning is not nearly as heart-wrenching as doing it in the ninth. Fortunately, the Mets are in a position in which they have the luxury of spending lots of money on a "proven closer" without it preventing it from making other moves. And when it comes down to it, that is really what defines a bad move—it handcuffs you.

And as much as I despise the thought of spending big bucks on a closer and have hated Billy Wagner from day one as a result of it, I don't think the Mets deal for K-Rod is terrible. Even though I don't believe closing games involves some sort of special intangible ability, a lot of front office folks do. And if you buy into that voodoo BS, K-Rod is good choice.

Not only is he young (27), but among full-time closers, only Mariano Rivera and Joe Nathan have a higher save percentage over the past three seasons than Rodriguez' 89.8% conversion rate. I've come around to the belief that since pretty much all closers are asked to do is protect leads, save percentage is not a bad way to evaluate them. While it might give me an ulcer, I ultimately don't care if my closer allows two runs every time he is given a three-run lead as long we end up winning. And even though Billy Wagner has shinier peripherals, K-Rod has done a better job of protecting leads. That said, save percentage is not a good predictor of performance, and K-Rod's declining K-rate the last couple of seasons gives me pause. But here's the thing: In this market, $37 million over three seasons isn't that much for a closer with K-Rod's resume. And as much as it pains me to admit this, it's actually a bargain. Last season, Francisco Cordero got $46 million from Cincinnati for four years, and they have a limited payroll. So yeah, I think the Mets did OK here, and we can all thank the recession. See, it's not all bad.

The one thing that bothers me about this deal is how predictable it was. When Wagner was ruled out for 2009, I remember saying to my roommate, "Alright, K-Rod's coming here." And I know I wasn't alone. Every Mets fan with half a brain could see this coming from a mile away because the front office seems completely unwilling to think outside of the box in any way, shape or form. Unlike other free agent relievers (Wood and Hoffman, for example), K-Rod was offered arbitration by the Angels. That means the Mets will forfeit a draft pick, in this case a first-round pick, to bring in Rodriguez. For $37 million, roughly $12.3 mill per year, I'm pretty sure the Mets could have brought in at least two good relievers who would not have cost them a draft pick while still having enough money left over to spend some extra dough on the draft, something they've been unwilling to do in the past. By doing that, they not only would have saved themselves a draft pick, but they also would have shored up their bullpen and farm system depth, which are the organization's two biggest weaknesses. But no, creative thinking like that doesn't put you on the fucking back page, so instead the Mets just throw major bucks at big-name free agents and hope that the Mike Lupicas of the world will bite and congratulate them for filling their holes and finding a "winning player," even though those same columnists will be yelling at them in July when Scott Schoenweis is forced to face Albert Pujols with the bases loaded and he gives up a Grand Slam that lands in a North Fork winery.

The not-so-little secret is that bullpen depth is still a huge problem. It was before Wagner went down, it was just exacerbated after his injury. And maybe Minaya et al. discussed some alternatives to signing K-Rod and decided that getting him was the best thing they could do. I just won't really believe it until the Mets show some creativity in building their roster, which is something they've lacked since God knows when.

But the Mets have an incredible four-man core in Reyes, Wright, Beltran and Santana. If there was ever a time for the Mets to spend insanely, it's now. So yeah, go for it. Spend big, and don't waste four superstars in their prime. Don't stop now, though. Go sign 20 more relievers and make sure we aren't left with a bunch of platoon specialists who can't pitch a scoreless inning. Relievers are unpredictable, so if you sign 20, five will pan out. And yes, that's scientific.

But please, for the love of all that is holy, don't sign Raul Ibanez.

Besos,
Matt

Bless This Mess

2008-12-07T14:02:00.000-08:00

If you’re a college football fan, you’re probably sick of hearing everyone’s take on the BCS. Well, here’s one more!

Note: I actually kind of like the BCS because it creates debate. Spirited debate is the best part of being a sports fan, and it's not like other playoff systems give us the best team as champion every year—hello 2006 St. Louis Cardinals! Not that I'm bitter or anything. Moving on.

It’s somewhat moot now that they beat Alabama and are headed to the title game, but how the fuck did the AP voters have Florida over Oklahoma and Texas going into yesterday’s game? I’m not sure I would have even noticed this except for CBS trying to trick us into thinking the SEC title game was No. 1 against No. 2, because that is what they kept putting on the screen—No. 1 Alabama against No. 2 Florida. And it was only then that I realized Florida was No. 2 in the AP poll.

I’ll usually assume the SEC is the toughest conference, but it seemed like it was down this year, and Florida had by far the worst loss (Ole Miss at home) of all the one-loss teams. So how the hell did the voters have them ahead of Oklahoma, Texas, USC and Penn State. People always blame the faceless computers for the quirkiness of the BCS, but the voters are imbeciles.

Another example of this imbecility is how Texas’ loss to Texas Tech was treated. Going into that game, Texas was No. 1 in the AP Poll and Texas Tech was No. 6. After the game, Texas Tech was No. 2 and Texas was No. 5. Really, is that what we learned from that game?

Look at it this way. It was the biggest home game in the history of Texas Tech. They had an insane home-field advantage. They played as well as they could possibly play. Texas came out flat. And yet despite of all that, the Red Raiders needed a dropped interception by Blake Gideon (yes, I had to look him up) and an ridiculous pass into double coverage just to sneak past the Longhorns. And yet the Raiders vaulted past the Longhorns in the minds of the AP voters. But if Gideon catches the easiest INT of his life or if that desperation heave is batted away from Michael Crabtree, Texas stays at No.1 and Tech drops. Really? It just doesn’t make sense.

If those two teams played on a neutral field 10 times, I think it's pretty clear Texas would win at least seven times, and therefore, are the superior team. As far as I’m concerned, that game taught us that despite the narrow loss, Texas is better. Instead, voters take every result as an indication of distinct superiority by one team even though that isn't often the case. And what ends up happening is what happened with Texas, who never recovered from their loss to Texas Tech, even though they essentially won the game.

I can understand why votes dropped Texas below Texas Tech after that game, though I wouldn't have blamed anyone for keeping the Longhorns ahead. I certainly don't see how Texas should have fallen below any one-loss team, yet they fell one spot below a Florida team that had lost at home to Ole Miss. WTF?!?!?

Maybe it would not have mattered and Florida would have eventually overtaken Texas in the BCS, but I still think Texas got screwed even beyond Oklahoma somehow sneaking past them in the BCS rankings. The writers will write column after column blaming the computers for all the flaws of the BCS, and it’s simply a ploy to distract everyone else from their stupidity.

Vampire Weeknight: As If I Never Left

2008-12-04T16:25:00.000-08:00

In the time since my last post, a woman could have conceived and given birth (albeit about four weeks early). But in the last few weeks I keep finding myself saying, “you know, that would be a fun blog topic.” As a result, I’ve decided to give this thing another go. Hopefully it will take this time.

As some of you might know, during my eight-plus month hiatus I turned 29 years old. So did Tracy McGrady. I bring this up because I remember when he was drafted in 1997, my thought at the time was, “holy shit, he’s my age.” Up until that moment, every athlete I had every watched was definitively older than me. And even though McGrady is technically a few months older than I am, he is, for all intents and purposes, my age.

It took a few years, but I finally got used to the fact that a lot of athletes were going to be younger than me, and I have know spent a good portion of my career interviewing and writing about such athletes. It’s no longer a big deal. When it comes to musicians, however, it’s a different story.

This hit me last night when I went with a few friends to go see Vampire Weekend. They are one of those bands that are really popular in certain circles, but totally anonymous in others. For example, among 20-year-old white preppy types in NYC, they’re huge. But I’m guessing no one in Omaha knows who the fuck they are. Incidentally, and this goes back to an earlier post, I just wrote that last sentence before I saw on their Wikipedia page that the founder of “Stuff White People Like” named Vampire Weekend the whitest band ever.

Anyway, as I watched them on stage, I simply could not get over the fact that they are only about 22 or 23 years old. Rock stars are supposed to be people you can kind of worship, and I can’t bring myself to get that worked up about a bunch of semi-hipster Columbia grads six years younger than me. I’ve always been into musicians that are older than me, so this was never really an issue before. Don’t get me wrong, they sounded really good and put on a solid show. But I can’t go nuts for them they way I would at a Springsteen show.

Vampire Weekend still only has one album, so they had 12 songs to play, and that is all they played (plus one cover, which I’ll get to in a minute). At one point the lead singer said, “yeah, we don’t really have any more songs to play. Hopefully the next time we come to New York we’ll have another album and we can give you a real show.” Real show? What the fuck did I just pay $35 for?

Another thing that struck me most about their performance is that they sounded almost exactly like they do on their record. In some ways this is good because I like the way they sound on their record. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have paid $35 to see them. On the flip side, it makes it seem almost pointless if they are just going to sound like the record. In many ways they reminded me of the early Beatles in that they have floppy haircuts, and they play really short pop-sounding guitar songs. It’s like that footage you see of The Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show when they came out and rocked out “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” just like it sounded on 45. The biggest difference—other than The Beatles being legends—is that I’m pretty sure The Beatles didn’t have a string section. And if they did, I’m pretty sure one of them wouldn't have worn a Kevin Dyson Tennessee Titans jersey. That was weird.

The highlight of the show was the encore, when Vampire Weekend covered “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac. What was so great about it is that I have always loved that song, but never knew the freaking title until the lead singer, who sounded remarkably like Stevie Nicks, said it. Who needs Shazam?

Finally, A Post About Baseball!

2008-04-02T17:55:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the opportunity to chat with scouts, coaches and player development types, I learned a lot about baseball during my time at Baseball America. Above all else, I discovered what seems to be the most important tenet in running an organization: know what you have.

It seems pretty basic, but it’s also something that can be overlooked. Before you can go scouting players in other organizations, it’s imperative to have a strong understanding of the value and potential of the players in your organization. When John Schuerholz and Walk Jocketty were GMs of the Braves and Cardinals, they were regularly lauded for knowing which prospects to trade when their value was at its highest, and which to hold on to. That’s because they knew what they had.

The reason I bring this up is because as a Mets fan, I worry that GM Omar Minaya is sorely lacking in this regard, particularly when it comes to pitching. As evidence, I’ll point to three trades he made last offseason that involved 10 players, nine of which were pitchers.

There was the trade in which the Mets sent Brian Bannister to the Royals in exchange for Ambiorix Burgos, and the deal that saw them send Henry Owens and Matt Lindstrom to the Marlins for Jason Vargas and Adam Bostick. And there was also the swap with the Padres in which the Mets dealt Heath Bell and Royce Ring for John Adkins and Ben Johnson (the lone non-pitcher).

Of the five players the Mets received, not one of them is currently on their 25-man roster. Conversely, Bannister looks to be emerging as a solid mid-rotation starter, Bell was one of the best relievers in baseball in 2007, and Lindstrom also came on strong to post a 3.09 ERA with 62 strikeouts in 67 innings last year.

These deals are forgotten to some degree because they don’t get you on the back page like the Johan Santana deal, but Omar appears to have gotten fleeced in all of them. That’s a strong indication that he and his player development staff do not have a strong feel for the talent of the players in their system. And it also means that their scouts are unable to discover diamonds in the rough in other organizations.

When you consider the problems with pitching depth the Mets are facing, that’s troubling.

I don’t discount the chance that Vargas and Bostick could still become solid back-end starters, but that’s looking pretty unlikely. Burgos, when healthy, still has upside, but he’s still erratic. If all goes well, he’ll have one season as good as Bell’s 2007 season.

Since he arrived, Omar has been building this team for the now, yet he keeps on trading away pitchers that are ready to fill in immediately at the big league level.

Too Good To Be True

2008-03-20T15:33:00.000-07:00

It's been 18 hours, and I still can't get over how good last night's season finale of "The Gauntlet" was. Did I say "good?" I meant "great." I knew there was a reason why I continue to grind through season after season of The Real World/Road Rules challenges, and the payoff is episodes like the one I watched last night.

If you didn't watch, here's a synopsis: The Veterans dominated the entire season, and were successful in getting rid of perceived weak links from their team before the final mission. However, they didn't get rid of a fat guy named Eric who ended up collapsing in the midst of a long run and had to go to the hospital. After Eric got carted off, they still tried to finish the race and ended up passing the Rookies anyway and finishing before them. They thought they might actually get the win, but they were disqualified because not everyone on their team finished.

I am not sure what was more amazing, the fact that The Veterans didn't realize early in the season that an obese out of shape guy might be a huge liability in the final mission, or that they actually thought they might be credited with a victory after coming back to win once the obese out of shape guy was rush to the hospital.

The Veterans were so cutthroat the entire time in their effort to "trim the fat," yet they seemed to miss the giant albatross that was getting wasted with them every night. And at somewhere close to 300 pounds, Eric is hard to miss. Seriously, did they think Katie or Coral would have actually slowed them down more than Eric?

Don't get me wrong, Eric seems like a fun guy, and that's probably how they justified not trying to eliminate him. That, and the fact that they were scared to go against him in a Gauntlet. But seriously, who would you be more scared of in a physical competition, Eric, or someone like CT or Brad? Even if the event severely favored a heavy person, you could beat him just by waiting (no pun intended) him out.

It was pretty amusing when they cut back to the scene from an earlier episode when Johnny Bananas pointed out how much of a liability Eric would be in a final mission. I am sure Johnny laughed as he watched last night's episode. Or at least I hope he was laughing at his teammates, not at Eric going to the hospital. That would be mean.

But probably not as mean as the rest of The Veteran team who basically tried to drag Eric around even though it was clear he was not going to make it and might be in serious physical danger. Brad was the only one of them with even a mild degree of sympathy, while the rest were obsessed with getting their 10 percent of $300,000.

When you consider how obnoxious they were last and through the entire season, losing served them right.

As for the Rookies, they should be thanking their lucky stars that Frank wouldn't let them strike a deal with Danny for immunity in the previous episode. If they had done that, then Eric could have gone into the Gauntlet and possibly been eliminated before the final mission. Since Frank wouldn't agree to the deal, they were able to grant Eric immunity and have a chance to win the final mission, which they did.

I know I said I would stop writing about The Gauntlet a few weeks ago, but last night was just too juicy. Besides, it was the finale. I need to do something with my time before baseball season starts.

Please Don't Kiss Me, I'm Not Irish

2008-03-17T20:23:00.000-07:00

Those that know me know that I will typically look for any excuse for a good time. And by “good time,” I mean “go drinking with my friends.”

“Oh really, it’s Guy Fawkes Day? I had no idea! Where are we going to celebrate?”

You only live once (a cliché, but true), and there’s no reason not to look for reasons to have fun with your friends. Or at least that’s how I try and live my life.

There is one day, however, that the rest of the natural-born world uses as an excuse to go out drinking with their friends that I will annually avoid. And that day is today.

I know what you’re thinking, “who doesn’t like St. Patrick’s Day?” Well, I don’t. I’m not exactly sure when this boycott began, because I know I have partaken in St. Patty’s Day revelry in the past. And if you think I’m an Irish-phobe of some sort, you’re wrong on that count as well. I spent a semester of college studying in Dublin, and I have nothing but fine things to say about the good people of The Emerald Isle.

In reality, it’s not the way Irish people respond to St. Patty’s Day that bothers me so much. It’s that fact that every Tom, Dick and Harry decides that they’re “Irish” on March 17, and that means getting wasted to the point of incoherence and acting belligerent because hey, that’s what Irish people do!

Seriously, is there any cultural event that perpetuates more negative stereotypes than St. Patrick’s Day? What’s the line of thinking here, since all Irish people are drunken assholes, let’s ask like drunken assholes in celebration of their fine culture? I’m surprised that folks don’t take this idea to a further extreme and start dressing up like the leprechaun from the Lucky Charms commercials.

Baby Pet Peeves

2008-03-16T15:31:00.000-07:00

I was at brunch today with my sister, father, and his girlfriend when I encountered one of my biggest pet peeves. It’s not quite up there with people who say “personal opinion,” but it’s close.

We were discussing the recent preponderance of baby showers that my sister has had to attend, when my dad’s girlfriend asked her about yesterday’s shower specifically.

“Does she know the sex of the baby?”

“Yes, she’s having a girl.”

“Oooh, how nice!”

I don’t mean to pick on my father’s girlfriend because everyone seems to do this, but would she have been disappointed if she found out it was going to be a boy? Every time I hear a person find out the sex of someone else’s baby, they always act really excited, as if that was the answer they were hoping for.

As I see it, there is no reason for anyone to have a vested interest in the gender of someone else’s baby, particularly if they barely know the person, which is the case here. A baby’s gender is pertinent information, but it’s not news that should elicit a reaction that is either positive or negative, it should simply be digested. However, I would be amused if someone reacted to hearing the gender by glumly saying, “oh, that’s too bad.” It’s never happened though.

Now when it comes time for me to be a father (don’t worry Mom, it will happen eventually), I will certainly care. In a perfect world, I’d have a boy and a girl. But if I could only choose one, I’d prefer a boy for the simple fact that I know it will be easier for me to relate to a boy. A less pressing reason is that a boy would also give me a greater chance of having my spawn make millions as a professional athlete.

Anyway, my only theory as to why people always pretend to be excited when they hear the gender of someone else’s baby is that they think that this kind of news deserves an excited response. I’m here to tell you that it doesn’t.

This gender thing got me thinking of another pet peeve of mine that also has to do with reproduction. It’s become trendy in recent years to hear couples say, “we’re pregnant.” This drives me absolutely insane.

And when I say this, it’s not because I am trying to win points with feminists by acknowledging that men don’t have any idea what being pregnant is like. It bothers me because it’s just not true. I’ve been told that couples say “we’re pregnant” as a way of demonstrating just how much of a group effort the whole process is going to be, but that’s horseshit. The man can help all he wants, but he’s got the easy part.

If a couple wants to say, “we’re expecting,” that’s fine. But “we’re pregnant” is not.

Time To Say Goodbye

2008-03-02T20:22:00.000-08:00

Jerry Seinfeld has a routine where he laments the changing nature of rooting for teams in professional sports. With all the trades and movement via free agency, Seinfeld says it’s gotten to the point where we’re all rooting for laundry, because the clothes stay the same but the players don’t.

It’s not one of his funnier routines, but the point is accurate. The transient nature of professional sports has made it foolish to get too attached to any players on your favorite team. Since I’m typically a realist, this hasn’t been too much of a problem for me. While my allegiance to my favorite teams never wanes, I usually choose my favorite players from around the league. These are players I enjoy watching for one reason or another, and since they’re not on my team, I don’t really care what team they play for.

Sometimes, however, I find myself choosing my favorite player from my favorite team, but rarely have I ever had the disappointment of seeing him leave during the prime of his career. I was dejected to see personal favorites like Charles Oakley (Knicks) and Jessie Armstead (Giants) leave town, but they had already given me years of enjoyment as a fan, so I was able to come to grips with their departure.

It’s not always so easy to see our favorites leave, so you can imagine my dismay when I found out that safety Gibril Wilson, my favorite member of the New York Giants, had signed a free agent contract with the Raiders just four years into his career.

After being drafted by the Giants in the fifth round of the 2004 NFL Draft, Wilson entered the league with little fanfare. And to be honest, I latched onto him mostly because of his amusing name. From Pepper Johnson to Osi Umenyiora, the Giants have never lacked great names, and Gibril was no exception.

Similar to the way I developed a fondness for Armstead, I watched Wilson as he excelled on special teams and in certain pass-defense packages his first couple of years in the league. It turned out he was actually pretty good, and I never hesitated to sing his praises to all my fellow Giants fans.

But then he became a major contributor to the Super Bowl champions, and suddenly he was a hot commodity on the free agent market. And when I found out that the Raiders were hot after him and he was raised in northern California, it seemed like a no-brainer he would end up there. When you factor in that the Raiders were willing to make him the third-highest paid safety in the league, and it was a recipe for his departure.

I can’t blame him for taking the money because word around the campfire is that Giants weren’t going to come close to matching the $39 million contract he received that included $16 million in guaranteed cash. I don't want to say Wilson isn't worth it, but I get the sense the Raiders are attaching a little too much value to the fact that he just won the Super Bowl, as if he has some magic winning dust. If the Giants lost to the Patriots, I have to think the contract he received would have been worth about 30 percent less.

Don’t worry, this is not going to ruin my week, or even my day. It’s just a little disappointing. The lesson, as always, is Seinfeld sees all.

Caught In A Landslide

2008-02-27T20:35:00.000-08:00

When I was about 13, my travel soccer from South Riverdale went to Purchase, N.Y. to play F.C. Westchester. As far as we were concerned, they might as well have been A.C. Milan. All I remember about the game was that we lost 8-0, and it could easily have been three times that bad. As my teammate’s father so eloquently put it, “I felt like I was watching the Harlem Globetrotters . . . but my son was on the Washington Generals.”

This season’s “Gauntlet” has a similar feel.

If you’ve been watching, you know what I’m talking about it. The Veterans are the Globetrotters, and the Rookies are the Generals. It’s just getting silly. So silly that I might not be able to write about it anymore.

MTV basically tried to give the Rookies a victory with that stupid burial challenge, and they still couldn’t win. How incompetent do you have to be? The funniest part about it was how the players were freaking out about getting buried two feet deep in the sand. Do you really think MTV is going to let you die on the show? These contestants just get dumber every season.

And after all that, the Rookies still wouldn’t put Nehemiah into the gauntlet against Frank, even though he was clearly the reason they couldn’t win an event that was essentially handed to them on a platter. So instead, they throw in the almighty M.J., and it seemed like everyone thought it was a foregone conclusion he would beat Frank. Is it because M.J. played football at Vanderbilt? Please.

It’s not like Frank is built like McLovin’, and he proved it by defeating M.J.

So now we’re at the point where the Veterans have twice as many players as the Rookies, not to mention a crate load of schwag they’ve won along the way. There seems to be a sentiment among the Vets that having too many players is going to be a detriment in the final mission.

While this strikes me as a needless worry when you consider their domination, it’s also setting up setting up to be the only drama left in this season as the Vets try and figure how they can get some of their female players kicked off.

All in all, it’s been a pretty disappointing season. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop watching though.

No Bourbon For Me

2008-02-26T14:27:00.000-08:00

After living outside of New York for most of the past three years, the best part about being back is the ability to reconnect with old friends and family. It's not that I didn't like living in North Carolina because I did, but my social network runs much deeper up in NYC. Considering I grew up here and lived here for two years out of college, it really should come as no surprise.

As a result, I've spent the better part of my first couple of months in New York feverishly trying to catch up with old friends. One of these friends is a buddy from college that moved to Manhattan while I was in North Carolina, which makes it a lot easier to hang out with him.

He's a ton of fun, so I'm usually down to meet up with him, except of course when he wants me to join him for his regular Thursday visit a bar called Bourbon St. on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

He has a good reason for going there, and it's because Bourbon St. serves $1 drafts on Thursdays, and he tries to get me to join his group of regulars almost every week. I just can't do it, and there's a good reason.

When I was in high school, Bourbon St. was known as one of those places known for being rather relaxed when it came to scrutinizing IDs at the door. Therefore, it was also a place that had a younger clientele. When I was a junior in high school, a friend of mine and I decided to finally get up to speed with the rest of the country's teenage population and get fake IDs. With IDs, we reasoned, we'd finally be able to get into cool bars like Bourbon St.

One Saturday afternoon, we made a trek down to the West Village to one of those shady stores where it's kind of hard to tell exactly what they sell, but you know they have fake IDs.

We didn't really know what we were doing, and it showed. Our problems were further complicated by the fact that we didn't want to spend more than $40 or so per man. This meant that we wouldn't be getting replica out-of-state licenses, but rather generic-looking college IDs. We had friends with similar IDs, however, and those seemed to work OK. We figured we'd be OK.

I like to think that we were pretty bright kids, yet we decided to get IDs that were virtually identical, except mine said "St. John's University," and his said "Rutgers University." You'd think we'd have realized that since we planned on using these IDs at the same time, our IDs would look better if they were from the same school. Apparently not.

We were pretty proud of our purchase, and we looked forward to getting to try them out. I was a little bit of a wimp, so I didn't want to risk using them anywhere out of fear of them being confiscated, or worse, us getting arrested. As you can tell, I was a bit paranoid as a teenager. One place I wasn't afraid to try my crappy fake ID was Bourbon St., and sure enough, my friend and I waltzed right in.

What I didn't realize at the time is that bars either take fake IDs, or they don't. This wasn't a situation where my ID was being examined for its authenticity, because it was obviously fake to anyone with a third-grade education. The biggest lesson I learned from that experience is that it behooves any teenager to spend the money on a good ID. You're high school years will be more fun, and you won't have to worry about whether you're good enough for places like Bourbon St.

When I first got back to NYC in December, I begrudgingly joined my friend on Thursday at Bourbon St. because I hadn't seen him in a really, really long time. And while it was great to see him, I couldn't shake the feeling of being anywhere from 5-to-10 years older than the everyone else there. After that, I vowed never to go back there again.

To turn a phrase from Groucho Marx, I don't want to go to any bar that would have a dorky 17-year-old version of myself as a patron.

White People Like Stuff

2008-02-24T12:16:00.000-08:00

Being the hip New Yorker that she is, my sister is always in on the cutting edge. So of course it was her that sent me the think to "Stuff White People Like," a hot new blog that is pretty self-explanatory. The blog is quite "smart" as my boss here at ESPN Mag likes to say, and I found myself shaking my head with self-awareness as I read it. Since I'm in my late 20s and live in Park Slope, the blog is basically poking fun at my entire demographic.

In my defense, I will say that I don't like Oscar parties, snowboarding or food Co-ops. I do like Mos Def, however, I've been down with him since he was one half of Black Star, and before he was appearing on Chapelle's Show.

I take pride in being able to laugh at myself, so I got to thinking about other things that white people like that should appear on that blog. Fortunately, my Saturday night gave me plenty of fodder as I was at a birthday party at Automatic Slim's, which is a closet-sized bar in the West Village that spins all sorts of music white people like. Over the course of the evening, I realized there are three songs that stand above the rest in terms of the love-affair white folks have with them, and they are "Livin' On A Prayer," "Don't Stop Believing," and "Sweet Caroline."

To be honest, I can't really decide which of these songs white people love most. My friends used to own a bar up by Columbia University, and they claim that "Livin' On A Prayer" would be played on the jukebox at least twice on any crowded night. Ever since then, I've always considered that the quintessential white person bar song. And to be honest, if I never hear that song again at a bar, I'll be a happy person. I don't choose music at bars, however, and when that song comes on, the white kids start belting out the story of Tommy and Gina like its going out of style, even though it's clearly not. Last night was no exception.

The Bon Jovi "classic" received some competition from Neil Diamond and Journey last night, and I came to realize that those two songs might have surpassed "Livin' On A Prayer" on the white people chart. To see the pleasure white folks derive from screaming out a "ba-ba-baa" after each "Sweet Caroline" is quite remarkable. When the song regained popularity after it's appearance in the film "Beautiful Girls," I was into it. More than a decade later, I'm pretty fucking sick of it.

It's become even more nauseating due to its association with the Boston Red Sox, who play the song in the middle of the eighth inning at every home game. It's a nice little tradition, and I don't begrudge them for it. Even the Mets play it now, and with the exception of Billy Wagner, it's my least favorite thing about the organization right now.

Unfortunately, the Red Sox success has made the song far more prevalent and we're forced to hear it more frequently. On the plus side, it helps prove my theory because I don't think there is a team with a whiter fan base in all of sports than the Boston Red Sox. Have you ever seen a non-white Red Sox fan? Me neither, and Red Sox "nation" is everywhere.

That brings us to "Don't Stop Believing," but I'll stop short of poking fun of that song because I still kind of like. That being said, I only think I can deal with hearing it at bars for another year or so before I want stab Steve Perry with a spoon.

MJ Returns! No, Not That MJ

2008-02-13T20:22:00.001-08:00

Have no fear, The Gauntlet Report is back. I know you loyal readers probably suffered withdrawal, but I’m here to bring in strong like MJ with the Rookies on last night’s Gauntlet.

Man, what a moment that was! The Rookies were all bummed because they were losing folks left and right, and here comes our friend from The Real World: Philadelphia to save the day. I would have liked to see them put MJ in slow motion while he was running across the beach with the “Chariots Of Fire” theme playing to really spice up the drama, but it’s not my call.

I have to give credit to our favorite good ol’ boy, because MJ made his presence known pretty quickly. Not only did he look like he was pulling his weight in the challenges, but he even ran his mouth a bit, criticizing Frank for the way in which he was trying to stand up for Jillian.

You have to hand it to Frank and Jillian, by the way. The whole world seems to be against them, they are constantly overcoming obstacles to keep their dorky affair going. It’s really quite romantic. They’re like Tony and Maria from West Side Story . . . if Tony and Maria were boring New Englanders. I’m not even sure Frank and Jillian are boring New Englanders, but they might as well be.

All that really matters is that it looks like nothing is going to stand between Frank and Jillian and the final mission, and one of the casualties of their desire was Zach, who Frank whupped in The Gauntlet. The plus side of this was MTV putting together a music montage of Zach highlights before his send-off. The producers have done these montages before, most memorably when Timmy “retired” after a loss in a recent challenge, and they are always good for a laugh.

Another thing I’ve also noticed in my years of watching these challenges is that they seem to have their own lexicon. When host T.J. Lavin wants to give credit to a player for a strong performance, he always says, “you killed it.” Any player who thinks they are going to be sent into The Gauntlet will refer to themselves as being “on the chopping block.” The other popular one, which was in heavy rotation tonight, was “trim the fat.” This phrase is used in reference to getting the weaker players eliminated for the good of the team. Aren’t the Real World and Road Rules kids masters of metaphor? If I were William Safire, I might dedicate my next “On Language” column to their wordsmenship.

It looks like the Veterans are ready to actually “trim the fat,” as three of their male members were discussing throwing the next mission as a way of making sure some their female members get eliminated. What I find odd is that the male Veterans keep talking about how their women are slowing them down, yet they’ve won six out of seven missions. Umm, fellas, they can’t be that bad.

I’m a little worried about the integrity of the game being compromised if missions get thrown. Senator Arlen Specter has already shown a willingness to investigate the New England Patriots’ “Spygate”, could The Gauntlet be next?

Thoughts On Ping Pong And Mariah

2008-02-11T14:19:00.000-08:00

I’m only two weeks into this blog, and I’ve already gone through my first week-long slump. On the surface, this seems problematic for the future of this blog, but I have a really good excuse. Two really good excuses, in fact.

The first excuse is that my roommates and I recently purchased a Ping Pong table. And if you have ever purchased a Ping Pong table before, you know what it’s like. The best thing I can compare it to is the first couple of months with a new girlfriend (or boyfriend), when you simply cannot get enough of that person. You want to see them in the morning, afternoon and night.

Since last Thursday, that has been my roommates and I with our Ping Pong table.

My second excuse is that I was the host of rollicking housewarming party on Saturday. The toughest part about hosting the soiree was that we were forced to put the Ping Pong table away for the night. Once it was nesting cozily in the closet, the party was a great success. Unfortunately, my vicious hangover prevented me from writing anything on Sunday, which had been my plan.

But besides making my head throb like a cartoon heartbeat for the better part of the Lord’s Day, the party helped prove two pet theories of mine. They are as follows, 1) Whether they want to admit it or not, everyone loves Mariah Carey, and 2) About 90 percent of the population thinks they are really good at Ping Pong.

It might be deemed “gay” to admit as much, but I love Mariah Carey. I came to this realization over a number of years, and it hit home when I was in Ireland a few years back and a Mariah compilation came on in a bar. About five songs in, I said to myself, “holy shit, Mariah has a bunch of great songs.”

I was closeted about my Carey crush for a couple of years, but I will now openly admit it. I think it’s because I realized that most people feel the same way about Mariah. And though a lot of us like to turn our noses at pop music, there’s no doubt that there’s something to be said about a great pop song, and the bottom line is that Mariah knows how to make a great freaking pop song.

The power of a great pop song comes through most powerfully at a party. I take a bit of pride in putting together a fun party mix, and I felt very good about the combo I had diced up for Saturday’s festivities. Through the course of the 80-song mix, I threw in three separate songs that featured Ms. Carey, and while I got a good response for the music of the evening, there was not one song that got more props than, “Always Be My Baby.”

Eyes lit up throughout the room as soon Carey piped in with the first “doo-doo-doo, ah”, and at least three people (I was pretty drunk, so keeping track was tough) walked up to me and said something along the lines of, “great song choice! You are the handsomest man at this party.” OK, I might have made the second part of that up.

To further prove the resonance of Mariah, I remember being in a city park in Columbus, Ohio this past October. A group of four teenage boys decked out in urban-wear du jour strolled past me and sat down at a bench with a boom box. While I was still in earshot, I could hear them pumping the aforementioned Mariah track that was such a hit with my friends on Saturday night.

When Mariah wasn’t the topic of conversation, my roommates and I were pimping our new Ping Pong table. We’re pretty proud of it, and we wanted to share that pride with our friends, who invariably all proclaimed to be the second coming of Forrest Gump, who despite being fictional, is the most famous Ping Ponger ever.

Now I’m not saying these people are lying, because it’s not that hard to be a serviceable Ponger. However, there has to be a spectrum of skill, and someone has to be at the bottom. I used to play religiously at summer camp, so I’ve always fancied myself as within the top 20 percent of recreational players. This belief was brought into question in college when my friends and I used to play after dinner, and I came face to face with many players who had grown up with a table in their suburban rec room. I never had such a luxury, so my play was limited to the summer.

What struck me most was that everyone in my group of friends claimed to be an excellent player. And while everyone could play, there was clearly a hierarchy. It was then that I first came up with my theory that everyone claims to be good at the game.

I’d always wanted a Ping Pong table to call my own, and now the dream has been fulfilled. And now that I have a table, I’m sure I can vault myself back into my imaginary top 20 percent. Like I said, everyone (including me) thinks they are great at the game.

Ping Pong and I have always shared a special bond, though I can’t really describe it. I’ll just quote Mariah and say, “we belong together.”

***Sorry I missed last week’s installment of “The Gauntlet Report.” I didn’t get to watch it until Saturday, and it seemed silly to write it up three days later. I’ll have it this week though. I think.

David Tyree Is My Homey

2008-02-05T20:20:00.000-08:00

I’ll be honest, I figured that the next time one of my teams won a championship, it would be the Mets.

It turned out to be the Giants, however, and I’m not complaining. Sunday was as much fun as I’ve had watching a sporting event in a long time, and the best part about it was seeing a player I adopted as a personal favorite many years back emerge as a surprise hero.

I know I’m not alone in falling prey to what I call the “I knew him back when” phenomenon. There’s something we seem to enjoy about discovering something or someone before everyone else.

It’s the reason you’ll hear people brag about the time they saw The Shins play at some tiny club in bumfuck Texas before Zach Braff decided to put them on the “Garden State” soundtrack, and it’s why my friends roll their eyes when I tell them about the time I saw Ryan Braun hitting the crap out of the ball at batting practice in Greensboro while playing in low Class A. And it’s why I was thrilled to see David Tyree make what was probably the greatest catch in Super Bowl history.

Hardcore Giants fans will remember a time around the turn of the century when their special teams were absolutely abysmal. It got so bad at one point that coach Jim Fassel started using his starters because the typical mix of back-up defensive backs and wide receivers were not getting it done. Watching the Giants try to cover a kick was like trying to watch Rocky Balboa chasing the chicken to work on his quickness.

Enter David Tyree.

Even though Tyree was a solid wide receiver while playing at Syracuse, he was drafted in the sixth round in 2003 based solely on his special teams skills. Immediately, my friend Dan and I decided that Tyree was going to be a difference maker. And for once, we were right.

With Tyree covering kicks, the Giants had a special teams weapon unseen since the days of Reyna Thompson. He was so good that he even made the Pro Bowl in 2005 as a special teamer, and Dan and I felt vindicated for having jumped on the Tyree bandwagon so early. At one point we even discussed getting Tyree jerseys.

As you can imagine, we were ecstatic to see Tyree not only make the aforementioned catch that seemed suited for Barnum & Bailey, but also add a TD catch. I felt an even greater bond with Tyree because he is from Montclair, N.J., which is where my family owned a Five-and-Dime for generations.

After the Giants stunning victory, Dan and I were joined by our friend Dave (another Giants fan) walking down the streets of Brooklyn and reveling with other Big Blue faithful. More than once I heard some lesser fan exclaim, “who the fuck is that Tyree guy?”

All I could do was smile and think, “man, those Tyree jerseys would look pretty cool right now.”

The Gauntlet Report, Volume I

2008-01-31T20:47:00.000-08:00

In our current era of vapid pop culture, the phrase “guilty pleasure” gets thrown around quite frivolously in order to justify wasting our time on crappy television and music. I resist the urge to fall prey to this phenomenon, but when it comes to “The Gauntlet,” as well as any other reincarnation of “The Real World/Road Rules Challenge,” I can’t help myself.

I’ve been watching for years, and I’m hoping to make my “Gauntlet Report” a weekly feature here on ABCQ. Bill Simmons has long advocated replacing the NHL with the challenges as the fourth major sport in this country, so this even fits the sports theme of this blog. Don’t worry, I’ll mix it up sometimes.

We’re two episodes into the newest season, but we got the special bonus of seeing two people eliminated this week. That’s like the time the guy at Dunkin’ Donuts accidentally gave me two crullers when I only asked for one.

First we lost Angel from the Rookies team after she almost miraculously came back to defeat Jillian in the Gauntlet. Angel seemed nice, but I didn’t care because I had no idea where she came from. I used to make a point to at least watch a few episodes of every season of both “The Real World” and “Road Rules”, but I guess I missed one somewhere because I didn’t recognize her.

It might be a sign of maturity that I’m no longer fully aware of every member of “The Real World” or “Road Rules”, but I felt a little out of touch. I had actually tuned into a couple of episodes of “The Real World: Sydney” just so I would be familiar with them in this challenge. Much to my dismay, none of them are on “The Gauntlet.” There is no doubt that Dunbar would have already been in a fight with CT and sucked face with any of the Pamela, Tori, Janelle triumvirate. It’s a shame.

The second person to go down was Tyler, who seemed to be doing his best to reinforce every negative gay stereotype in the world. When he wasn’t overly emotional and catty, he was doing everything he could to get into the pants of Ryan, the only other gay guy in sight. Ryan, doing his best to resist gay stereotypes, shunned Tyler’s advances and seemed very pleased when Tyler hit the bricks.

After three challenges, the veterans seem to be in control with a 3-0 lead. There is definitely more firepower on their side, but you can easily see them falling apart once they lose a challenge or two, and you know it’s going to happen.

And if Vegas were to create prop bets on “Gauntlet”-related events, I feel strongly that “CT getting kicked off for punching someone else on his team,” would be off the board.

Oye Como Va

2008-01-29T19:12:00.000-08:00

I was all prepared to mix up the sports theme of this blog with a post about “The Millionaire Matchmaker,” a new reality show on Bravo that I have recently become fascinated with.

But then the Mets went out and acquired the best pitcher in baseball, and I figured that since baseball is kind of my “thing” and I’m a Mets fan, I should probably weigh in.

Before I progress, I want to make it clear that I am aware that this trade could fall through if the Mets can’t reach a contract agreement with Johan Santana in the next 72 hours, but I have a feeling Los Wilpones will open the check book wide for the two-time Cy Young award winner. Therefore, YIPPEE.

After I heard about this trade I recalled my feelings on July 31, 2004, when the Mets made the ill-fated Scott Kazmor-for-Victor Zambrano swap, and I decided that today’s emotions were pretty much the exact opposite of that.

I am normally opposed to four-for-one trades like the one the Mets made to get Santana because I believe strongly in building through the farm system. But I also believe that there’s a time to pay big, and that’s when truly elite talent is available. It’s why the Mike Piazza trade made sense, it’s why the Carlos Beltran signing made sense, and it’s why this Santana trade makes sense.

And having ranked the top 30 prospects in the Mets farm system in the 2005 and 2006 Baseball America Prospect Handbook, I feel qualified to speak about the four prospects the Mets gave up with some degree of authority.

I’m not going to list the merits and faults of Carlos Gomez, Kevin Mulvey, Phil Humber and Deolis Guerra, but I will say that I don’t think the Mets gave up any future stars. Gomez and Guerra have that potential, but they are far from being locks. I’ve always seen Gomez’ ceiling as being comparable to Alex Rios, and Guerra’s lack of a breaking pitch (and the fact that he is barely old enough to go to R-rated movies) makes it hard to truly project him.

As for Mulvey and Humber, their ceiling is probably as a No. 4 starter. I could be wrong about this, but even if three of these guys reach their ceiling (which is unlikely), the Mets will still be getting a few seasons from the best pitcher of this generation in the midst of his prime. I’ll take it.

The only downside to this trade that I see is Rafael Santana having to relinquish the title of best Santana in Mets history. But hey, we all have to make sacrifices sometimes.

Being the dork that I am, I threw “Meet The Mets” on my iPod today as I left the office. And if you saw me walking across 34th Street, you saw me beaming ear to ear as I strutted to the Mets theme song and visualized a day in mid-May where I’ll be at Shea watching Santana on the hill as 50,000 orange-and-blue faithful rise to their feet every time the Venezuelan reaches two strikes on some helpless foe.

And when you think about it like that, it’s hard not to be ecstatic.

Graves Mistake

2008-01-27T11:52:00.000-08:00

I realize that launching a new blog with a post about a sport that no one south of St. Catherine Street really cares about could be a mistake. However, I started this blog to give myself a forum for whatever is on my mind (usually sports and random pop culture), and I'm hoping it will be a destination for all of you when you think you've run out of shit to read on the Internet.

Like much of the free world, I haven't cared much about the NHL for years. My interest has waned since the Rangers won the Stanly Cup 14 years ago, and I will readily admit that makes me a fair-weather fan. When it comes to hockey, I’m OK with that.

The bottom line is that I'm pretty out of the NHL loop. For example, I had no clue that the NHL All-Star game was this weekend. I work at sports magazine, and I wouldn't have known unless I stumbled across the skills competition Saturday night on "Versus." Once I realized I didn't know any of the players, I kept on the flipping.

That being said, I still have a soft spot for the Rangers. And now that I am back in New York after a three-year hiatus and armed with a 42-inch HD TV, I figured I would give hockey another shot. And what better way to re-connect with the Rangers glory years (year?) than watching Brian Leetch's number-retirement ceremony, which was on this past week.

Much like the Mark Messier ceremony from a few years back, it was way too long and self-aggrandizing. What should have taken no more than 25 minutes took 51. Leetch was a great player and a fine man, but we don't need to hear about it from every member of the 1994 Rangers.

That wasn't what really annoyed me though, because that is what these ceremonies have become. What stuck in my craw was the announcement that the Rangers would be retiring Adam Graves' No. 9 next year.

At the risk of sounding like an old-fashioned curmudgeon, what happened to the time when having your number retired meant something? Don't get me wrong, I loved the grind-out-style of Gravesy, but he finished his career with 329 goals. For some perspective, former teammate Steve Larmer finished his career with 441 goals, and you don't see No. 28 hanging anywhere except in Mama Larmer's closet.

On a side note, hockey players have a silly system for creating nicknames. My understanding is that if your name ends with a "y," it's gets shortened by a syllable. For example, Wayne Gretzky was "Gretz." On the flip side, every player whose name doesn't end with a "y" gets a "y" added on to create their new name. This means Brian Leetch is "Leetchy" and Adam Graves is "Gravesy." Stupidy.

Back to Graves and his sham of a number retirement. I've always liked the fact that my favorite teams are very selective when it comes to retiring numbers. The Mets have four retired, and the Rangers had just two (Eddie Giacomin and Rod Gilbert) until Messier and Mike Richter received the honor in the past couple of years.

Adam Graves just isn’t on that level.

I’m usually inclined to prove statements like that with some sort of statistical argument, but in this case I don’t feel as though it’s necessary. Graves was an excellent, but not great, player. And even though the fans loved him and he was active in the community, I can’t shake the feeling that seeing Graves’ number retired diminishes the honor.

The best argument in his favor is that he set the Rangers’ single-season record for goals in their Stanley Cup year, but that seems pretty flimsy.

Todd Hundley holds the Mets single-season home run record, and I’m pretty sure No. 9 is in no danger of being plastered on the walls of the Mets new stadium.