My Thoughts on Some Things That No One Asked Me About

Let’s see … Willie Randolph managed the Mets to a 2008 record of 34 wins and 35 losses. Jerry Manuel has 6 wins and 7 losses so far. Looks like the move was necessary so that they wouldn’t fall two games below .500…

While I realize I’m rather late to the party in reporting this, my Wimbledon prediction hasn’t changed since 2004 – Federer in straight sets over some other guy. That being said, some of my other predictions (which were also unreported) are coming to fruition. I believed that Mario Ancic would make a big step forward after missing a ton of time will illnesses and injuries. (C’mon … how can you root against someone who looks as much like Ralph Macchio as he does?) I also thought that Andy Murray would do well, even though he’s about to lose to Rafael Nadal. And, of course, I knew that Andy Roddick and James Blake would do their patented “get everyone in America excited about our chances at The Championships and then fizzle out quickly without putting up much of a fight” routine. Only they failed on the “get everyone in America excited” part.

On the women’s side, all the top seeds and major names are gone, save for the Williams sisters. So what does that mean? Every media outlet in the country is predicting an all-Williams final. While the odds of that are still slim, I guess I understand the sentiment. I, along with these “experts,” pine for the days when the three non-US tennis majors were a hot topic around the water cooler. (Disclaimer: I’ve only worked in an office for ten months, so any water-cooler talk predating 2007 did not include me. Furthermore, no one seems to talk around the water cooler anyway, so I don’t even understand how this term got started.) It has nothing to do with the level of play decreasing. In fact, just the opposite is true. Obviously it has to do mostly with the fact that there are no great American players. Sure, the aforementioned Williams sisters are super-talented, but they’re getting old for tennis and don’t play consistently anyway. Maybe it doesn’t even matter how popular the sport is … it’s just nice to know that everyone else cares as much about some things as you do. Tennis is one of those things for me. Egyptian hieroglyphics is another, but that’s a topic for a different day.

Did anyone else laugh really hard when the Knicks drafted an unknown foreign player? It was reminiscent of Kyle Brady’s introduction as a Jet. I guess Mike D’Antoni and company figured the only way to effectively clear up cap space within the next decade is to get a bunch of players who’ll work for free.

And just what exactly are the Nets doing? Richard Jefferson is a better player to build around than Vince “I’ll shoot 3 for 17 when my team needs me to play like the superstar I like to think that I am” Carter. I guess it’s partly due to the fact that Carter’s trade value is in the toilet because of his large contract and overwhelming level of suck. Still, they sure seem to have entered the 2010 LeBron James free agency sweepstakes a little early.

Lastly, I’d like to make it clear that the ever-rising price of gasoline doesn’t really affect me all that much. And by “doesn’t really affect me all that much,” I actually mean “is the worst thing that’s ever happened considering I commute 80 miles to and from work each day.” Had I anticipated this increase, I never would have splurged for that shiny circular object six months ago. My fiancée Kennedy says that I’m overacting and being childish. She might be onto something. Irregardless (which, Dear Readers, is not an actual word and should never, ever be used), I have decided that this fuel-frenzy will dictate my summer sport preferences. What mean I, you ask? Simple: the only sport that as far I can tell requires no gasoline (whether for travel or otherwise) is cycling. So my summer viewing will consist only of the Tour de France. My prediction? Some dude on ‘roids at three under par. (What do you mean “they don’t have par in bicycle races”?) And before you nail me with “what about swimming or track at the Olympics,” allow me to point out that not only are the Olympics sooooo 776 BCE, but they’re also an exhibition and therefore don’t count. Like an expired coupon or something…

Sorry, Willie, This Time It Tolls for Thee…

Do you think Tim Donaghy had the Celtics giving 40 points to the Lakers last night? If so, he lost.

Without mentioning that I correctly predicted the outcome of the NBA Finals, I’d like to comment on how it was easily the most uneventful championship series in recent memory. All that “Lakers/Celtics” hype turned out to be was a “tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing” … or something like that. The only competitive game was horribly played and all the other games were either blowouts in which the trailing team made a late comeback or … well … blowouts minus the comeback. That being said, it was nice to see Kevin Garnett with a trophy (even though his post-game interview was completely insane and chock full of butchered White Heat quotes … “Mom! Top of the world! Made it!”). Logically, the next order of business is deciding whether or not they can repeat next year. Of course it’s possible, but with the Eastern Conference improving (all of their playoff teams might even have winning records next year!), it’s hard to put them as the clear-cut favorites. But I’ll do it anyway.

I may get nailed for this one, but didn’t it seem convenient that Tiger Woods would only grimace when he knew someone was watching? How he would fall to the floor in agony and then jog briskly to the pin whenever the camera was pointed away for a moment? I know what you’re thinking: “But there are always cameras on Tiger so wouldn’t he have had to keep the charade up for the duration of the tournament?” The answer, Dear Readers, is “yes.” And keep it up he did. This tactic is reminiscent of when I would feign an ankle injury during an Ultimate Frisbee game and then explode toward the endzone at the most opportune moment. So congratulations, Eldrick. Not for winning another major, but rather for lulling your opponents (and the American people) into a false sense of security before going in for the kill. A “rope-a-dope” for the 21^st century.

If you were going to fire the manager of an underachieving team, which of the following seems like the more logical time to do it: A) after getting swept by the worst team in the National League or B) after taking three out of four games from competitive American League teams? Far be it from me to tell any general manager or owner how to run a professional baseball franchise. What I’ll suggest, however, is that saying Omar Minaya and the Wilpons mishandled this situation would be a gross understatement. It’s a comical mishap laughable enough to spark visions of Omar, Fred and Jeff all wearing roller blades and juggling a “Willie Doll” back and forth while that silly piano music from silent films plays in the background. In a way, it almost reminds me of the Yankees’ treatment of Joe Torre. To a lesser degree, maybe, but Torre was emasculated by the Steinbrenner Clan and now the act has been photocopied just a borough or two over. It looks very bad and might even be poor form, but the move had to be done. At the risk of perpetuating a cliché, they can’t fire 25 players, but they can dump a manager and a couple of coaches.

Speaking of coaches, how did Rick Peterson end up in the guillotine next to Randolph? So maybe his spiritual philosophy is a bit out there (tree-huggin’ hippie, much?) and the pitching staff has underperformed this year, but in the recent past, he’s made successes out of a bunch of “throw-in pitchers” (defined as pitchers received in trades in which they weren’t the focal player). I don’t have any stats on this (because that would require research), but the obvious ones are Oliver Perez and John Maine, who both had 15 wins last year. He also had a hand in squeezing every possible win out of Tom Glavine over the last few years and Mike Pelfrey has started to show progress. And he was partially responsible for the brilliant decision to send Scott Kazmir to Tampa Bay in exchange for Victor Zambrano. Okay, fine … that alone should have gotten him fired years ago. But maybe not yesterday…

And now I’ll turn my steely gaze upon those members in the Mets fan community who have proclaimed vociferously: “I am ashamed to be a Met fan today.” Really? Ashamed? Get a hold of your life, will you? If the actions of people whom you will never meet are capable of causing you “shame,” then there’s a serious problem. To give you a comparative personal example, when my fiancée Kennedy does something idiotic in public, I don’t say to her, “I’m ashamed to be engaged to you.” I may break out with one (or more) of the following: “Get away from me,” “you make me sick” or “I never want to see you again,” but “ashamed”? Never. Hyperbolic statements like the ones spewed yesterday make me (you ready?) ashamed to be a Mets fan.

Trophies Made of Clay Shatter Like October Fantasies

I can’t seem to shake the thought of Roger Clemens throwing a football through a tire swing as his wife longingly watches out my head and I don’t know why…

On the topic of lasting images, the only thing I will remember from Michael Strahan’s career is seeing him berate a female reporter while pieces of a hot dog fall from his mouth.

My Cs in 7 pick is looking better by the minute…

I know I’m going off the board on this one, Dear Readers, but I think it’s time for a little tennis analysis. Having seen each match in the Roger Federer / Rafael Nadal rivalry (something that I think is pretty cool but no one else seems to care about), I feel that I am qualified to comment on it. Simply put, Federer cannot beat Nadal on a clay court. For years, I’ve believed that if Federer would simply come to the net 30 to 40% of the time that he’d be in a great position to win. Federer finally took my advice last weekend and charged the net as often as he could. The result? A straight-set mopping at the hands of the Spaniard. This means that at the last four French Opens Federer has lost to Nadal. Tennis experts are saying that this is yet another clue signifying the end of Federer’s reign. And by “tennis experts,” of course, I actually mean “people who only watch four tournaments all year.” They might be right, but it’s too early to tell. He’s been ill most of the year and still got to the most important final on his weakest playing surface. Doesn’t that make him the second best clay-court player in the world? That’s nothing to be ashamed of, especially when you have the rotten luck of playing during the same era as the best clay-courter ever. Sampras stunk on clay and no one diminished him or his legacy. Federer is great on clay, but just hasn’t won the major that’ll prove it to everyone. Needless to say that Rog is my early Wimbledon favorite.

Official US Open Prediction: Adam Scott wins at -6. (Tiger will finish at +9.)

Jason “Shake Your Groove Thing” Taylor has about as much chance of playing for the Dolphins next year as I do of becoming the Czar of communist Russia. While I don’t like those odds, at least I’m giving him a puncher’s chance.

I’m not going to go crazy and say that New York will be without baseball this October. What I will say, however, is that the fields in Florida and Arizona will still be used this year long after The House That Ruth Built and Shea have closed their doors for good. I could ramble on endlessly about the roster problems that the Mets and Yankees both have. I could also comment on how large payrolls don’t necessarily mean large results, but that seems to be obvious at this point. What I’d like to say instead is that most teams and fans get caught up with things like talent and expectations and forget that all that really matters is what transpires between those slanted white lines. Sure the Mets are probably one of the most talented teams in the National League, but they don’t play like it. Look at how excited everyone was about the Mariners. How’re they doing this year? Not so good. Talent, you see, should never be confused with execution. Teams like the Diamondbacks, Marlins and Devil Rays (I refuse to acknowledge their sunnier new nickname) aren’t the most talented teams, but they’ve been playing as though they are. They take batting practice seriously. They stay involved in the game even when they’re on the bench. They hustle even when there’s no chance to beat out the throw. They play like winners and therefore, get this, they win. Maybe it’s a coaching thing. Maybe not. Maybe it’ll wear off by August and these teams will start to crumble. Maybe not. And maybe they’re just able to make the most of the talent they have. The point of this drivel isn’t to imply that cheaping out on payroll is the way to go (the Cubs and Red Sox have high payrolls and are also winning games). To be fair, there’s almost no point to this particular collection of my drivel (is there ever?).

In conclusion (a phrase that as a college freshmen I learned never to use), a fan must be able to remain objective about his or her team. My Mets and their cross-borough rivals are finished. At least one (if not both) of their managers will be fired. This isn’t written out of anger or despair, but rather with a clear head and an understanding of the facts before me. I’m not paid to be biased, folks. In fact, and I’ve said this before, I’m not paid at all.

Where Wildly Inaccurate Predictions Happen

While I have no idea what a “Kimbo Slice” is, hearing the term did remind me fondly of drinking Orange Slice as a child. I never cared for the grape flavor of the drink, however, and fear that I’m just too old to start trying the new “Kimbo” variety.

Joba Chamberlain’s career stats as a starter: 2.1 innings pitched, four walks, three strikeouts and a 3.86 ERA. So glad we didn’t over hype him or anything…

Official Belmont Stakes prediction: Big Brown in 6. (What do you mean ‘it’s not a best of 7’?”)

Far be it from me to brag, but I believe that my preseason prediction of Lakers vs. Celtics has been proven accurate. Okay, okay, you’ve got me… I actually picked the Bulls and the Suns, but at least I got the whole “both teams will have plural nicknames” angle correct. Give me points for that.

In a basketball season that was long on ridiculous trades and short on Eastern Conference excitement, we have a refreshingly new finals pairing. And by “refreshingly new,” I actually mean “distinctly familiar.” The latest installment of this classic battle has most NBA “traditionalists” foaming at the mouth at the prospect of ESPN broadcasting old-time Lakers/Celtics Finals games. While seeing short-shorts and scrawny athletes performing at a higher level than the buff ones currently do is a nice change of pace, “Lakers vs. Celtics” means nothing more to people my age than its status as being a video game. (Side Note: It was a great game and without question has been the basis for every basketball game that has come since. Play it today, however, and you might feel as old as your father sounds when he exclaims, “I had that on vinyl!”)

So, and I say this at the risk of sounding like an impetuous youth, the rivalry doesn’t have much “spice” to me. I was 3 years old when the last of these series was played. Add that to the fact that I can barely remember any sports rivalry older than Shaq vs. Kobe (which, if memory serves, was technically a Laker/Laker feud anyway) and I think it’s clear that the sports landscape has sort of passed this one by. Do I think it would be exciting if from this series a great rivalry were formed? Of course, but the colors of the jerseys do not solely a rivalry make. In the 90s, the Bulls and the Knicks were rivals but now no one in either city cares (except maybe Mike Breen … he seems to hold a grudge).

This series should be interesting because of the overwhelming number of storylines in involves: Can Kobe win without Shaq? Can Kevin Garnett finally win at all? Does Ray Allen actually “got game”? Will the years Paul Pierce spent in Celtic agony be cleansed? Is Rajon Rondo capable of performing at a championship level? Can Phil Jackson finally get his “one for the other thumb”? Will Sam Cassell actually hit a shot? Is Pau Gasol the luckiest player in NBA history? The answer to all of these questions is “yes” … or “no.” Whatever.

When asked yesterday who I thought would win, I was positive when I said, “Lakers in 6.” And while I still view that as a possibility, I’ve started to rethink this position. The Lakers are a very young team and will likely be playing at this level for the next five or six years. The Celtics, on the other hand, have a much smaller window of opportunity. Not only are the star players older, but they also had trouble negotiating through the Eastern Conference (which is only going to get better in the coming years). It donned on me that the sense of urgency and overall feeling of “the moment” might be enough to push Boston over the top. And home court is never to be taken lightly in a seven-game series.

Prediction: Celtics in 7. How’s that for a flip-flop?

Fighting an Upside Battle

Here’s why I wouldn’t fire Willie Randolph yet: What’s the rush? This is baseball, not football or basketball. The manager does less in this sport than any other and is therefore less likely to alter the course of events in a game. The hardest thing the manager does is fill out his lineup card every day. There are intricacies, sure, but almost every manager deals with them in the most tried and true fashion. A different manager isn’t going to heal Pedro’s hamstring or Ryan Church’s concussion or Moises Alou’s entire body or Carlos Delgado’s overwhelming level of suck. The old “change for change sake” plan won’t really help. That being said, if the Mets are more than five games under .500 at the All-Star break, then Willie should be dropped faster than you can say “115 million dollar payroll.”

If the rumors about Doug Collins returning to the NBA as the Bulls’ new coach are true, then the following two things are also true:

• He will now bore his players with mindless drivel instead of unsuspecting TNT viewers.
• It won’t be long before he’s in tears after winning a meaningless January game against one of his former teams (i.e. the Pistons or Wizards).

I heard a conversation this week about a Rangers sports star and I was surprised that Mark Messier was still being mentioned on talk radio this long after his retirement. It turns out they were actually speaking of Texas Rangers outfielder Josh Hamilton. Shows how little I pay attention to hockey or Texas baseball. This kid is allegedly the next Alex Rodriguez (you know, super talented, super arrogant and likely to get a super contract from the Rangers that will inflate player contracts for a decade before they ultimately trade him but still pay a large portion of his salary). Generally I don’t believe the hype on these guys, but if he wins the triple crown this year, I’d be impressed. Wouldn’t you? The guy’s a baseball player and he has the skill to win the three biggest horse races too? That’d be quite a feat.

Official French Open prediction: Roger Federer defeats Rafael Nadal in the finals to complete the coveted “Career Slam.” And then America yawns.

“Hey guys… first time, long time. Love the show. I was wondering what you think about packaging Giambi and Mussina together and sending them to the Diamondbacks for Brandon Webb and Conor Jackson. Thanks for taking my call… I’ll hang up and listen.”

On the topic of the Yankees’ pitching staff, let me just say that it’s very good. And by “very good,” I actually mean “terribly inconsistent.” But that sort of thing happens sometimes and there’s really no one to blame for it. Unless, of course, you have a blockbuster deal on the table to acquire the best pitcher in baseball for two unknown commodities and you pass it up. In that case, whoever passed on that deal is an idiot and completely to blame (Brian Cashman, I’m looking in your general direction here). When the Twins ask for Phil Hughes or Ian Kennedy (not to be confused with my fiancée Kennedy) in exchange for Johan Santana, you have to make that trade. And even though Santana has underperformed thus far in Queens, a frontline, Cy Young Award-winning starter is always the more logical choice over two pitchers whose only credentials are “they have upside.” You know what upside is? It’s a fancy word meaning “he might be a good player one day.”

Lots of things have “upsides.” In baseball, there was the Mets’ “Generation K,” which consisted of Jason Isringhausen, Bill Pulsipher and Paul Wilson. Only one of them amounted to anything at all and that was being a mediocre closer on a different team. The NBA is littered with draft picks full of upside. You know what those picks turn into? The dreaded “Draft Busts” (Sam Bowie anyone?). Ryan Leaf had upside once and so did the prospect of marriage before I got engaged. How have those things worked out? Not so good. Maybe Joba Chamberlain’s upside is true upside (the kind that actually peaks at some point). If that’s the case, imagine a starting rotation with Santana, Wang, Pettitte, Chamberlain and Mussina. With those five, the Yankees would’ve been guaranteed at least three 15-win pitchers. And that, Dear Readers, would mean a lot more Yankee wins. Or, at least, a few more since their bullpen is atrocious… but that’s an issue for another day.

Clairvoyance and the Wrath of You-Know-Who

Allow me to make something perfectly clear, Dear Readers: The only Yankee I want to hear talking about thongs is Derek Jeter describing the wardrobe of whichever “Sexiest Women Alive” he’s currently dating.

I’ll not gloat about my perfect second round NBA predictions (largely because I’ve been humbled by how badly I fared in the first round). That being said, I think it’s clear that I am or at least should be your one and only stop for continued clairvoyance. So for the Conference Finals, let’s go with the Lakers and Celtics both winning in 7 games. That was easy enough… and it saves me the trouble of typing a separate sentence for each series.

And I’ll bet Mick D’Antoni is thrilled that he chose to coach the Knicks instead of the Bulls right about now…

As you might have heard by now, Mike Piazza has officially retired from baseball. I won’t belittle him by observing that his talent retired two seasons ago. I’ll even resist the temptation to note that all 30 general managers in the Major Leagues (and a few in Japan, I’ll bet) passed on him this season. No… he deserves better than that. Very simply, Piazza is a first-ballot Hall of Famer (likely as a Met, but possibly as a Dodger) and arguably the greatest hitting catcher of all time. I’ll be proud to see number 31 displayed on the wall at CitiField.

A quandary for you: If a player hits a homerun and there isn’t an umpire around to see it, is it still a homerun?

Since this is shaping up to be a rather thin post, I’ll share some of my random brain candy with you. And by “thin” and “brain candy,” I actually mean “boring” and “ramblings,” respectively. Having long ago taken up the hobby of analyzing the English language, I often marvel at the level of verbal manure spewed during post game interviews. If you’ve never stopped to investigate some of the things that are said, here are a few of my favorites you can use at the water cooler tomorrow:

• “I just tried to stay within myself.” Meaning what, exactly? That you resisted the temptation to tear your skin off? To loose your soul from its Earthly constraints and allow it to flow freely throughout the arena? Maybe I’m being too literal, but I’m not even sure how this one even got started.
• “I gave it all I had out there.” Really? And yet you still had enough in the tank to break out the lamest interview cliché of all time. Congrats for that.
• “We’re just taking it one game at a time.” Hmmmmm… and here I thought that most players attempted to play every game simultaneously. This saying should follow Mike Piazza’s example and simply retire.
• “I didn’t try to do too much.” This is similar to the “within myself” line except the message here is to do just enough to get by, but never offer any additional effort.
• And my favorite (or most hated, depending on how you look at it): Any athlete who begins his answer by saying “first and foremost.” This may seem like an innocuous start, but my problem is that it’s usually followed by “I’d like to thank God.” Anytime an athlete thanks God, I say four things to myself (or out loud, if there’s an audience):

#1 - “So God’s an [insert winning team’s name here] fan.”

#2 - “I knew that pass interference call in the endzone seemed too divine to have been made by Ed Hochuli alone.”

#3 - “God must’ve bet the over.”

And #4 - “Oh God…”

Far be it from me to comment on anyone’s religious beliefs, buy there are places built specifically for this sort of overt worshipping. They’re known collectively as, get this, places of worship. Sporting events and nationally televised interviews are not the proper settings for discussing something as personal as one’s religious beliefs. (Here’s a side note while I’m at it: Stop mentioning God on the “Thank You” page of your CD booklet… it’s so 1992.) Furthermore, the concept that God is concerned with your game is a sign of arrogance, not devotion. Believe me when I tell you that God has bigger things than the fate of a sports team to worry about. Unless, of course, if you’re the Cubs. God hates the Cubs. 

Resolution to All Those Who Don’t Even Care

I am steadfastly sticking by my NBA predictions this time because there’s a chance that I may get all of them right (the winners, mind you, not necessarily the length of each series). And while I’m on the subject of the NBA, I’d like to congratulate Kobe Bryant on his MVP award, even though I’m on record as saying that I don’t particularly like him. (This belies the fact that I own a #8 Lakers jersey, which was coincidentally purchased at the same time as my Chris Paul jersey … both were discounted). I would have voted for Kevin Garnett or the aforementioned Paul, but not for the reasons you’re probably thinking. The Lakers were in the middle of the Western Conference pack until the Pau Gasol trade. It was then and only then that they jumped to the top of the standings. While Bryant is clearly the best player in the league, he wouldn’t have been on a number one seeded team without Gasol. To my way of thinking, this makes Gasol more valuable than Kobe and therefore is reason enough to believe that Bryant got the “well he’s the best player in the league and has never won one so let’s give it to him while we have a legitimate case” award. Just my thoughts … I’m willing to be wrong on this one (although clearly I’m not wrong). Still, a little part of me is glad that Bryant is going to win the NBA title this year and finally have jewelry independent of Shaq’s contributions. I’m starting to grow sick of Shaq’s “I love this team until I’m not on it anymore” routine. He’s becoming more inconsistent than the excuses I used during college … “Again, Chris? Just how many more grandmothers do you have?” So … not good for Shaq … and good for Kobe.

Tennis Update: Justine Henin has retired from professional tennis. While I’m sure that none of you have ever even heard of her, I’ll have you know that she is currently ranked number one in the world. Well, at least she was until about an hour ago (although technically I think she stays there until someone has enough points to pass her). You can now add her to the list of athletes who choose to retire at either the pinnacle of their careers or after a major accomplishment. This list includes Michael Jordan (twice), Barry Sanders, Lennox Lewis, John Elway, Jerome Bettis and others. Let me say once and for all that I completely agree with this philosophy of “going out on top.” And by “completely agree,” I actually mean “couldn’t possibly disagree more.” Maybe it’s my rather un-athletic background (I did, however, play a little JV volleyball in high school), but if I was a successful athlete and some dude was willing to pay me millions of dollars to keep doing it, you’d literally have to drag me out of the stadium and cut the jersey off of me. And then you’d have to tackle me before I ran out onto the field naked.

I’m sure I can speak for all of you, Dear Readers, when I say that I am scintillated by the continued coverage of SpyGate. Never before has closure been so open ended. For those of you unfamiliar with the story (and therefore not part of my demographic and shouldn’t even be reading this to begin with), apparently the Patriots went all American Beauty-voyeurish on their opponents. I understand that it’s against the rules, but I’m not really sure how much this footage would even matter. It’s pretty simple to dissect the irrelevance of the SpyGate tapes using “The Logic Factor.” First of all, every game is shot from thousands of angles and shown in millions of homes across the country, so it’s not like these scenes would be all that hard to acquire anyway. Secondly, filming coaches doesn’t guarantee victory. Even if these tapes did supply useful information, you’d still have to have coaches and players who are talented enough to figure it out and execute the plays. Hand those tapes to my Dolphins and they’d probably only improve to 3 and 13 (which, by the way, is an improvement I’d settle for in a heartbeat). And finally, have you seen the footage that was recovered? Seriously? It’s not as though this is the Zapruder film we’re watching. All you see is a bunch of overweight coaches flapping their arms around for seemingly no reason. It looks more like one of those NutriSystem commercials than something that could win you a Super Bowl (minus the miraculous “after pictures,” of course). Far be it from me to say that every team cheats in one-way or another, but pretty much every team in every sport in every country in the entire world cheats one-way or another, so why should a blip on the radar like this even matter? It doesn’t, and is no worse than stealing signs in baseball or pulling on an opponent’s jersey in basketball.

Once again, “The Logic Factor” (which I reference frequently) proves to be an excellent resource for wading through societies idiotic hang-ups. For the newbies to my concept, allow me to explain: “The Logic Factor” is essentially the same thing as “The O’Reilly Factor” … only with much less spin.

NBA Wishes and Desert Dreams

As I write this, I am sitting in front of a cactus tree desperately trying to sustain myself by drinking sweat from the bill of my cap. My fiancée Kennedy has been dragged away by a team of ferocious looking squirrels. I would’ve tried to stop them, but I don’t think I would’ve been much help. Oh well… she’ll turn up eventually… I guess…

I’m on vacation, Dear Readers, so you’ll have to forgive my delay in predictions, but please take my word that they have not been changed even though some series have already started (yeah right). Quickly: Pistons over the Magic in 6, Lakers trounce the Jazz in 5, Spurs beat the Hornets in 6 and I’ll take the Celtics in a sweep over the Cavs (because I’m crazy and can’t stand LeBron).

I went to a baseball game on Friday night, my first in the desert. The building looks great (especially considering this is its tenth anniversary) and watching the roof open before the game is really something to see. At one point, Mets hitting coach and 1986 benchwarmer Howard Johnson came running over to where we were standing and started talking to the guy next to us. I patiently waited for him to stop talking so I wouldn’t flash him in the face, but before I could snap a pic an usher told us we had to leave because we didn’t have tickets for that section. That was my brief moment with HoJo. So… not good…

My next post will be more exciting, I promise. Until then, I’ll leave you with a few stunningly silly quotes, courtesy of Kennedy (née Elizabeth):

· “Airplanes should have parachutes for everyone on board just in case something goes wrong.” “But we’re too high in the air… we’d never survive the fall.” “I’d make it.”

· “The second day of vacation is better because you know your way around the hotel.” And then she turned down the wrong hallway.

The Good, The Barry and The Clemensy (That Last One’s a Reach…)

The good news is that I’m right where I expected to be with my NBA playoff picks. Unfortunately, I expected to be somewhere in the middle of the ocean and nowhere near the correct predictions. In fact, the exact opposite of nearly everything I’ve said has occurred: the Spurs pounded the Suns in a yawner, the Cavs are about to dispense with the Wizards and someone found a key to my two Eastern Conference “locks.” It’s a good thing that the Rockets are still alive and the Nuggets stink so badly or else I’d lose all my street cred. (Side Note: I do not, nor have I ever, had any street cred. That being said, I’m correct just about as often as most of the “NBA Experts” on TV, so that’s something.)

While we’re chatting about the NBA, I had another enlightening conversation with my brother on the topic today (or at least as enlightening a conversation one can have with someone of such inferior intellect). We both agreed that David Stern would sell his children’s souls to ensure that the Finals will be the Lakers against either the Celtics or LeBrons. We also concurred that Spurs/Pistons would be a disaster on the same scale as my imminent wedding. So far, so good. And then, Dear Readers, he plunged off the deep end by saying: “Spurs/Celtics or Pistons/Lakers would also be good for business.” If by “good for business” he actually means “not be as bad for the NBA as the stock market was for Martha Stewart” then I’d agree. Somehow, though, I don’t think that’s what he meant. The Spurs and Pistons have zero stars. They have a bunch of great players, but not one of them is a star. Okay … they do have one, but Eva Longoria doesn’t really count. Kobe Bryant, LeBron James, Kevin Garnett and even players like Dwight Howard have enough star power to make any series viable. Maybe it’s not fair, but stars aren’t always the best players on the court (see Dennis Rodman for proof of this). They are, however, always the players that America wants to see. Far be it from me to say that my brother has lost touch with reality, but clearly his capacity is at the very least slightly diminished.

I’ll admit that I grin from ear to ear every time one of these Yankees goes down with a “pulled this” or a “strained that.” Makes me happy. And I’d also like to take this opportunity to thank Barry Zito for scoffing at the Mets offer of 75 million dollars a few years ago. That’s money we eventually used to get Johan, so big ups to Barry. (Although I’d still trade Aaron Heilman for him in a heartbeat).

At the risk of piling on, let me just say that Roger Clemens makes me sick. Not because he betrayed the trust of his HGH-molded wife, embarrassed his Astro-kids or is generally an unsavory character. That stuff doesn’t really bother me. And I’m not even gonna touch the “15 year-old statutory” aspect of this story. Here’s what really bugs me: Have any of you ever listened to country music? It’s atrocious. Couldn’t he have landed a cute punk rock chick? Or a female sports analyst? (Oh, Bonnie Bernstein, how I misséd thee…) Or even one of those cult women who dress as though they live in the 1800s? He went country? If you’re going to cheat, at least go about it properly and make sure your “side woman” is of higher stature than your wife. For example, I used to date a girl who worked at the Gap. If I had decided to cheat on her, I wouldn’t have shopped at Kohl’s. I’d probably give Hollister a whirl and then try Abercrombie. And talk about feeding into a cliché … country record producers are already hard at work on songs like “The Pitcher Who Stole My Pick-Up and Then My Heart” and “That Ball Player Sure is a Player.” Guess that whole “family man” angle he was trying to pull off isn’t going to work at this point. And maybe it’s not entirely his fault … I suppose it’s possible he just misremembers even having this affair to begin with.

Visit Beautiful McCarverville … Where Women Race Cars and Joe Morgan is Always Welcome

I’m glad that the Dolphins are drafting a great offensive lineman with the number one overall pick. Now all they need is 51 other good players to go along with him and Jason “Dance Like There’s No Tomorrow” Taylor.

Should Joba Chamberlain be a starter? Do Giants’ fans have a right to feed Barry Zito to a pack of wild dogs? Did my mother cry the night Chicago died? The answer to all three of these questions is “probably so,” but let’s see what develops in the coming weeks. The Yankees’ young starters have plenty of time to turn the corner and the Giants … well the Giants are already in the toilet, so no rush there. (In the case of Chicago’s passing, my mother flatly denies any emotional reaction. Still, I’m pretty sure I saw her cry, if only briefly.)

I’m going off the map on this next one, Dear Readers … Danica Patrick has apparently become the first woman to ever win an open-wheel race. This came as a surprise to me. Not the fact that no other woman has ever won one of these things before, but rather that Danica Patrick drives cars for a living. I had only ever known her as part of the “Got Milk” ad campaign. It’s not every day that auto racing makes it into one of my posts, so good for her. Her name also sounds like a brand of yogurt, so double good for her. Now please go back into obscurity where you belong, Danica. And do it quietly.

Here’s me as a crazed Mike and the Maddog caller: “Hey, fellas, first time, long time. I’ll just say one thing then I’ll hang up and listen. Would you sign Frank Thomas to play first and then trade Delgado and Alou for Brandon Webb? Think the Diamondbacks would go for that? Thanks, guys, love the show.” (Side Note: Is anyone else getting tired of Delgado’s “swing and a miss” routine? The breeze in Queens is awfully gusty when he’s up…)

On Sunday night, Joe Morgan (or “Hall of Famer Joe Morgan” as everyone at ESPN is contractually obligated to call him) made a couple of highly intelligent comments that I’d like to dissect. And by “highly intelligent” and “dissect,” I actually mean “completely inane” and “mock,” respectively. He started off by saying that adding 100 points to a pitcher’s batting average will give an accurate representation of how good a hitter he is. Really? What equation did he use to come up with this? Can it be applied to the homerun totals of second basemen when compared to designated hitters? And when determining errors, should we take into account the fact that first base is more difficult as a righty than it is as a lefty? Far be it from me to suggest that the phrase “good-hitting pitcher” is an oxymoron, but what I will say is that anytime an announcer has to qualify a pitcher’s hitting credentials with a fictional formula, the guy simply has a poor batting average. Furthermore, and this is what is truly puzzling, who cares? If a batter from any position is hitting .210, it means that 80% of the time he doesn’t get a hit. The opposing pitcher doesn’t say to himself: “Gee, Joe Morgan says this guy is hitting .310, so I’d better be careful.” What he actually says is: “Good thing this chump is up; it should be an easy out.”

Morgan followed up his batting average analysis with the claim that hitting and fielding require the same set of skills … “except, obviously, for range.” Again … really? Isn’t range sort of a big deal? Can’t all major leaguers pretty much throw and catch with similar success, thus making range the defining quality of a fielder? Is not range the reason that Cecil and son aren’t shortstops and why Jose Reyes would be wasted at first base? To my way of thinking, this statement is comparable to the following: “Swimming requires the same set of skills as pole vaulting … except the surfaces are different and one involves a long stick used to launch oneself over a smaller stick ten feet in the air.”

Congrats, Joe, you’re now two steps closer to McCarverville, where the motto is “That pitch wasn’t up and in, it was up and up!”