Et tu Sweet Lou?

I don’t really have a great deal to talk about today since I’ve been knee deep in financial statements (and, unfortunately, copier toner) for most of the early part of the day. I’m far less bitter than I’d normally be in a situation like this since I’m taking a half day off tomorrow followed by a full day off on Monday for my birthday. It’s not like I’m going out of town or anything. I just refuse to work on my birthday…that’s how I roll.

Of course, my major concern this afternoon has nothing to do with work (other than the fact that I’ll be watching the game at work) and everything to do with Game 2 of the Cardinals-Padres Division Series. To say that the way the Cards’ bullpen folded on Monday was troublesome would be a major understatement. If the bullpen can’t get it together in a laugher against the Padres then what are they going to do in a one run game against the Astros? You can go ahead and add an increasingly shaky bullpen to my growing list of concerns for this postseason. That is, if you’re actually keeping track of my concerns. By the way, if you are in fact keeping track of my concerns then you’re one of the more pathetic people I’ve ever run across…and believe me, that list is long and distinguished.

Speaking of long and distinguished, today’s post will be neither. Instead I’ll supply you with a collection of random thoughts that have accumulated in my head over the past couple of days. Enjoy yourselves:

- I’m sure that we’re all in mourning over the breakup of Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson. I don’t want to be insensitive, but I’ve got a few questions/thoughts on the situation. First, does he get half of her money in the divorce or will she get half of all the sleeveless t-shirts that he owns? Do you think that Matt Leinart will even take Nick’s phone calls at this point? I mean, Lachey is clearly not cool enough to hang with Leinart anymore. I’m thinking the best he can do now is an invite to Pete Carroll’s weekly poker game with Norman Chad and Scott Baio.

- If anybody is wondering how to reach me this Sunday afternoon, I’ll be sitting on my couch watching the Bucs’s defense tear Vinny Testaverde limb from limb. This scenario really couldn’t have worked out any better for Bucs fans. Not only do we not have to face (what appeared to be) one of the more formidable opponents on our schedule this year, but now we get one last shot at the man who single handedly ruined an entire decade of football for us. If you weren’t a Bucs fan in the late eighties and early nineties then I can’t adequately explain the deep-seeded hatred in my heart for Vinny. There isn’t a single athlete who caused me more pain and heartache in my youth than Mr. Testaverde. I obviously want the Bucs to win. However, if I was forced to choose between a victory and watching Vinny lay motionless (or, even better, twitching) on the turf of the Meadowlands come Sunday…well, I think you know what I would choose.

- I hope the good people of New England enjoyed their World Series Championship because you’re about to be waist deep in Celtics training camp reports. Tony Graffanino’s error last night (and its subsequent results) was exactly the kind of play that you always expected to see the Sox make at one point or another in the postseason. The only difference now is that there is no bullshit curse to blame these sort of things on. Your team isn’t good enough, not even close, so deal with it and shut your mouths. The rest of the country is tired of hearing about you, your city and your beloved Sox.

- I’ll be the first to admit that I am not intimately aware of Jesus’ own personal likes and dislikes ( I believe he frowns on adultery). However, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that he’s probably not a huge fan of having his name plastered all over cheesy license plates and cheap bumper stickers. It’s a little beneath him, don’t you think?


- I know the NBA is a few weeks away but I thought I’d touch on the Magic real quickly. Not only is their first round draft pick gearing up for the upcoming Spanish League season but they currently boast a roster with four point guards. You read that correctly…four of them. Two of these guys were acquired in the off-season. Some people might be thinking that the Magic did this in anticipation of Steve Francis’ move to the two. That would be great if it weren’t for the reports that have Francis running the point during informal team scrimmages. Awesome. Why don’t the Magic go ahead and sign Andre Barrett so they can really confuse teams with the NBA’s first all 6’3” and under lineup?

- Was anybody else surprised to hear that Alge Crumpler’s brother and father both played in the NFL? How has that not been a segment on NFL Gameday by now? If you didn’t know, Alge is short for Algenon. Do you know what the name of Alge’s brother is? Carlister…I wish I could make stuff like this up.


- I hate the Atlanta Braves. If you hadn’t noticed I harbor an inordinate amount of ill will towards an exceedingly large numbers of sports teams (both college and pro). I assure you I have my reasons for each and every one of them. When it comes to the Braves, it is not so much the team I despise as much as it is their awful bandwagon jumping fans. Growing up in Florida during the Dale Murphy-Bob Horner Era you could go for months during the summer without seeing (or hearing) a Braves fan. There were no bumper stickers, no hats, no nothing, other than nightly broadcasts of Braves games on TBS. Of course, when the Braves began their unprecedented run of success, a million and one Braves fans appeared out of thin air. Whenever you asked one why they liked the Braves the response was invariably, “I grew up in the south and watched them on TBS all the time.” Sure asshole…can I see your powder blue Braves hat? That’s what I thought.

Why do I bring this up? Because I am being forced to root for the Braves this week in hopes of attending my first ever Major League Playoff game. My old co-worker Calvin works for the Danville Braves (Atlanta’s Rookie League team) and gets tickets to all of Atlanta’s home playoff games. He recently emailed me to say that he’d have an extra ticket for me if the Cardinals were to play in Atlanta during next week’s NLCS. Obviously this persuaded me to root for the Braves yesterday, well that and the fact that the Astros scare the bejesus out of me. Predictably, the Braves lost…at home…in heartbreaking fashion. Have I mentioned that I hate the Braves?


- All of the storylines on Nip/Tuck over the past year or so, Tuesday night’s had to be (by far) the most unrealistic yet. There is absolutely no chance that a stiff like McNamara would ever attend a college frat party, much less end up getting head from a moderately hot chick on the couch of some frat boy’s room. Listen to me here, despite my disdain for the Greek system I have attended a number of frat parties at a number of different colleges (Florida, Florida State, North Carolina, even the venerable College of William & Mary) and there is no way that this scenario would have ever come close to playing out in the manner in which it was portrayed on Nip/Tuck. Even the sluttiest girls I’ve ever met (and I’ve met some first ballot Hall of Famers) would think a man over the age of forty attending a frat party is about the creepiest thing that they could possibly imagine and would steer clear of this guy like AC Green avoids champagne rooms. Just for the record, I would like to go on believing that the “bracelet party” theme is alive and kicking on college campuses across this fine nation of ours. Seriously, just let me have this…okay.

- My fantasy baseball season came to a merciful end this past week. I avoided finishing in dead last. I finished second to last, thank you very much! That wasn't very surprising seeing as I'd been firmly entrenched in the bottom third of the league since (literally) opening day. What was surprising is that I ended up leading the league in ERA and WHIP. I'm like the Leo Mazzone of fantasy baseball.

- I might be the only person who feels this way, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what people find attractive about Melinda from Real World: Austin. Forget for a minute that she’s easily the wettest blanket since the girl with the big jugs from Real World: Hawaii. Even without that, she’s still wholly unattractive to me. At first glance you think that she’s hot, but upon further inspection it becomes clear (to me at least) that she’s nothing more than bunch of mismatched parts. She’s like some living, breathing Mr. Potato Head that was put together by my 4 year old niece.

- Is it just me or did Jim Leyland's hiring by the Tigers seem like one of the shadiest things we've seen go down in quite some time? The man was hired by his former boss (Dave Dombrowski) less than a day after former manager and Tiger legend Alan Trammel got the boot. That must have been one thorough hiring process that the Detroit front office conducted? Leyland has probably been under contract for a month already. Nobody really cares because it's the Tigers but the entire thing reeks of back office manuevering and managerial misconduct. To be perfectly honest, it's my own personal hope that Lou Whitaker was the Brutus to Trammel's Caesar in this scenario.

-Finally, I know that I just minked to my buddy John's blog last week but it is in your best interest to read a post fromt his week entitled "The Legend of Drunk Mike". You'll laugh, you'll cry, it's quite possible you'll wretch. Have a good night.