Baseball Woodstock

They call me Greazy... I'm the stylish one of the group. I know what you're asking your self and the answer is yes. I do have a nickname for my best friend and it's XL. But, I also have a nickname for my wife, Inky, and if you play you're cards wright you just might meet the whole gang.

After taking in another Baysox vs B-Mets game on Friday night, XL and hit the sack with dream of baseballs and the Twins dancing in our heads. Saturday morning we woke up at the crack of 9:30 and headed out for Cooperstown. We stopped at a place called Brooks House of BBQ along the way and had one hell of a lunch. Upon leaving Brooks, we were full of both various animal flesh, and excitement for the coming days. We hit Cooperstown and watched a few innings of the New York-Penn league game at Doubleday field. It featured The Oneonta Tigers and the O's affiliate, The Aberdeen IronBirds. We saw a few homeruns and the pitcher for the IronBirds almost died when he was hit by a line drive. That's baseball for you.

We walked around Main St. and wandered through the shops again. This is when we made a fateful error. We planted ourselves down in chairs right across from the front gate of the Hall. It was 5:30, and the event we were waiting for didn't start until 7:30. It was the "red carpet arrival" of the past Hall of Famers, and boy was it lame. We waited on that street corner suffering stupid comments from those around us, not to mention the chick who was talking on her cel phone like she was a DJ at a dance club. All we were rewarded with for our trouble was a tiny brass band, some really lame trivia, and a few douche bags reciting Casey at the Bat. Once the players did arrive it was Vida Blue out... oh wait that's black pitcher... I mean it was pitch black out. We could hardly see them by the tiny lights the Hall had set up, and many of them made a b-line from the van to to the door. Only Wade Boggs walked around and talked to people.

Once Cal and his posse arrived XL and I bolted for our car. What were we in such a hurry for you ask. Well we had to get to our camp ground. This was out second mistake. We thought we would have a better shot at getting to the induction early if we were staying near Cooperstown, which is true, but there were no Hotels left this time last year let alone when we booked in November. So camping it was.

We got to the campground and took showers in the most disgusting showers I've ever seen. I scared the shit out of some poor guy who I miss took for XL, but that's another story for another time. After our showers we hopped back in our car and headed back into downtown Cooperstown for a night of little sleep and vagrancy.

As we slept in the parking lot of the Cooperstown Agway we soon realized that it was going to be a long day on Sunday. We were right. We walked down to the Clark Center at 6 and were among the first 100 people there. Once we annexed a spot for our chairs we set about the work of shitting and eating, two staples of our trip. It was amazing to see the field fill up with such a large mass of humanity. We took to calling it "Baseball Woodstock" since we were all gathered in a large field in Up State New York for some thing we loved. XL finished the Harry Potter book and I got a sun burn, but in the end it was all worth it. At 1:30 (shortly after the Merchandise tent closed by the way) The ceremonies commenced. Luckily for us they decided to mix it up due to some impending weather issues and let Tony and Cal go first, making the radio guy and the newspaper guy wait.

Tony gave a great speech, mostly off the cuff, and my esteem for him has only grown during this trip. Cal was a bit more prepared (duh) but still gave a great speech, save for the kinda gay/kinda sweet thing he did with the white rose. It was the culmination of a long time following the Iron Man and I was proud to be an O's fan. That statement may not be true again for along time. Now we're back home and getting ready to go back to our jobs. Damn it!

For a full review of all the tasty vittles we had on our journey click on over to TGWOOfY.

3 Days on the Road and I'm not Gonna Make it Home Til Monday...

Instead of from my normal writing place on my crapper I sit tonight in the lobby of the Comfort Inn in Binghamton NY with my good friend Greazy. It is very rare that we get to write at the same time sitting right next to each other. As you have seen from Greazy's post we are on the road to see Cal get inducted and have had many detours already. My task is to recap the day today so here goes:

Greazy and I awoke around 8am today to hit the road to Cooperstown to check out the lay of the land and get a feel for the insanity we would be up against on Sunday. We thought today would be more subdued being as it's only Friday and a lot of people from the Mid Atlantic region are coming via a bus trip and likely won't be in the area until tomorrow. We couldn't have been more wrong...as soon as we made the turn on Main St in Cooperstown we hit a wall of traffic both cars and pedestrians. After about 20 minutes of driving around we found people selling parking for all three days for a total of $50. Being as are options were pretty much limited we figured we were getting a good value considering the Hall has already planned two $50 lots just for Sunday. After about a half mile walk we reached the cusp of Main St with the infamous Bakery on the corner (home of a delicious black & white cookie).

Greazy and I have been to the Hall more than half a dozen times so we really don't need to spend lots of time in the actual museum. It is the vendors and shops that we come for. We parused several of them before hitting up the only (and outstanding) Pizzeria in Cooperstown. We got there around 11am to eat so as to avoid the rush and we made the right call. We each had 3 pretty good size slices of pie that I'm sure Greazy will post pics of later. While the food is delicious the choice of music played on the juke box left a lot to be desired. We started with the Rap classic Ridin Dirty and then went into Fergy's smash hit Fergilicious at which point I thought the guy behind the counter would evict the guest that selected such a song. Surely the only reason for a song like that is for profiling panzies and wannabes but alas I was wrong. Finally the third selection of Brittney Spears I'm not that Innocent came on and I slammed my last piece of pizza on the table and made to leave. Greazy had to hold me back to finish lunch.

We moved on to the actual hall and walked through quickly to get video footage we have lacked for the last 4 years. We also took time out to relieve ourselves as the Hall has outstanding facilities. We then proceeded back down Main Street to check out more of the local flavor. All in all there are like 10 Orioles fans to every 1 Tony Gwynn fan. Greazy even wore the Padres R. Burgundy jersey to show his support. The feel of the town is festive and there are people out there still in lawn chairs waiting to purchase an official induction bat for $150 that doesn't go on sale until tomorrow at 7am. A little crazy for my taste but to each their own I guess. We decided to call it a day around 1 in Cooperstown being as we will be spending the night there tomorrow. It is worth mentioning that while in Cooperstown we found a Chinese restaurant called Foo Kin Chinese food which we found hilarious.

On the hour drive back to Binghamton Greazy and I happened upon an accident where a tractor trailer had to have come from the other side of the road through the median and onto the other side. Fortunately he didn't hit any other vehicles however he did this on a bend and there was no indication that there was a problem. As we approached the curve we saw a NY state trooper pulled over in the left lane with his lights on but no one pulled over. Then around the bend is the accident with a rent a cop waving at us to slow down. Having no idea what was ahead we slowed down but apparently not quickly enough. As we came to a stop one of the other rent a cops came over to the window to yell at Greazy for not slowing down quickly enough. Greazy having none of the guys attitude argued back and we were allowed to proceed rather quickly by the accident.

Once back in Binghamton we decided to see the Simpsons Movie which was genius. Even though we were the only ones laughing at most of the jokes it was hilarious. I highly recommend and will not spoil it further. After the movie we discovered possibly the most delicious sandwich we have ever tasted. It's called a Speidie and apparently was invented in Binghamton. It is pretty much marinated cubed meat on a sub roll but it is delicious. We are actually now looking to go to the founding restaurant which is right around the corner and have another one. Tomorrow should be a great day in Cooperstown and we will get to see the Ironbirds play at Double Day park. We would've seen a game tonight but it has rained since about 1pm this afternoon. Hopefully that will be the end of the bad weather for the rest of the week.

That's all for now look for our posting post induction!!!!!!

Greazy Tony, Live From the Road

Greazy, here... XL and I left York yesterday at about 3, and beet a path north toward Western New York. Along the way we stopped at Skeeters BBQ, where Inky and I ate a few weeks back. With the aid of Karen, My Aussie voiced GPS unit, we discovered that we weren't too far from Rochester New York, the home of the AAA Red Wings. So we reprogrammed Karen to take us toward Rochester and took in a few innings of a game there.

It's a nice park, and the food and drink options are tremendous. (Note, when I get back to HQ I'll be adding pictures to all of these posts.) We had a white-hot and a Red-hot for dinner, of which we both agree the red-hot is far superior. The Wings used to be the O's AAA affiliate so most of their Hall of famers are one time Orioles including a certain third baseman...no not Cal Ripken (who is honored both in the Red Wings Hall and with his own separate monument) but Jeff Manto who once played the hot corner for the O's as well. He was a scrub, but a hard nosed, hard working scrub and I always liked him. He also once homered in 4 straight at bats.

From Rochester we headed west to Buffalo where we checked into a hotel room in Niagara Falls. (I don't want to sound like a queer or nothing, but the Falls are very romantic.) XL and I got up and at it early today and hoofed it into Canada. We walked down to the maid of the mist and took our ride out to the falls. I think XL was a bit caught up in the moment because he kept 'bumping into me.'
After our morning at the falls we stopped on over at Ted's Red Hots and had us some lunch, more meat. Then we spent the afternoon in downtown Buffalo at Dunn Tire Park. The Hometown Bia-son (that's how the PA announcer said it.) were taking on the Charlotte Knights. As it turned out, Bia-son left fielder, Trent Durrington hails from my favorite country: Australia. And I was wearing my world baseball classic Australia Jersey. Before the start of the 4th inning I called out bit support for Trent, and he took notice of my Jersey.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked. I told him, and the inning commenced. After the first pitch, I heard a loud whistle coming from Left Field. "Who's name is on the back of that" Trent asked. "Mine" is said, to which he replied "Cause that's my number." Who knew Trent Durrington was #7, I got it because the Aussie Star has 7 points. My number is 5, the same as Cal Ripken wore in Rochester. Oh and speaking of third basemen, Jeff Manto's number is also retired by the Bia-son. As Durrington and I were wrapping up our conversation, held at a thousand paces, we both heard the crack of the bat. Looking up I saw the ball screaming toward Left Center. Trent heard it too, but luckily so did the Center Fielder who cut in front of him to make the catch.

Sounds like a lot for one day doesn't it? Well we were far from done. After we finished up at the Buffalo game we high tailed it down here to Binghamton where we caught a game between The home town B-Mets and the Bowie Baysox, the AA affiliate of the Baltimore Orioles. The team Cal Ripken and Jeff Manto played for. Maybe you've heard of them.

While at the game I discovered that there are some really foul smelling people in Binghamton. I also discovered that when presented with the opportunity to buy two beers for the price of one, XL will do so. And since I don't drink anymore, he also took one for the team and drank both of them... twice. Four big ole beers later XL was feeling good'a and we were ready to check into the hotel. And that's where we are now. That was one long day!

And we still have two Aberdeen Iron Birds games to go, one in Oneonta and one in Cooperstown. The Ironbirds, you may know, are owned by Cal Ripken, who is going to be in Cooperstown on Sunday for his Hall of fame Induction. Jeff Manto wont be there, but XL and I will.

On the Road

I'll be hitting the road with XL tonight to trek through the wilds of Up State New York. We'll go from Buffalo in the far west to Cooperstown in the center of the state on a trip that will celebrate baseball. We'll brave a car filled with flatulence not to mention the other 100,000 people who are expected to make the trip around us. In the end, however, Cal Ripken Jr. is worth it. So is Tony Gwynn for that matter. These are two guys who really knew how to play the game, and it will be an honor to see them enshrined in the Hall of Fame on Sunday. We have a lot of other ideas of how we're going to fill our time on Thursday, Friday and Saturday and if our hotel has a computer we'll be posting about our trip here and on TGWOOfY.

Hey Parents - Heads Up.

A modest proposal by Greazy Tony:

I love baseball. I don't like kids. That can be a bit of a problem if you want to watch a game live at a stadium. People have this nasty habit of bringing their stupid offspring with them to places that they don't rightly belong. I'm speaking of places like: Rated R movies, Nice Restaurants, and The expensive seats at a ball park. Of course I'm also a curmudgeonly old man who doesn't like much so I may be overreacting.

In the end, however, parents are always looking for ways to keep their kids safe. I would suggest that a Rated R movie is no place for a little'un because it may make them violent or potty mouthed. The expensive restaurant only teaches them poor fiscal planning (since spending $18 on an entree for a kid is just plain wasteful, and they rarely have lunchables) and stifles their creativity (since they don't get crayons to draw on the place mat.) Theses are not dangers that could kill little Tommy or Susie. (Oh wait it's 2007, those names should be updated to Hunter and Montana used interchangeably for boys and girls.)

What can kill a child, or a 35 year old man, is a line drive off the bat of a pro baseball player. Sadly, Mike Coolbaugh was killed on Sunday by a ball off the bat of his team's catcher. Coolbaugh, who was a ball player him self until becoming a coach, just didn't have time to protect himself and was struck in the head, falling to the ground instantly. He was a third baseman, so he knew a bit about quick reaction time and hard hit balls. You know the old disclaimer - don't try this at home - well at the ball park it should just be: don't try this.

And so it is for the safety of the children, not because I can't stand to listen to them or have them kick my seat at a game, that I ask you to not sit with your kids in the good seats. Leave them to me, and others like me. If we get hit with a screaming line drive it is because we put ourselves there, and besides, some of us bring gloves to the game. There are plenty of seats in the upper deck and in the bleachers for those of you with offspring to guard over.

Hey Padraig... Nice Jugs

Carnoustie Scotland - "They invented the game there. Except they call it Gof, without the L." - Judge Smails.

Pennsylvania, USA - "Hey Sergio, Choke town. Population you bro" - Greazy Tony

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Somewhere in France - " See! It's not just me." Jean Van de Velde.

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Padraig Harrington, cousin to one loser in Joey of the NFL and one loser in Dan of the WSoP, had one foot in each realm today at Car-nasty. Luckily for him, he was up against a guy who's just as bad at finishing as Big Wayne. (inside joke for XL and Inky)

Harrington had a Van de Velde like meltdown on the 72nd hole at Carnoustie, and left the door wide open for Garcia to win it with a medium length put. But, el Nino lipped the put out and they went to a playoff. In the playoff Harrington birdied #1 while Garcia carded a bogey. They were even on #16 and #17 and so it came down to 18 again. Garcia rolled his bird bid right over the hole and Harrington kicked in from 4 feet to card a 5 and win The Open. Or, maybe he kicked in from 4 feet to card a 5 and not lose The Open.

Either way, he'll be making sweet-sweet love to the jello filled Claret Jug tonight. Garcia is one step closer to changing his name to Phil and swinging left handed.

Was'up Dog?

I'm not breaking any new news here, but Michael Vick is a dick hole. Any person who would risk such a high paying career so he can get his rocks off with dog fights is a crusty, syphilis infected dick hole. Let me get one thing perfectly straight here, I'm no animal lover. I think people who bring animals into their houses are straight-up crazy, because... they don't really love you people. They are incapable of love, and that is a scientific fact! (said like Champ Kind)

Even though I think people who buy clothes for their dogs are dumber than dirt, it doesn't follow that I think dogs should be tortured. As far as I'm concerned you can kill any animal you want, but like mom used to say: don't play with your prey. That's why it made me so mad to hear Joe Horn on ESPN radio today all but equating the killing of a losing dog to hunting. I'm pretty sure Ron Mexico wasn't eating the dogs after he executed them. And I'm sure there was also very little sport in their deaths. If some guy wants to douse himself with deer piss and sit in a tree, drinking Natural Lite, while shooting a deer, I'm OK with that. It's not my cup of tea, but it seems to be within the confines of good taste.

What Vick is accused of doing is most certainly not. The images conjured of torture, killing and the fighting itself is enough to make even a non-Peta person mad. There is no way Michael Vick should be allowed to take the Field for this upcoming season (bet the falcons wish they had Matt Shaub now huh) and if convicted he should never play again. And to make matters worse, his actions have made him the Stiff of the Week for this and every week until an appropriate punishment is handed down. That punishment is of course: Being put in a cage with 45 half starved dogs.

Playoffs? Playoffs!

Wouldn't it have been great it if the Colts had defeated the Bears for the right to play the Patriots in the Superbowl last year, instead of visa versa? Can't happen you say? Sure it can, and all we need to do is update the NFL playoffs to insure we get the best possible game each year. The need for this is evident in all sports, based on a discrepancies in talent on one side of the leagues. In the NBA the best talent is in the West, and in Baseball popular opinion says it's in the AL, even thought the lowly Cardinals won the Series last year. In the NFL, it has become apparent that the best teams are in the AFC over the last few years, just as it had once been in the NFC back in the 80's and first half of the 90's.

In order to combat this uneven distribution which results in skewed records in the weaker conferences (you can't tell me the Bears at 13-3 were a game better then the Patriots who were 12-4) and in often unwatchable title games (again the 15-3 Bears vs the 15-4 Colts). This is solved by getting rid of division play as it relates to the playoffs. All 32 teams will comprise one pool, from which the playoff teams are determined. That, naturally begs the question of scheduling, as in who plays who.

First we would get rid of two preseason games and make the season 18 games long. The teams would be divided into 4 tiers based on the previous season's record. Tier 1 is the 8 teams with the best record the previous year, Tier 2 is the next 8 and so on. Tier 1 teams schedule would be made up of: 1) Seven games against the other Tier 1 teams, 2) Eight games against the Tier 4 teams and 3) Three games against traditional/regional rivals for a total of 18 games. A Tier 2 team's schedule would be: 1) Seven games against the other Tier 2 teams, 2) Eight games against the Tier 3 teams, and 3) Three games against traditional/regional Rivals. With the reverse being true for Tiers 3 and 4.

So if the Redskins are a a Tier 1 team (Ha ha ha ha) they would play the other 7 Tier one teams, the 8 worst teams in the league and a game against Dallas, New York and Philadelphia. If one of those teams is in Tier 1 or 4 then they would play twice, home and home.

After the 18 game regular season, the teams with the 8 best records would qualify for the playoffs. Right now 12 teams (37.5% of the league) make the playoffs and there are 11 total games. Under my plan, 8 teams (25% of the league) make the playoffs and there are only two less games, with 9.

This is what the current NFL Playoff tree looks like. More and more it seems that 8-8 teams are getting in, and rarely do they move on. The top 4 teams in the League get a buy in week one meaning that they can go two or three weeks with out a meaningful game. Plus, the first week of the playoffs has none of the best teams in the league playing.

In my plan (which is just like the McIntyre system used in Aussie Rules) the 4 best teams in the league not only play in the first week of the playoffs, but also must be beaten twice before exiting, which allows for playoff rematches, and takes a great team off the hook for a poor performance. In week one the games are as such: #1 vs #4, #2 vs #3, #5 vs #8 and #6 vs #7. The winners of the 1v4 and 2v3 games earn a week off, while the losers earn a second chance. They face off against the winners of the 5v8 and 6v7 games, who's losers are eliminated. If the rankings held to form #1 and #2 would win and move on, while #3 would meet #6 and #4 would take on #5. The winners of these games are crossed to the other side of the bracket to push possible rematches to the title game. So in the scenario in the graph above (click to see larger), the Colts take the Chargers out in week 1 and then wait for the winner of the Chicago vs New Orleans game, eventually beating the Bears to move on to the Superbowl. Meanwhile, the Pats (who as a #5 seed can't afford even one loss) take out the Jets, Chargers and Ravens on their way to their eventual Superbowl Loss to the Colts. Brady vs. Manning in the Superbowl, now that's quality watching.

In addition to the fantastic playoffs, it would also foster the creation of more natural rivals. Indy vs New England never meant anything until Brady and Manning came to town. But, over time they played a back and forth series, and seemed to meet almost every year in both the regular season and playoffs. Now it is must see TV.

Greazy goes to the Hall: Football

While out in Western PA doin' some bid'ness I thought I would take some time to meet up with some friends and hit the Football Hall Of Fame in Canton Ohio. So I picked them up in Pittsburgh and we headed West, bound for Canton. Now, maybe you folks know more about Canton Ohio then I did before this trip, but apparently it is quite a hot spot. We just assumed we could drive into town and get a hotel room... not so. The woman at the counter of the Fairfield Inn actually laughed at us when we asked if they had any rooms.

I was reminded of the line from "Dogma" only in our case it was "next time I suggest you not underestimate the staggering drawing power of Canton." We stayed a few miles up the road in Alliance OH, which is obviously not the draw that Canton is, because we got a room with out having to suck dick or anything.

We took a few hours to stroll through the Hall, which I still maintain is not as good as it's baseball cousin in Cooperstown NY. Oh, by the by, did I mention that XL and I are going there in a week to see Cal Ripken and Tony Gywnn inducted? No. Well we are.

Our threesome included a Skins fan (me) a Philly fan and a Cowboys fan. Needless to say there was a lot of good natured ball busting from the Boy's fan and myself to the Eagles fan over there lack of a title when compared to the 8 held by our teams. There was also a bit of talk about another Skins and Boys related topic:

How can Michael Irvin be a Hall-of-Famer if Art Monk isn't? Here is the break down.

Monk:

Years: 16, Games: 224

Receptions: 940, Yards: 12,721

AVG: 13.5, TD: 68

Superbowls: 3

Irvin:

Years: 12, Games: 159

Receptions: 750, Yards: 11,904

AVG: 15.9, TD: 65

Superbowls: 3

Sure, Playmaker gathered his numbers in 75 or so less games, but he also played in a much more explosive era. He was much more of a presence on the field than Monk, but you would be hard pressed to argue that he was more important to his team's overall success than Monk. This is a disgrace and needs to be fixed next year!

If You Can't Take The Bull By the Horns Why Not Let the Bull Gore you in the Ass??

I'm sure many of you have heard this story being as it is nearly a week old at this point however I can't help but comment on it. As I'm sure you all know every year since Monta Zuma got his revenge dumb ass people have been allowing bulls to chase them through the streets of Pamplona. It seems each year there are stories about people getting gored and even killed by these bulls who just want to get the fuck out of the way. This year was no different although it was a lot more comical. Brothers Michael & Laurence Lenahan running in their first ever bull run were also both gored simultaniously by the same bull. Evidently 6 bulls were let loose behind a bunch of morons, normally the bulls run together and get by all the runners and so on and so forth however in this race one bull went off on his own which is apparently the "worst possible scenario." In doing this both brothers were gored one in the ass and the other in the leg. A funnier sight I'm sure they haven't seen in Pamplona in quite some time. To make this even better, both brothers swear that they will be back again to have another run. If it were me, I'd want to hunt the bull that gored me down and have it for dinner and then mount it's horns on my big red neck pick up truck!!!

XL

Minor Variations

I love baseball. It is by far my favorite sport, even more so than football: which I know is sacrosanct in this country. To me, there's no sport more enjoyable to watch when the teams are evenly matched and the game is close... or at least competitive. I was lucky enough to take in two competitive games this weekend, both of which featured relatively even matched competitors (according to records) and I have come to a conclusion.

The minor leagues are just better. Hands down. Unless you're lucky enough to be fan of one of the 4 or 5 teams that can actually compete in MLB then all baseball is these days it overpriced torture. It would be like getting a lady in steel toe high-heals to kick you in the nuts and then paying her $500 for the favor. Face it folks... Bud Selig is our Dom, and we are his subs.

On Friday night I went to the 74.3% complete Sovereign Bank Stadium in York PA. It was York vs Lancaster which is kind of a Hatfield vs McCoy thing around these parts. York got behind early on a moon-shot HR and a run in the second, but they batted around in the third inning and got great pitching down the stretch to win 5-2.

On Saturday night I went to the now 16 year old Oriole Park at Camden Yards (I know I can't believe it's been that long either) to see the O's take on the White Sox. Both teams sport almost identical records even though the Sox won the World Series a few years back with almost the same team. Chicago jumped on the O's early, and XL texted me to see if I gotten fed up and left. But the O's chipped away and tied it in the 9th off All Star Closer Bobby Jenks. The Birds then won the game in the 10th, 7-6, with a sharp single through the right side by Nick Markakis.

Here's the tale of the tape:

YORK: Win, time of game 3:03, Attendance: 4,389

Miles Driven: 12

Ticket: $8.00

Parking: $3.00

Dinner (Hamburger, Jumbo Hot dog, Bottle of soda): $9.25

Total: $20.25

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Baltimore: Win, time: 3:45, Attendance 29,208

Miles Driven: 82

Ticket: $33.33 (I scalped 3 tickets at $100 total)

Parking: $10

Dinner: (Hamburger, Fries, Large Soda) $14.50

Total: $57.33

The minors are just plain better. If the O's had a chance of ever contending I might think differently. Hell, if I had been there to see Erik Bedard the night before I might have been happy to pay the extra $37.08 to see the big boys play, but he only goes once every five days.

The numbers don't lie folks.

Haven't We Suffered Enough?

Mitch Williams, Allen Iverson, Randall Cunningham, Terrell Owens, Eric Lindros, Ty Detmer, Ron Hextall, Coy Detmer, Chris Webber, Chris Gratton, Alexander Daigle . . . .

This is just a short list of some of the things Philly sports fans have had to endure over the years. None of us will ever stop seeing the "Wild Thing" serve up that meatball to Joe Carter in 1993. No one will ever be able to hear the word "practice" without hearing A.I.'s whiny rant in our heads. No Flyer fan will ever understand why Bob Clarke had to bring Ron Hextall back, again, after he had traded him once. Add to this the lack of any championships since the early eighties, everyone hating us because we are such bad fans, our surly demeanor, and you'll see why Philly fans are the way they are. I mean, how many times can I hear, "Yous guys booed Santa Claus." First of all (SPOILER ALERT!!) it's just a guy in a suit, and second of all, UP YOURS!!

Anyway, my point is, now that the Phillies are poised to be the losing franchise in all of professional sports with 10,000 losses, I have detected more than a small hint of joy in the voices of sportscasters. The stench of schadenfreude is ripe in the air. The hints of smiles as they say the number, the inner chuckle that is desperate to get out. I can see it. The misery that my city wallows in make them happy.

Now, I'm the first to admit if this were any other city, I would do the same. But, come on. The Cubs can cry all they want, Cleveland can bellyache, and Brooklyn can still be pissed about the Dodgers. But, can any one honestly say they have suffered more than Philly? I would put our sorrows toe to toe with any sports town.

With that said, as the Phillies poise to make dubious history, take a small moment, look inside your heart and have some pity on us. If only for a minute. Then, go fuck yourselves.

Hey Gary, SHUT THE FUCK UP!

I am a walking, talking embodiment of the saying: "I root for the Orioles and who ever is playing the Yankees." So as a rule, I like it when people pick on the Yankees. Be it George Mitchell calling Jason "Sir Ringe" Giambi on the carpet, or the flip-flopping, so called Baseball experts who now seem to have a problem with the amount The Boss gave the Rocket. So I should be happy that Gary Sheffield opened his big fat mouth again to rip his former employers. If Gary had problems in the Big Apple then a few things can be safely assumed. #1: He got what he wanted. He told just about anyone who would listen how much he wanted to play in the Bronx, because he was from Tampa and his God Father is Doc Gooden. With Family like that what a shock that Shef is a total cock-hole. #2 If Joe Torre called him out in a team meeting it was almost certainly deserved and had noting to do with his race.

This isn't the first time Shef has caused a dust up while giving an interview. A few months back he accused baseball of systematical holding black players back and promoting Latin players because they are easier to control. As most pundits pointed out; Shef was able to put down two races of people in just one sentence. No matter what you say: That's some impressively ignorant bigotry. And with his current outburst he went so far as to say that Derrek Jeter "doesn't count" as a black teammate because he's only half. Nice. Way to be understanding of the challenges faced my mixed race people on your own team, let alone the country at large.

With so many real injustices being done to black people in this country, couldn't this guy find a better cause than the plight of the black-millionaire ball player? Even Kanye West spoke up for regular black people when he blasted W, and he's a Rapper for cryin' out loud.

So, it is for all these reasons that I make Gary Sheffield my first Stiff Of The Week.

Sports & Beer...They Always Go Together

If you've ever watched a sporting event be it a baseball game or bowling event you are bound to have realized that in between innings or frames the commercials are filled with advertisements for beer. Over the years they have evolved from the bar war of "taste great" and "less filling" to talking frogs to setting Man laws in a glass room with Bert Reynolds in charge. Now we could talk all day about which commercials are the greatest of all time, I personally enjoyed the Budweiser frogs warring with Louie the iguana and the ferret but I digress.

I think Coors Lite has now hit an all time low in beer commercials. Recently I've seen two of their commercials featuring World's Strongest Man Magnus Ver Magnusson and the creepy Japanese guy that eats like 10 million hot dogs in like 15 minutes. I don't know his name and I am proud of that fact. The commercials go through these athlete's accomplishments and then states "at the end of the day what does the world's strongest man call for?" and you hear Magnus say in his thick accent "Coors Lite" with authority. He then slaps a buddy on the back and knocks him to the floor supposedly not knowing his own strength. In the Japanese guy's commercial they wipe all you can eat off the board as he walks in. First of all I doubt either of these guys would touch a Coors Lite on a bet although I realize that most athletes that endorse products (with the possible exception of Nascar drivers) probably never use them. I look at Miller Lite and the Man Law commercials and the Bud Lite radio ads honoring Real Men of Genius and think that Coors is way behind in the beer advertising wars.

I don't know how anyone else feels but I've got to go ahead and give Coors my first stiff of the week award for just making half assed commercials and not entertaining me as much as the competition.

Later XL

Night, Fight... Whatever! It's only a song.

by Greazy Tony

When Inky was working for a minor league baseball team, one of the things she had to do was arrange for the National Anthem to be performed live before each game. To that end, she put an add in the paper and auditioned people to make sure they weren't total douche bags who only thought they could sing. (this was pre-American Idol) She told the singers that they should make sure to know all the words, and that the Anthem should never take more than 90 seconds to sing.

That was the minors however, they do things a bit different at the major league level. Ever since Whitney Houston back in '91 people have been dragging out their "soulful" versions of the Anthem to well over two and a half minutes. But, at least Whitney got the words right.

At the MLB All Star game in San Fransisco last night the geniuses in charge called on Chris Isaak to sing the Anthem. Why? I guess because he's a San Fran native, and that's all the thinking they put in to these things now-a-days. Isaak was joined buy his whole band... no, wait... that's just one really fat member of his band: Kenny Dale Johnson. I'm guessing he's not from SF, but a southern state instead.

It's not that I don't like Chris Isaak, I just hate people who cock-up the Star Spangled Banner. Here is how the words go:

O say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light,What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight. O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air. Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there;O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave. O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Isaac and Billy Bob sang "Through the perilous night" and "Gave proof through the fight." What the fuck? We've all heard this song for nearly all our lives and if the words haven't sunk in, then can I suggest Sylvan Learning Center. Because you're a retard. For get rehabilitation, we just need to start taking people who sing the anthem wrong and kick them out of the country. And don't give me this 'it's on TV. People fuck up because they're nervous.' Sure, maybe an 18 year old who won Ms. Apple Pie Festival would be nervous when she realized she was on TV with millions of people watching, but you'd think Chris Isaak would be a bit cooler under pressure.

Plus, it's not like anyone actually cares about the Mid-Summer Classic anymore, so I'm sure the viewing audience was small.

Mission Statement...Or some shit like that

Just shortly after the last ice age, but which I mean 1992 to 1998 a group of ne'er-do-wells had a sports radio talk show. Since leaving school they have gone off to exciting jobs in Banking, Baseball, Sales, Banking, Higher Education, Retail, some more Banking, and Broadcasting.

Since leaving school, however, they have longed for a place to express their take on the sports world and all it's contradictions, idiosyncrasy and sometimes even virtue. This blog will be that outlet and in doing so will join the legion of other douche bag, know-it-all blogs about sport. Each writer has their own level of self importance, and their own personal delusions of grander to color their perception of sports.

Along the way, we'll be attacking the world of sports from a few varied points of view. Just as we did on our radio show, eons ago, we will celebrate the good and mercilessly ridicule the bad or ridiculous. Among the regular categories we will have are:

Stiff of the Week: Identifying the one person in the world of sports who came up the least clutch in the prior week.

Stud of the Week: Heaping praise on the sports figure who stepped it up during the previous week. (Note: neither Stiff nor Stud of the week are determined solely due to performance on the field)

I'd Hit That: Profiles, photo's and measurements of delicious dishes from the world of sports. We have both the male and female perspective on this, so the ladies can enjoy too.

Cause We Said So: Picks for big games based on absolutely no inside information, or real skill.

Stupid Windbags: We'll take time to point out the mistakes made by the sports media.

I should know, I was there: First hand reviews of events, venues, games and broadcasts from all over the sports universe.

And much, much more. The topics presented will be as varied as the personality's of our writers.