But I really discovered my west coast bias when I started watching the Today show. See, the Today Show is live. Except if you live on the West Coast. Then it’s on tape delay. I would still watch the show, but I always had this thought in the back of my head that it’s not really live and if Matt Lauer or Katie Couric (before she got all serious and went to do the news news) made a mistake, I probably wouldn’t actually be able to see it because the station would edit it and make it seem as perfect as Katie’s smile. Even if she had accidentally said the word ****.

          No, what really made me have the west coast bias from the Today Show was the weather. After Katie and Matt would go to the News desk and then talk about something, they’d drag Willard Scott (who should not be shown to kids under age five) or Al Roker (who should not be shown to any child regardless of age) and have them do the weather. In fact, they’d segue their weather segment by saying that they we’re going to look at the Weather across the country.

          Except that the weather across the country was usually confined to New England and the South and the midwest. They didn’t even bother talking about the West, where I was living, just as much a member of the “across the nation” as anyone. Not a peep. And if they did show an entire national map, nine times out of 10, they’d just throw a big sun over the region as if to tell all the other people that it’s hot in the west and that nothing really changes out there except which way the tumbleweeds might blow that day.

          Bitter? Me, never. I just think that if weathermen are going to talk about the weather across the nation that they should talk about the weather across the nation and not the woman in that turned 105 years old and still takes her poodle, vanilla, out for a walk every morning to get her cup of coffee and glazed jelly donut.

          So in that vane (as in weather vane, look it up), I am going to give out a weather report for all 30 MLB Clubs as we head into the 2007 season. Today will be the National League. The next post will be the American League. And yes, I would like to say a special birthday wish to Don Zimmer, who turns 112 this morning.

NL WEST (as if I’d start anywhere else)

·         Dodgers: Mostly Sunny with a few scattered clouds: Any team with Grady Little as their manager should not feel overly confident. I like Jason Schmidt to have a good year. I can’t say the same about Juan Pierre. It’s hard as to see Luis Gonzalez on this team. Derek Lowe and Randy Wolf are interesting starters, but I can’t see either winning more than 12 games. They got Nose-mar, which means they got Mia, which means I would watch their games only to see her. I hate Dodger fans, but still think they’ll contend for, if not win, the division.

·         Diamondbacks: Overcast, but with a sunny 10-day forecast: A young team on the verge of getting more than 23,000 people out to the ballpark. Stephen Drew leads the assault with Carlos Quentin and Connor Jackson providing ample support. Eric Byrnes still gets my vote in player most likely to kill himself during a game. The Big Unit is back, literally and figuratively, as his back is the ultimate question mark. At least Brandon Webb and Livan Hernandez, they know they have some guys who will eat up innings. And cupcakes. I’d give this team another year before seriously contending.

·         San Diego: Storms on the horizon: I think this team will struggle. Losing Bruce Bochy is a big hit. And playing in that park won’t help the hitters. Ever. Greg Maddux is good, but he doesn’t even look like Matthew Broderick anymore, that’s how old he is. I think Jake Peavy rebounds and Chris Young comes back to Earth. They reunite the Giles brothers, but their lineup has the looks of a team that hits .262 for the season.

·         San Francisco: Still stuck in a Hurricane: Rumor has it that ESPN’s Pedro Gomez will actually live in Bonds’ elbow pad this year and provide in-depth coverage of the slugger’s quest to dishonor Aaron’s immortality. I thought he’d retire before he ever broke the record. I also thought Anna Nicole would live forever. Have you looked at their line-up? Dirt would look at it and say it looks old. Omar Vizquel has fossils younger than him. I love Barry Zito and think Matt Cain could be good, but this team won’t flourish under these conditions.

·         Colorado: Snowing with little chance of letting up: Seriously, can this team ever be taken seriously. They toyed with the idea of trading Todd Helton. That makes as  much sense as “You’re doing a heck of a job, Brownie.” Yeah, they’ll hit the ball just fine. Great perhaps. But their pitching staff reminds me of Star Jones: Disgustingly thin and obnoxiously annoying. That doesn’t make sense. Neither does pitching in Coors Canaveral.

NL Central

·         St. Louis: Humidity Rising, Clouds developing: I like any team with Mark Mulder, even if he pitches only half the year, but beyond Chris Carpenter, the staff is as thin as Karen Carpenter. Folks, Braden Looper is going to be a starter. Seek shelter unless you covet the gopher ball. This team is just like the giants; they are old and older. Jim Edmonds starts the season on the DL, one of his nine appearances there this season.

·         Milwaukee: Clouds Breaking Up, Expect Sunshine: They were sexy last year and I think they are a sexier pick this year. Why? Because their manager used to be a tire changer for Dale Earnhardt and that means they are awesome. Otherwise, all their young pieces are up in the lineup and things are expected. Prince might finally claim his throne, although like Brett Favre, Geoff Jenkins just won’t go away. Their rotation is good, with Ben Sheets as the proverbial “Ace if he wasn’t hurt every two weeks.” I like this team.

·         Houston: Overcast, but a Rocket’s Re-Entry Could Scatter Clouds: Roy Oswalt is a stud. So is Berkman. Biggio can still play. And they got Carlos Lee to hit dingers in the short porch. And then there’s Adam Everett and Brad Ausmus who won’t hit above .240. After Oswalt, Woody Williams and Jason Jennings are serviceable. Check back in July on this team.

·         Chicago: Cloudy, with Heavy Storms a Possibility: Love Derrek Lee. Love Zambrano, though he won’t be here next year so they’d better try now. But their rotation is the deepest in the division and that’s with Mark Pryor as a No. 5 starter. Oh, and they got some kid named Soriano. He could be good. Picking the Cubs to anything other than lose is easier than getting your hopes up because their GM spent more money than Nancy Grace on her last witch-lift. I always hope with this team, but I never wish.

·         Pittsburgh: Mired in a Drought. Chances of Rain Slim: I like Jason Baya lot and think Adam LaRoche could be a good compliment. Otherwise, I don’t expect Freddy Sanchez to repeat last year’s heroics and I don’t see a lot of runs from this team. Think padres east, except younger pitching and a worse bullpen. How they ever traded Mike Gonzalez I’ll never understand. Not going to be a good year.

·         The Nati: Drizzling all year. Buy Flood Insurance: Any team that can get Bronson Arroyo for Wily Mo Pena should have karma on their side. Any team that shells out a lot of money for Eric Milton loses that karma instantly. Adam Dunn is great. I wish he would fight more. Aaron Harang has the world’s biggest head, bigger than Kevin Mench and Ken Griffey Jr. is on this team and I am still sad he ever left the mariners. The ghost of Marge Schott reins for a while here.

NL East

·         WasNationals: Invest in Umbrellas. Even Frank Robinson got washed away from this mess. I really like Ryan Zimmerman. And that’s about it for their line up. It’s a bad ballpark for hitters and they’ve got Christian Guzman clogging up their lineup. Bad. What’s worse is their pitching, as they’re projected to start Tim Redding, who was last seen in a Yankees uniform, pitching one inning against the Red Sox and getting released the next day.

·         Phish: Pockets of Sunlight. Here’s an idea for a young team nobody thought would contend and then suddenly does: fire your Manager of the Year. Wow. Smart move. And I say this as a Sabre fan because I’ve seen it happen before. They remind me a lot of the diamonbacks except they have Miguel Cabrera, a bonafide superstar. Could be a lot of pop in that lineup. And they have a nice, young pitching staff that will get depleted after this year when Dontrizzle leaves for the Yankees. Still a year or two away.

·         Queens: Sunny and Breezy. The best the NL has to offer, the Mets should go to the World Series. They might not win, but they should be there. Delgado, Beltran and Reyes, Oh My. And David Wright will be on a Wheaties Box soon. Plus Pedro, Tom Glavine (who refuses to get older) and what I project as a rebound year for Oliver Perez lead me to like the Queens in shea.

·         Philly: Plenty of Sunshine with a chance for a hail of batteries. If this team doesn’t win, look out. Look out as in eating at Pat’s at 3 a.m. after drinking Stoli martinis straight up all night with Whiskey to finish the evening. All the pieces are there, from sms’s phinest to the best second baseman in baseball to a talented rotation with a southpaw stud. The bullpen worries me, but this team better win. Or else… Pizza’s going to come after you.

·         Mylanta: Always a chance for plenty of sun. Bobby Cox is the best manager in the past 15 years. It’s ok to take your foot off the brake Tony, you know it’s true. The Jones Boys, Andruw and Larry Wayne, are back for round 112, Bryan McCann looks nice, Jeff Francouer just threw out the Russians for trying to steal Alaska back and they have a rotation filled with veterans who desperately miss Leo Mazzone. This team will contend. As always.

So that’s the weather report for the NL. And if you couldn’t tell, I don’t expect the World Series winner to come from the Senior Circuit this year.

Do you think if Bosom Buddies was still on television or about to come on as a new  show, it would be called that? I can’t even say the word ***** on the internet, and this is the internet, where I can simultaneously look at pornography, order a book, play poker and watch ****. So for whatever reasons, I think Bosom Buddies wouldn’t float. It would have to be renamed so that it couldn’t be sued for defamation from some group who feels the title undermines the cerebral body images of young people. Even if the show is about two guys cross-dressing to meet chicks.

          So no Bosom Buddies. That’s a shame. It had Tom Hanks and that other guy. I don’t know his name. You could tell me it’s wilson and I’d believe you. Sometimes I wonder if that is how Scottie Pippen is going to be remembered. Or Tom Glavine. Now that would really be sad.

          When people ask me about the Hall of Fame, I usually have an opinion. All baseball fans do. Name the player, and there is a debate to be had. Charlie Hustle. Shoeless Joe. The Goose. The Hawk. And those are just the guys who are out. Of course there’s Don Sutton, Pee Wee Reece and Paul Molitor if you are not a fan of the DH. But there is always debate and unrest and feelings that the institution is always lacking or missing. I don’t feel like those feelings exist about the football or basketball shrines (No one watches hockey).

It’s something utterly unique about the nation’s pastime, something that serves as yet another extension of the essence of democracy. Debate and Compromise. Except there is little to the debate for baseball fans, the reason a Hall of Fame exists in any sport. They don’t get to vote. They have no say in a process so endearing to most that is such a heated and personal topic. Instead they have to rely on baseball writers and the veteran’s committee. And they’re not perfect by any means: see Buck O’Neill.

I hate when I hear sportswriters defend their decision not to elect a certain player because it is the Hall of Fame, not the Hall of Very Good. Most sportswriters, and I apologize to my large amount of sportswriter friends, would have a hard time making the distinction between the two because they have no true way to measure the innate physical and mental abilities that these athletes posses.

Stats can lie. There are plenty of examples. My friend likes to spout off ones about Ronald McDonald’s (think about a really big guy with red hair who has to apply something to make himself capable of performing his job, yet would deny that it is the applicable substance that makes him who he is) career extra-base hits aside from home runs, and how they are the lowest among all players who hit at least 500 Home runs. And you can find them for pitchers as well. Yet, fans wait helplessly each year as another class comes to ballot having to hope, pray, do whatever is within their power to wait for the results. With no say. For the building and group they are going to celebrate and tell their children and grandchildren about.

Baseball is going well, but not great. Steroids and performance enhancing substances cloud its every moment. Barry Bonds just signed a contract in which the San Francisco Giants made him understand that his personal trainers are not welcome in the clubhouse. Fans can already vote for the All-Star Game, an event dedicated solely for them, no matter how many of their stars decide to skip the event (See: The Pro Bowl). So why not the Hall of Fame? Why not allow the fans to have a partial say into who gets into their building. It’s as much for them as it is the players. I don’t want Tom Glavine being thought of as that “other guy” because he played with Greg Maddux and doesn’t get in due to some technicality in his stats or personality that makes baseball writers the curmudgeons that most of them are.

But I doubt anything will change. The writers have the power and would be fools to give any of it up. Look at how much it is screwing up Republicans. So I, and the billions of baseball fans in the world, will have to wait and see whether Ichiro gets his proper recognition even though he played some of his career in another league, on another continent. And that just *****.

Final thought: I’m not sure what to think about this outpouring of emotion for Barbaro. It is a horse. When did everyone turn into Tony Soprano? It won one race. Had it kept racing, it probably would have raced three more time on television before being put out to stud. And in 12 months or minutes, whichever came first, people would have forgotten about the thing because it is a horse. Don’t misunderstand me as an animal hater; think of me as someone who doesn’t think the courageous fight a horse puts up is somehow more noble than the fight millions of people around the world endure from the thousands of diseases and disabilities that plague our species.

I’m getting sick to my stomach watching the Patriots roll to another Superbowl. I don’t like that team. Never have. They are arrogantly humble. Except when they dance on their opponents’ midfield symbol, though it’s not like everyone doesn’t do that in these days of over-glorified celebration.

          Even baseball seems to have fallen upon these trends. Brushbacks have gone the way of light-hitting shortstops. Today, you throw inside on a guy, he dusts himself off and shoots a look back to the mound like you’ve said some unthinkables about his mother. Like it’s his homeplate. What in the name of Bob Gibson has happened?

          People love to say how they don’t condone violence. They like to say that in the face of aggressive sporting events where testosterone spews from all orifices involved without so much as a pause.  But people encourage. I encourage it and so do you. I encourage when I watch the Yankees play the Red Sox and want badly for Kyle Farnsworth throw up and in on David Ortiz just to remind whose plate he’s standing over. You might do it when you wait up until all hours of the night to catch the latest NBA fight. The adage is, you went to a fight and a hockey game broke out. So don’t tell me people don’t like violence.

          So what is there to do? Throw inside? Make batters afraid to keep inching closer and closer toward first base with each at-bat? Maybe. For some, it needs to happen. Not the Scott Rolen types, the ones who hit a home run, drop their heads and run the bases. But his teammate Albert Pujols, maybe just once someone should plant a ball in his ribs and see how much enjoys staring down those blasts.

          Same with Barry. He’s already on drugs and wearing more body armor than mideval knights. So why not throw one that hits him square where god has put the most padding. It’s possible he’s already been stung there enough already.

          Somewhere along the lines, pitching inside, brushing back hitters, playing the game of baseball, became a faux pas. Stuffy executives on high from their Madison Avenue perches gave a nod or made a wink and it became discouraged. Even though people like violence. Even though it could be argued that basebrawls are somewhat inherent to the game. That’s why it troubles me so much to here people say that fighting should be banned in hockey. That would be like saying you couldn’t hit-and-run or execute a suicide squeeze. It makes no sense.

Tensions rise. Blood pumps. Adrenaline flows. And pitchers need to throw inside. And if scuffles occur, I doubt baseball’s popularity would suddenly deflate. I think people would be relieved. Baseball would be back.

Now it is possible that it never left. That I’m missing the thousands, not hundreds, of these incidents occurring on a seasonly basis. But I doubt it. I feel like the game, and those in charge at its highest levels, have sent the wrong message. Offense is everything. Runs are all that matters. It started with the lowering of the mound during Gibson’s era, continued with the dreaded DH and has become the embarrassing standard to which baseball bows to at this juncture.

Ultimately, what is there to do with this seismic shift in baseball, this realignment of baseball’s dogma toward the offensively inclined? The same thing people should do with all of baseball’s problems: Blame Mark McGwire.

You can say what you want, but the truth is we’ve never heard Rafael Palmeiro’s story. Who am I? I am he and he is glad that Mark McGwire is not in the Hall of Fame. And the fact that he’ll never get in makes my smile wider.

          But you what doesn’t make me happy? Barry Bonds. And the fact that the Big Three is no more. Completely. Why Billy Beane? Why? Also, no Goose, no Hawk in the Hall? Please. That gets me sad. It’s like Eric Show is the leading the voting crusade and Goose is just not getting his gander.

          So I’m back. No one cares. Neither do I. I fell somewhere in the woods and got lost. Like Bret Boone’s career. Or Tom Gordon. Wait. That sounds like a great book idea… and a terrible book.

          Barry Zito pitching for the Giants? I say 17 wins and an era under 3.50. Sammy Sosa playing with the Rangers? Again? Thank goodness Andy Pettite is back in Pinstripes. I want to see more of the new Diamondbacks’ jerseys.

          The Royals? You want to ask me about the Royals? They paid what a lot of teams would have for Gil Meche. Except they are the Royals and no one actually thought they’d do it. Everyone thought the blue jays would be that team that wasted their money. Otherwise, I think of them first as a loss team, as in “I think they’ll lose X games.” They’re an 80-90 loss team. Enjoy Reggie Sanders. Chicks dig the bat waggle.

          I’m jumping all over, like Bostonians were when they got this big Japanese pitcher who looks great on paper and may turn out fine, but how is that going to help Josh Beckett not throw so many home runs? And trading Manny? Please. That’s what gets me upset about Boston fans; this guy, in a way only he could, goes out and puts up those numbers and Red Sox fans would dance in the streets like David Bowie and Mick Jagger when he got traded, remembering only the antics and not the consistency. So please, trade him.

          Are the mariners, rockies, marlins and pirates still teams? What, we should be glad that Dontrelle Willis re-signed with the Phish? That just means he’ll be pitching for one of five teams next year.

          Yankees. Well, trading the Big Unit made sense. He fit in just like a mean, grouchy 6’10” person would in a city crammed with 8 million people. gone to Motown is sheffield.  They’ll probably get the Rocket back at some point but I am still not sure what to think of this team.

          Ok, I’m kidding. They’ll win the division again.

          Pitchers and catchers report on Feb. 15, which means another spring of me freezing in kansas instead of enjoying Lawn Seats, “Carlos Lee chants” and seeing outfielders with numbers like offensive lineman.  and you’ll notice i have stopped writing in capital letters.

          Is it wrong to make a comparison between Greg Maddux and Lute Olson? Ok, my mind is losing its steam, just like Lindsay Lohan checking into rehab. Does that make sense? I won’t say. I’m pulling a Raffy.

It’s rare for me to write anything about the Red Sox. Well, unless it’s a tangent about how I hate them. But I was swimming today and all could think about was Big Papi. No, not like that. Not at all. I don’t think Mrs. Papi likes to think about Big Papi that way.

See, what got me thinking about Big Papi was not the fact that he is one of two Red Sox I can actually stomach and have respect for (the other being Jason Varitek, whom I named to my All-Sandlot team and still think of as the best battery-mate a pitcher could ask for) or the fact that I shudder every time he spits into his glove for every at-bat against any Yankees pitcher, even Mariano. 

No, what got me thinking about Big Papi was that he and his partner in crime, Manny Ramirez, whom I genuinely dislike, are always tossed around as the greatest tandem since sliced bread (which makes more sense than you think because the only time I’ve ever really eaten a single piece of bread is either as toast, which I usually don’t like unless it’s rye toast, or when I’m really broke and just have peanut butter in my cupboard and I just slap a mound of it on a single slice of bread and munch in gooey happiness and then really think about what I’ve just done as I’m choking on a layer of Jif, always Jif). And of course, peanut butter goes with jelly just like fried eggs goes with okra. Or peas and carrots. Or oil and water. Some things just go together I guess.

So I decided to compare. I like to compare. Who doesn’t? You do it when you buy cars and wives. You compare when you go to the store and decide that there really is no peanut butter as good as Jif, no matter what Disney of Facts of Life character may be on a certain label. People just like to compare. So that’s what I did. I decided to compare Papi and Ramirez, yes, the best tandem currently in the game, against some of the all-time greats to see where they stick out, if at all.

The other tandems: Ruth and Gehrig, Maris and Mantle and McGwire and Canseco. Including Man-o-Ram and Papi, these tandems are infamous for their ability to hit the ball out of the stands and be the run producing killers in the middle of the lineup. I am not looking at average or on-base percentage like I am prone to do. All I wanted was to compare Home Runs, RBIs and Runs scored over a three-year period, because that’s all the time Papi and Manny have spent together. For the other groups, I chose a three-year period that was A) consecutive and B) included a World Series Championship. Just like Papi and Ramirez. Why I remind myself of that constantly, I don’t know. So get some peanut butter, maybe some celery (which just so happens to take negative calories to eat) or some bread and see how they compare:

          As you can see, they compare quite favorably. Except against the guys whose team was known as Murderer’s Row. Of course, Canseco was injured in 1989, either due to too many injections in his butt or to many appearances on the mound.

          Does this change my thoughts on Red Sox? Not at all. Does this change my thoughts on Manny Ramirez? Nope. I’d rather win without him. Does it make me that much more scared of Big Papi, especially in clutch situations? Absolutely. I’d be eating something other than Jif if I thought any other way.

• Did you notice that it’s been roughly a year since Rafael Palmeiro failed his drug test and we still haven’t heard from him? If this guy ever gets into the Hall of Fame, I will turn in my baseball writer appreciation pass for life.

• Matt Leinart finally signed. Thank goodness. Because the stadium looks incredible.

• Good for you Jason Grimsley.

• I am happy to see that the reporters are being forced to testify in the Bonds case. I am very suspicious of what Bonds did and didn’t do to hit all those home runs. But I am equally suspicious about who all these sources were that the reporters hid behind in writing articles and books. The last thing any sportswriter should ever do is emulate Bob Novak.

• Top five teams hitting with 2 outs and Runners in Scoring Position:

Minnesota  .298

Baltimore   .274

Atlanta     .273

Cleveland  .271

Texas       .269

Surprising, because of these teams, none will be playing in the 2006 postseason.

I’m moving this Saturday and it could not be coming any sooner. My roommate is playing his drums downstairs, which was neat the first two times, but not after eight weeks of listening to the opening act of the opening act of the opening act of Scorpions. I keep waiting for Bruce Dickinson to be passed out on my couch one morning.

          Apparently it was moving day Monday as well. Well, I guess, unless your name was Alfonso Soriano, Miguel Tejada, Jason Schmidt, Brad Lidge, Roy Oswalt, Andruw Jones, Mike Lowell, Barry Zito, Reggie Sanders, Pat Burrell, Livan Hernandez, Mark Redman, Coco Crisp (as I am pretty sure Red Sox fans finally know, is just not that productive), Jeromy Burnitz or Morgan Ensberg. But yeah, people moved.

          Where to begin? I’m sure you all want to know what I think about Mr. Abreu putting on stripes. Well, I’m thrilled. Ecstatic. Abreu is an All-Star. Some numbers to chew on: .301 career batting average, .412 OBP and a 76 % base stealer who has 20 already this season. Yes, the power is down. But did I mention he won a gold glove last year or trails only Albert Pujols (314) and Todd Helton (278) in runs created the past two seasons (247). Coupled with the Red Sox inactivity and Boomer Wells’ lethargic start Tuesday night, this move gives the Yankees the upper hand in the division. And I haven’t even started on the acquisition of Cory Lidle, who as a fifth starter, has made 21 starts and gone past five innings pitched in 20 of them. So yes, the Yankees, always the rich kid, got a corvette because mommy spoils him.

          What really startles me is that the Red Sox were so quiet. Call me Peter King or Dan Shaughnessy, but the Red Sox just don’t have the pitching. They have the karma with every Big Papi spit-on-batting-gloves at-bat, but I just don’t see it. And if the Doug Mirabelli situation proved anything, it’s that neither the Yankees nor the Red Sox will allow anyone to get through waivers who might have an inkling of helping the other team out down the stretch. I also really hate the Red Sox.

• Royals fans, you can officially call me a Dayton Moore fan. The two things every team wants to get is young and pitching. And that’s exactly what Moore got in his array of trades. De La Rosa already has a win in the rotation and Odalis Perez is a former all-star who is a significant upgrade over nearly anyone else the Royals had toeing the rubber. Oh, and Mark Teahan just won AL Player of the Week Just don’t go crazy. Daylight is still a little ways away.

• Greg Maddux: won’t make a difference because it’s the Dodgers and they won’t make the playoffs and I’ll bet two bud lights on that with anyone.

• The Mets deservedly deserve to steal some of the back page headlines with their deals. Yes, Oliver Perez’s stock cannot be any lower and Roberto Hernandez is not the dominant reliever he once was, but both are excellent pick ups for the team running away with the National League. I would take my chances with Rick Peterson and Perez any day of the week.

• Detroit: Sean Casey will play in 25 games, ground into 12 double-plays and you’ll wonder what exactly was exciting about this acquisition.

So those were the big deals. Exactly. Big. Deal. Well, except for the Yankees who managed to acquire one of the top 10 players in baseball. And a fifth starter. And Craig Wilson to back-up first and the outfield and pinch hit. I wonder what the weather in the Bronx will be like in October.

• Ok, it really bothers me that it has become trendy to boo Alex Rodriguez. That people, along with the Sinatra and the 4 train and Bob Sheppard, have made booing the reining AL MVP something to do at the Stadium. No, he is not a true Yankee, not until he does something under the lights of postseason play. But please, just stop it. We’re better than this. We aren’t in Boston.
• Sign your contract, Matt Leinart. Take your money, most of which you don’t deserve yet, and get in camp. The Cardinals can’t afford to have even the slightest bit of negativity while everyone in the state is lusting about the Cardinals.
• Take a second out of your day today and think about those trapped amidst the horrors in the Middle East. A quick resolution is all we can pray for. 

• Floyd Landis, Ben Johnson. Ben Johnson, Floyd Landis. I bet you two have a lot to talk about.

• And Mel Gibson, I hope rehab goes well. Because it sounds like you really need it. Both from the sauce and the anti-Semitism.

• Oh, and because I know you were all waiting for it, I updated my reading list finally. Check them out.

Before I begin, I need to announce that I officially finished my master’s degree. The Star Wars jokes are endless.

       On to baseball.  And the only thing you should be talking about, well at least according to ESPN: the trade deadline. That, and Shea Hillenbrand. What a disaster! Once, during a Diamondbacks’ spring training game in Tucson, I begged, pleaded cajoled as loudly as possible for Shea to say it just once: Boston *****. He never did and I bet he regrets it now. He is the Alyssa Milano of our generation, sticking it out with his new fling for a while until he starts complaining that they don’t go out anymore, that they play the same teams all the time. So he’s off to San Francisco, where he won’t last because everyone is always talking about Barry Bonds and not him. It’s also official: any thoughts you might have even remotely entertained about Toronto making the playoffs should be over. Gayle and Oprah-rumor over. As you can tell I watched a lot of VH1 this weekend. Remember when they played different videos than MTV. Stuff like Wilson Phillips, Don Henley and Barbara Streisand.

          But on to the rumors:

• I don’t believe Alfonso Soriano. Washington would be the last place I would want to play. Well, maybe after November I might want to play. Hopefully.

• It would make the most sense, if he moves at all, that Barry Zito end up with the Mets. He would be reunited with pitching coach Rick Peterson, who mentored the ace during his CY Young season. Does that mean a noted free-spirit like Zito could make it in New York?

• Bobby Abreu won’t be traded. HOWEVA, I think Pat Burrell could be headed out of town, which could cause a temporary pause in cheese steak sales.

• Please, please, I’ll do anything you want baseball gods: don’t bring Reggie Sanders to the Bronx. If we have to get someone, then bring in Kevin Mench and his huge head. Things seem to be going well. Things are eerily reminiscent of last year and that worked out find. Sorta. Ok, it’s not ok for the Yankees to say “We won the pennant.” But at least the Red Sox didn’t win it. That’s always got a nice ring to it.

• Speaking of the Red Sox, it more a matter of who they’ll get at this point. They’ll be active hoping someone will take Matt Clement. Maybe Mike Lowell for Scott Linebrink.

On to other baseball related matters:

• Have you seen Frank Thomas’ numbers? The man can still play this game and is a surefire bet to be enshrined in Cooperstown.

• Francisco Liriano and Jered Weaver have been mighty impressive this season. Too bad neither will make the playoffs.

• Can we start a pool to guess how much Barry Bonds is paying his former trainer, Greg Anderson, to refuse to testify and sit in jail? With the new grand jury, his failure to cooperate could land him behind bars for a year. How much is that worth?

• And of course, a Kansas City update: they lost. Though Mike Sweeney turned 33 on Saturday and said he is eyeing a rehab assignment soon. Breathe easier Royals fans.

Other stuff:

• To me, what makes Tiger Woods so great is not the ball striking or the poise or the beautiful wife/nanny who I used to have some great nudie pics of, but his knowledge and respect of the game. He always saves his best for two tournaments: the Masters and the Open Championship. He knows these are the places where legends are born and his respect for the heritage of the game should not go unnoted.

• The Tour de France is over. How many hours of it did you watch this year? And please, round up. Even if it was only 15 minutes. On the last day, just so you could revel in seeing the French people have to watch yet another American win their event.

• Haven’t really loved the “lost” Chappelle Show episodes. The hosts are obnoxious. I feel like true Dave Chappelle fans shouldn’t watch it. Though the Monsters sketch was hilarious.

• I don’t know what’s worse: realizing that Bill Simmons and I will be cheering on the same EPL team (well, aside from Manchester United, who is still my favorite even without David Beckham and that slime Cristiano Ronaldo) or realizing that I could beat nearly everyone I watched compete on World Series of Popular Culture. Like I said, been watching a lot of VH1 lately.

So I should be studying for my comp exams tomorrow but I’m not. I think should is the action word in that sentence. There are probably a lot of things I should be doing (or perhaps, should not be doing, but that’s for an entirely different  avenue mainly because I’m not paying you to listen to my thoughts nor am I sitting in a stuffy office with books about anxiety and other topics that lurk deeply in your closet but you’re too afraid to recognize or confront. Did I just reveal too much? Does it matter?)

          Getting back to things I should be doing: well, I should be paying more attention to baseball. I admit that I haven’t been very diligent this baseball season. I really could use a Casey Kasem-like DJ keeping me updated on the all the baseball news but that doesn’t exist. Well, it used to, when the late, great Mel Allen was around, with This Week in Baseball, but that’s long gone. Mainly because I just can’t see Ryan Seacrest portraying a washed-out stoner whose best friend is a dog and travels in a van solving crimes.

          What really got me started on my whole “I should be paying more attention to baseball” kick was when I noticed what Joe Mauer was hitting as we head into the all-star break. It freaked me out. I didn’t know whether I was looking at my latest cholesterol count or an actual batting average after 85 games. But of course, he’s not starting in the All-Star game because Pudge Rodriguez happens to anchor the best team in baseball, the same team who leads Mauer’s twins by 12 games in the standings. Hasn’t the home run frenzy of the past decade and a half taught us that the glory of the team is sacrificed for the exploits of the individual? What in the name of Brady Anderson is going on here?

          Elsewhere, on the same page I see Mauer resting in the Tony Gwynn/George Brett stratosphere I see the Braves 13 games out of 1^st place. They just endured their worst June since the 1950s and the streak of 1204954939394943394036784 consecutive division titles appears to finally be over. And to the Mets of all teams. Think about what life was like the last time the Braves didn’t win the division. We’ve had 3 Presidents. Some may say four. Some may say five. Or Six. Actually, that’d be seven but who’s counting. Maybe, just maybe, we could convince George Lucas to film Bobby Cox in Princess Leia garb and have a message sent to Obi-Won Mazzone. If it will help speed the process up, I have an R2D2 keg shell in my garage.

          Even the Royals are playing great right now. Well, not great, but a recent update of their chances of passing the 1962 Mets for the worst record ever seem to be lessening with each Mike Wood appearance. Or Mark Redman all-star  appearance. Ok, I lied. They still have the worst record in the American League.

          And of course, we have the 2006 All Star Game in Pittsburgh, where the beauty of the stadium overshadows the pall of another losing season of Buc-O baseball. Well, then I look at the same page with Joe Mauer and the Royals and the Braves and there is a Pirate leading the NL in batting average. And making the all star team. And his name is not Jason Bay, though he’s an all star as well. That Pirates’ name: Willie Stargell. Whoops. I meant Freddy Sanchez.

          So yeah, I should be studying for my exam tomorrow but I just can’t. Not when the Braves are finally losing. Or Joe Mauer is finally healthy and fulfilling the prophecy. Or the Pirates are fielding two all-stars when they have the worst record in baseball even though they have the league’s top hitter. But if this were the just the Royals languishing in the tepid waters of mediocrity, I’d be all right. I should hope so.