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Being the seventh son of itinerant peach pickers, it's needless to say that finances were constantly tight when I was a kid. It was used books, canned generic string beans (albeit French cut), Go-Bots, Hunt's ketchup and Mello Yello (how I longed for the sugary goodness of Mountain Dew). Along with these domestic bootstrapping efforts, came many more PawSox games than Red Sox games. And, I admit, over the years I came to love that decrepit old stadium in that dying mill town. Chock full of it's amateur oil portraits of old stars, endless supply of souvenir cups commemorating baseball's longest game and it's cigarette man billboard that was constantly in disrepair. I still have occasional, fond nightmares of that armless behemoth razing my childhood Little League field.

Anyway, there was a silver lining to my frugal childhood, as back in the day triple-A was actually a stepping stone in the progression to the majors rather than a place to stash old veterans, Americans returning from the Japanese leagues or those Bull Durham idols just not able to make that final leap. I remember feverishly praying that Rick Lancelotti would one day get his shot at Boston glory and cursing Lou Gorman to damnation each year that the Sox sent him down in spring training. Still, I was able to see a lot of young players learning how to adjust their cups, dribble chaw on their uniforms, glare at umps, ignore kids looking for autographs and generally grow into being a big league player.

Of course more often than not, the Sox would rather trade them for Larry Anderson, Mike Boddicker or Jeff Suppan than actually use these budding gems, so it just warms my cockles to see the Pawtucket pipeline gushing talent this year. Pedroia (sometimes it's easy to forget he's a rookie), Buchholz, Ellsbury, Moss, Cash. Okay, Cash might be a wee stretch and I might be jumping the gun on Moss. And Gammons would disagree, but Dice-K and Okijima are rookies, too, even if they never tasted the fine culinary establishments in Pawtucket.

Obviously, everyone was giddy over Buchholz's no-no, but his previous start against the Angels was almost as impressive, given the Orioles tendency to fold more easily than the Michigan defense (along with Greg's eclectic rooting tastes for the Bears, Yanks, and Celtics, there is also Michigan).

It would be nigh silly to consider keep Manny on the bench in favor of Ellsbury, just think of all the great pitches Papi would see, but I don't think you'd get many complaints about letting him steal at-bats from Drew as long as he keeps raking (Drew has to be hurt right? Cora has a better slugging percentage. Cora!)

Pedroia has more than delivered. It could not have been easy stepping in and starting at second base, especially after his April and May, but he has consistently shown himself to be a real pest and the guardian of Trot's dirt dog image.

Dice-K and Okijima have both earned their keep and I think Dice-K will continue to improve, but it can be brutal to watch him pitch. Glorious one inning, flat, batting practice pitches the next. Still, he's young and that consistent command could develop. At the worst he's a front end starter and it's hard to imagine the Sox with this type of lead without either of these imports.

For such a baseball rich town, it's not often that we get to see rookies come up and truly contribute (exhibit - Ramirez, Hanley). We hear about them and discuss them endlessly for years, but rarely see the end results in a Boston uniform. Every few years, we might see a rookie burst fully formed onto the scene, such as Nomar or Papelbon, but it's been a long time since the Sox have had a rookie class that truly added some value. Looking back at ye olde baseballreference.com, I think '87's group of: Burks (oh how I loved him -- I always thought there was a rule that the Red Sox couldn't steal bases before Burks), Jody Reed, Todd Benzinger, Sam Horn and Mike Greenwell are the next closest thing.

So while I wonder if Ellsbury has to shave once or twice a week, it's nice just see the Sox future on display in Boston, actually playing for our team. The only thing sweeter would have been getting the chance to catch a few games at McCoy first.

Labels: baseball, mike d, MLB, Red Sox

So yesterday I'm sitting on the couch with my laptop, bored, mindlessly watching one horse blowjob video after another. A few hours later, I changed course and found myself on a major television network's fantasy baseball site reading some useless, late-January nonsense. As I'm skimming, I see an article topic that annoys me every time. It's the annual "Hey, these are the MLB players who are the magical age of 27 who might break out this year!!!" Ah yes, you know what I'm talking about. The ol' "breaking out at 27" theory. Like tulips and prostitutes wearing white ... this can only mean that Spring is almost upon us.

Now the article itself was, whatever. I'm not linking to it, because this isn't meant to be a critique of the article or the writing (which was fine. Just standard, dumbed down fantasy info). Rather, my intention was to offer up more of a diatribe sprinkled with some profanity (tits ... hehe) on how annoying this topic is. But I will say, the article did have a photo of the writer at the top, which always amuses me. What is that supposed to do? "Gee, I didn't like this article, but the writer has such good cheek bone structure. Now that I think about it, this article was great!!!" Dumb. Anyway, in this photo, he looked to be 30+ something years old and was wearing a backwards baseball hat. Not that I'm against the backward hat, but on a major sports website, it feels a little forced. It gives off that "I'm a cool sportswriter who breaks all the rules ... yet I might still live with my parents and have to pay for sex" kind of vibe. But anyway, that's not the point here.

The point is, this correlation between being 27 and breaking out has always reeked of bullshit. Now I'm sure there's some mathematical findings that may indicate correlation. But there are so many variables involved that taking that data at face value is just dumb. Of course, I'm far too lazy and masculine to prove this theory wrong with things like numbers or research. But I can tell you that I have, in fact, read articles debunking this "27 Breakout" nonsense. I just can't remember where. And I know for a fact that it's that kind of cutting edge journalism that keeps you all coming back to SportsBlah. But in the interest of fun, flip through your Baseball Forecaster and look at the age of most of last year's breakout players. Justin Morneau (25), Joe Crede (29), Robinson Cano (24), Jonathan Papelbon (24) , Jeremy Bonderman (24), J.J. Putz (30), Justin Verlander (24). Although, there was Ryan Howard (26), Garrett Atkins (26) and Matt Holiday (26), which is almost 27. In fact, those three are 27 now, but that happened after the season ended. See? I win.

Ok, I know I'm probably missing some guys who were 27. And you can be all like, "But how many guy break out when they're 27, dude?" And to that I maturely say, "Eat my ass." Then I follow it up with the more rational, "But how many don't? And can age truly be the lead indicator?" I want statistical significance here people. So, I propose we change the "breakout at 27" theory to this:

If you are almost 27, or just after 27, or even 27, you might have a good chance of maybe breaking out possibly. But that doesn't necessarily mean that if you're not 27 you won't be breaking out, because you could, but you might not although you most certainly would be if you did. But if you're 27 the general likelihood of you actually becoming a star would almost maybe increase by the sheer fact that you are, most notably, 27 and/or younger or older. Other variables such as experience, talent level and opportunity are rendered ineffective gauges of breakout potential, unless you are or are not 27 years of age.

Again, I don't give a shit about the article. But I have to say, one of the players mentioned poised for a breakout season was ... (wait for it) ... Mark Teixeira. Seriously. Mark-fucking-Teixeira. I don't know if you guys know this, but he's 27. So look out. He might be in for some big things. Probably something similar to the big numbers he put up when he was 25. Of course, Adam Dunn is another guy on that list too. I don't know who's more annoying, Dunn or Eric "this is the year" Chavez. It's especially annoying since I have had some fantasy baseball man-love for Dunn over the past few years. And not the kind where I want to slap his balls on my face and hum show tunes. I'm talking about "he's totally going to hit over .240 and must be on my fantasy team" man-love. Well, he isn't. He never will. Although, you never know. Because this year ... he's 27. But Rob Deer and Tom Brunansky were 27 at some point too, right? Either way, stay tuned.

Labels: Fantasy Baseball, greg, MLB

This is cute. Barry Bonds thinks that Mark McGwire and Pete Rose belong in the Hall of Fame. That's like Michael Jackson saying Mark Foley deserves to lead a Boy Scout Troop. Why even bother making a statement like that? Because, honestly, people are really going to have to contemplate if Bonds himself should be in the Hall. Which is a completely ridiculous notion considering his career. But if steroids are proven, he could go the way of Pete Rose. It just boggles my mind to think of how far Bonds' stock has tumbled over the past few years. This is the guy who hit 73 HR's. Won MVP after MVP. And now what? I mean, don't get me wrong, he has always been regarded as a gargantuan asshole (whether valid or not). But he was always the asshole who was the greatest baseball player of our generation. Now, he is everyone's poster child for what's wrong in professional sports. Well, everyone but ESPN.

In fact, I would be willing to bet there is no more polarizing player in professional sports than Bonds. You either love him (which means you live in San Francisco) or hate him. I feel like there's no in between, at least now. In the case of most superstars, you might not like them, but you can respect their skill and ability. With Bonds, I'm not sure the respect is even there anymore. You're either the guy in the theater rooting for Darth Vader or you're rooting against him. That's it. Although I'd be willing to bet that if Barry Bonds started wearing Vader costume, his fan base would instantly increase by at least 17%. Granted 8% of those people would think he's great at "dunking touchdowns", but it's better than nothing at this point.

And it's not just Bonds. McGwire ... Sosa ... I mean, these guys are credited with SAVING baseball after the strike. While it's a bit of a hyperbole, it's almost incredible to believe that they don't get the love anymore. McGwire is holed up in a bunker somewhere. And Sammy? He probably works at Target now. And no one cares. Collectively, Bonds, McGwire, Sosa & others ... they are The Steroid Crew (allegedly) and they have become the heels of MLB. Without realizing it, they have morphed into the Million Dollar Man, the Iron Sheik and Mr. Sexy. And there's nothing they can do about it. It's crazy to think about. People hating McGwire and Sosa. That's like people turning on puppies and snowflakes. Palmiero you can kind of understand people turning on him ... you know, because of the mustache. But those other guys? Unbelievable.

So anyway, when Barry Bonds comes out and gives his opinion on the Hall of Fame, people smile politely and say, "Oh yeah? That's nice." It's too bad. Because he's the guy you want to tell your grandchildren stories about. But at this point, none of us really know what that story is going to be.

Labels: cheaters, greg, MLB

Randy Johnson is gone. Finally.

And why would I, a huge Yankee fan, be happy to see him go? Because, put simply, Randy David Arbuckle Old Spice Johnson III sucked horse shit. Not since the fall of Kevin Maas had I been this annoyed with any Yankees player (although the postseason A-Rod has been making his case). And when it came to the handsomely mustached Johnson, there were many reasons for my disdain.

First, the Yankees chose to sign RJ after the 2004 season. Why does that matter? Well, with Steinbrenner's unlubed fist firmly entrenched in his asshole, Cashman inked Johnson and immediately declared the Yankees out of the running for Carlos Beltran. A brilliant move, oozing with cunning and foresight for the future of the team. Especially considering they had the young, spry Bernie Williams out in CF, doing his best not to look like Morgan Freeman. So signing (or at least attempting to sign)arguably the best all-around center fielder in baseball, instead of a creepy giant, probably made too much sense. That's not to say I don't love Williams (I do) or that the Yankees would have definitely signed Beltran, but they "settled" for Johnson. While I blame Steinbrenner, Randy also deserves some of the collateral scorn here.

Now in all fairness, yes, the Yankees did "need" another starter. And Randy did have a mullet and an impressive resume. So in theory signing him was all fine and great. Except for the fact that Johnson was 89 years old. And boy did it work out swell. I mean, the Yankees could have signed anyone to go out and give up 8 runs a clip to the Blue Jays. Here was the most dominant left-hander since Koufax getting donkey punched by the likes of Russ Adams. So every five days, he'd head out to the mound, engulfed in mediocrity, and ultimately tax the bullpen. As the runs went up, he'd just stand there on the mound, slumping like a superhero who's lost his powers. When the camera would zoom in, you'd see him sporting the same look on his face that a monkey gets when you try to teach it Spanish.

It should also be mentioned that Carlos Beltran Randy Johnson was awesome in the playoffs. In fact, in one game he started, he almost gave up less than 5 runs. No wait, I'm sorry, he didn't. He sucked.

2005 ALDS vs. LAA: 0-1, 7.1 IP (2 games), 6.14 ERA, 1 BB, 4 K
2006 ALDS vs. DET: 0-1, 5.2 IP (1 games), 7.94 ERA, 2 BB, 4 K

Pretty fucking sweet numbers, right? Yeah.

Anyway, I could go on for another 3,000 words. But the experiment is over and Randy "not Carlos Beltran" Johnson is heading back to Arizona. And some might argue, "but 2005 wasn't completely terrible, right?" And while a quick glance at the stats would lead some non-Yankee fans to agree, a guy like Randy Johnson comes with certain expectations. Most of those center around the word "dominance". A 3.75 ERA isn't exactly that. And 2006? I've seen buckets filled with prostitute vomit look better than his stats.

So while I would have liked the trade a lot more (from a sheer player perspective) if they got Dustin Nippert in that deal instead of Ross Ohlendorf, I was happy with it. The Yankees are making smart moves, subtracting, not adding in this crazy offseason. Rebuilding the minors. And while I would have loved Conor Jackson (never happening), getting the stench of RJ's old ballbag out of that clubhouse was victory enough. And replacing him with Andy Pettite (one of my all-time favorites), well, that's simply boner inducing. That's like replacing bleeding hemorrhoids with cotton candy and sunshine. And I like sunshine. I also like when the Yankees win the World Series. Maybe this will help.

Labels: greg, MLB, Yankees