Player A For the Hall of Fame!

Welcome to the Super-Sized Labor Day Weekend Edition of the Random Thoughts! If this edition is too long for your tastes, split it into three parts and read a different section each day. Oh, screw that...take off the dang skirt and frilly blouse, suck it up, and read the whole damn thing!

Let me start off by saying that, generally speaking, I am a firm believer in the old adage that a player's raw statistics do not necessarily give an 100% accurate picture of the player's ability and value to his or her team. That said, one look at Stephen Hawking Hairston's .207 average with the Cubs and Gopherball Glendon's 7.69 ERA tells you just about everything that you need to know about the performance of each this year. And with this as a backdrop, I present you with the following comparison...

Player A: 18 yrs; .265 avg; .343 obp; .416 slg; 195 HR; 860 RBI; 91 SB; 394 doubles; .976 fld %

Player B: 19 yrs; .262 avg; .337 obp; .328 slg; 28 HR; 793 RBI; 580 SB; 402 doubles; .978 fld %
Now, I know that this is not like choosing between going to South Beach with Brooke Burke or Malibu with Brooke Burns, but, if your team needs a shortstop who are you going to choose?

A difficult decision, no doubt. I mean, it is a little tougher than choosing between playing strip poker with Katherine Heigl (who just may soon be named the official RT hottie # 3) and playing video poker in a room all by yourself, isn't it? Well, let me try and make it a bit easier...

Did I mention that player B was once recruited by Mr. Burns to play for the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant softball team, replaced the legendary Mel Allen as the host of This Week in Baseball and excited fans throughout the land with his pregame backflips, while Player A... well, let's see... hmm... well, player A wore nice glasses, was once traded for Bert Blyleven and another time for Felix Fermin and his middle name is Stuart.

My point is simple. Every time I see one of those stupid commericals for the MLB and DHL "Hometown Heroes" promotion, I am immediately reminded that Player B is, in my mind, baseball's answer to Jim Carrey. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. Ozzie Smith... perhaps the most overrated player in the history of baseball.

Look, I know the guy was a terrific defensive shortstop, I know that he hit a famous home run off Tom Niedenfuer of the Dodgers in the 1985 NLCS, and I know that his acrobatics and playful personality made him a fan favorite. But, hey, Augie Ojeda was once a fan favorite too, and he has about as much baseball talent as Scotty Smalls had when Scotty first moved to the San Fernando Valley. Yet, Smith is often trumpeted as one of the best baseball players of all time and was a first ballot hall of famer, who received a greater percentage of the vote (91.74)than...get this... Joe DiMaggio (88.84), Frank Robinson (89.16), Bob Gibson (84.04), Ernie Banks (83.81), Sandy Koufax (86.87), and Micky Mantle (88.22)!!! From a different era, you say? Well, the Wizard of Oz also outpaced 80's superstars Paul Molitor (85.2), Robin Yount (77.46) (sheesh, looking at Molitor and Yount's numbers makes you think that the sports writers from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel and the Wausau Cow & Plow drank a few too many High Life's and missed the vote), Eddie Murray (85.28) and Ryne Sandberg (76.16).

(And by the way, can someone please explain to me how Willie Mays only got 94.68% of the vote? Who was on the voting panel? David Duke, Raymond Babbitt and Einstein Jones?)

Now, I am sure that Ozzie's numbers do not paint a wholly accurate picture of his overall worth to the Padres and Cardinals and I have no doubt that he was likely a terrific lockeroom leader. I cannot argue with the fact that his speed made things happen and his defense was inarguably responsible for saving a lot of runs and ensuring that John Tudor's ERA remained as low as possible, but could he possibly have brought enough intangibles to the table to make up for his mediocre, at best, statistics? Yes, as the commercial constantly reminds us, he did steal 580 bases, but, believe it or not, that is only good for 20th on the all-time list. Vince Coleman stole 782 bases and you don't see MLB and DHL putting him in commercials. Dr. Taylor's Automatic Tarp Machine Company may wish to take advantage of his marketing prowess, but, thus far, he has received nary a sniff from the baseball powers that be.

The bottom line? Perhaps Ozzie does qualify as a "Hometown Hero," but me thinks that anyone who would vote for Smith over Stan Musial (one of the most underrated platers of all-time) Bob Gibson or Ernie Broligio (let's just pretend that the whole Brock thing never happened, shall we?) is either spending a little too much time hanging out with Slater from Dazed and Confused or has recently over-indulged in Guatamalen Insanity Peppers and been visited by the space coyote. After all, I have no doubt that you had a difficult time choosing between Ozzie and Player A and once you see who Player A is (that's like Marcia Brady in a short skirt... a tease), I think you will be surprised.

* Looking at the Cubs' five nominees also causes me to raise an eyebrow. Ernie. Check. Billy. Check. Ryno. Check. Wait a minute... call off the search for Natalee Hollway and tell Clarice to stop looking for Catherine Martin... Sammy is missing.

I am not going to go through my whole argument regarding why once the smoke clears, the cork is carried away and the Nandrolone is flushed down the toilet, Cubs fans will see clearly once again and admit that Sammy belongs on the short list of all-time Cub greats. Think back to 1998, when 8 out of every 10 fans was proudly wearing a Sosa # 21 (the ninth was wearing a One Dog # 1 and the tenth was lush pitcher Mark Clark's sponsor). Leaving him off the list of nominees makes as much sense as a bunch of no-names from Athens, Thessaloniki and Gyrosville knocking off Team USA in the World Basketball Championships.

* Okay, bad example. After all, it turns out that Franki Valli was right. Greece is the word. They've got the groove. They've got the meaning. It is the time, the place and the motion. And they just kicked the red, white and blue's ass all over Japan. Dwyane Wade the next Michael Jordan? Sure, and Oasis is the next Beatles. Boy, it now seems like a lifetime has passed since Charles Barkey dunked on a poor Angolan sisal farmer and then shoved him halfway back to the sub-Saharan plain in the U.S.'s 489 point victory in the 1992 Olympics.

* I digress...

* My complete "Hometown Heroes" choices appear below, but first, a little talk about the 2005 World Series Champion White Sox. While winning series remains the ultimate goal at this time of the year, the Sox have to be disappointed with the fact that they only took two out of three from the Devil Rays. After all, this is a team that had lost 12 straight road games and an unbelievable 22 of their last 23 away from Tropicana Field!!! For the sake of the Wild Card, it sure is a good thing that the Twins decided to morph into the Cubs prior to their three-game home series against the Royals, before Johan Santana rescued them on Thursday afternoon.

* It is also a good thing for the Sox that the Tigers have hit their first rough patch of the season. Since August 20, Detroit is now 3-7 and generally playing like garbage. So what has changed? Well, let's see... August 20 just happens to be the day that the Tigers acquired Thing Two! Hmmmm... By the way, Neifi is now 5-32 with a single RBI in a Detroit uniform. He has, however, walked twice in 34 plate appearances (a ratio of 1/17), while in Cubbie blue, he walked a total of five times in 241 at-bats (a 1/48 ratio). Keep swinging away boys! There is nothing more exciting that a routine grounder to short!

* Sox fans must feel like they are on the American Eagle, the Whizzer or the Demon these days. One day, Sox fans are puffing out their chests, talking about how Brandon McCarthy is the next Don Drysdale and pinpointing where they plan on standing during the 2006 World Series Championship parade, and the next day they are listening to Morrissey records, talking about how Javier Vazquez in Todd Ritchie with a sombrero and planning their annual vacation for mid-October. Buckle up folks, it is not going to get any better. Unfortunately, this is precisely the way it is going to be the rest of the year.

* Can we all finally agree, once and for all, that Scotty Pods' deal with the devil has officially expired? Pods' 1-13 performance in the Tampa series has lowered his season average to .259. Now that his baseball career is back in the toilet, for Scotty's sake, we can only hope that his St. Pauli girl wife is in it for the long haul. After all, at this rate, she may want to check out what Pablo Ozuna has to offer, leaving Pods with a capper from the Keystone Light or Little Kings bottling plant. Don't say I did not warn you... a career minor leaguer is just that... a career minor leaguer.

* When I was in high school and we played coed softball in gym class, we had one unbreakable rule. No matter where the ball was hit, just keep running. After all, eventually a young lady was going to get involved in the play and there was not a Dot Richardson or Jennie Finch in sight. Somebody had better tell Joey Cora three things: (1) you are no longer in high school and Teresa Winstead does not play left field for the Devil Rays; (2) Paul Konerko makes Verbal Kent seem like a fast runner; and (3) Ozzie is desperately looking for the infamous pictures from the night at the Manhole and you know what will happen to your infalible job security once he gets a hold of those. Somewhere in Chinatown, Wendell Kim is laughing so hard than egg foo young is coming out of his nose.

* Anyway on to the DHL/ MLB Hometown Heroes... For a full list of nominees and to vote, please go to http://mlb.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/mlb/fan_forum/dhl/2006/vote.jsp?from=canada. Voting ends Monday.

AMERICAN LEAGUE

Baltimore Orioles: Cal Ripken Jr. (a true hero in Baltimore, his consecutive game streak overshadows his consistency in the field and at the plate. By the way, if Ozzie Smith is the most overrated player in baseball history, nominee Brooks Robinson -- he of the .267 lifetime average and 268 HR -- is a close second. I wanted to vote for Jim Palmer, but I wear Hanes).

Boston Red Sox: Ted Williams (Roger Clemens responded by taking a trip to Alcor Life Extension's headquarters and throwing a broken bat at Ted's severed head)

Chicago White Sox: Frank Thomas (If I don't pick him, he might refuse to pay me back the money he borrowed. Anyone else look at the Sox nominee list consisting of Aparicio, Fox, Baines, Minoso and the Big Hurt and agree that, for having such a long history, the Sox have han an incredible lack of big time superstars. I mean, Brook Fordyce, Dan Pasqua and Ivan Calderon must have all received honorable mentions)

Cleveland Indians: Jake Taylor (all the guys on DHL's list, except Bob Feller, played before FDR bought his first wheelchair. C'mon DHL, give the kids someone they have actually heard of. How about a Charles Nagy or a Carlos Baerga? I'm choosing Taylor because he had the guts to threaten Herb Dorn in Dorn's own house, and the stones to point to the center field stands, before fooling everyone by laying down a perfect bunt. And he hit .325 in the Mexican League)
Detroit Tigers: Ty Cobb (He was one of the biggest asses to ever play the game. He once went into the stands and pummeled a heckler who turned out to have no hands**, reportedly stabbed a man with a knife for no apparent reason, and got into more fights than Grover Dill and his toadie Scott Farkus combined, but it is awfully hard to argue with his lifetime .366 average).

Kansas City Royals: George Brett (Pine tar not included)

California Anaheim Angels of Los Angeles and Orange County California: Rod Carew (Chuck Finley is automatically diqualified for the famous Tawny Kitaen incident, Don Baylor is kicked out of contention for his 67-85 record managing the Cubs in 2000, Tim Salmon sucks, and just as I am not voting for Jason McElwain for basketball player of the year simply because it is a nice story, I'm also not picking a guy with a 87-108 lifetime record to be the Halos' hometown hero, even if he does only have one hand)

Minnesota Twins: Kirby Puckett (In a close call over Harmon Killebrew. It's too bad Kirby is not here to "see" such an honor (okay, even Trey Parker thinks that was, like Kirby, a little cold))

New York Yankees: Babe Ruth (Yogi Berra said that he would only appear at the awards ceremony if he got paid cash, which is as good as money. And while DiMaggio may have landed Marilyn Monroe, the Babe ate 580 hot dogs. The bobble heads agree)

Oakland A's: Rickey Henderson (Rickey also wins for the Newark Bears, the San Diego Surf Dawgs and the Palos Park Pieces of Crap)

Seattle Mariners: Ken Griffey Jr (few remember how incredible Junior was when he played in the Emerald City. He was so good that he was only 29 years old when he was named to the Major League Baseball All-Century Team. One can only wonder what his career totals would have looked like had the second half of his career not been marred by so many injuries. And it is common knowledge that the strongest thing that he has ever put in his body is Jolt Cola).

Tampa Bay Devil Rays: Jorge Cantu (Yeah, I know he is not actually a nominee, but I am selecting him as a write-in candidate. After all, the guy hit the two-run single that gave the Rays a win over the Sox Thursday afternoon and anyone who is reponsible for ruining Ed Farmer and Hawk Harrelson's night is a winner in my book).

Texas Rangers: Nolan Ryan (Sure, nominee Rusty Greer has that flaming red hair and I have seen that sticker with his face on the back window of cars for years, but I have got... oh, that's Rusty Jones?)

Toronto Blue Jays: Mitch Williams (Let's look at the nominees...Pat Hentgen? Tony Fernandez? Dave Steib? Roberto Alomar? Weren't they all in an early 2000 female-singer- fronted rock band from Madison, Wisconsin? (that's Garbage for those of you who presently look as confused as Homer when he found out that Lard Lad was not a real guy). Oh sure, I can choose Joe Carter, who hit the most important home run in Blue Jay history, but I just can't get past the horror of his two seasons in the Cubs press box, so I'll go with the guy who served up the home run).

NATIONAL LEAGUE

Arizona Diamondbacks: Randy Johnson (I suppose if Ozzie Smith is good enough to be mentioned in the same breath with Ernie Banks, Cal Ripken and other all-time greats, Jay Bell, formerly known as Player A, is good enough to win the D-Backs' Hometown Hero award, but Johnson was just too dang unhittable during his time in the desert)

Atlanta Braves: Hank Aaron (Regardless of whether Barry Bonds surpasses Hammerin' Hank or not, Aaron will always be the all-time home run king in my book. At least until Angel Pagan hits number 756)

Chicago Cubs: Ernie Banks (Now and forever...Mr. Cub)

Cincinnati Reds: Johnny Bench (Let's eliminate Joe Morgan right off the bat for being Percy Weasley in a broadcast booth -- an insufferable git. Regarding the real contenders... Yes, Pete Rose is the all-time hit king. Yes, Frank Robinson's numbers are downright filthy. So, why Bench? Three words...The Baseball Bunch)

Colorado Rockies: The guy who sells Rocky Mountain Oysters behind the left field stands at Coors Field (Hey, most vendors are paid based on their total sales. That said, I can't imagine that the guy who is selling buffalo testicles can compete financially with the guy selling ice cream and the guy selling hot dogs, can you? I mean the ice cream and hot dog guys leave the game with enough dough to buy an autographed photo of John Elway. The oyster guy has barely enough to buy a lock of hair from Jake Plummer's beard. I'm just throwing the poor guy a bone).

Florida Marlins: Steve Bartman (because Dan Uggla hasn't proven it for an entire season yet and I hate Josh Beckett)

Houston Astros: Jeffcraigbagwellbiggio (for 14 years, Bagwellbiggio has been the face of the Astros. Now its Roger Clemens. Oh, brother. I sure miss Jeff's foot-long goatee)

Los Angeles Dodgers: Sandy Koufax (Despite the great tragedy that is the fact that Sandy's career lasted fewer years than David Faustino's, most baseball historians agree that Koufax was probably the greatest pitcher who ever lived. Roger Clemens does not agree. Roger Clemens is an ass. Have I already said that?)

Milwaukee Brewers: Jim Gantner is actually a nominee? Jim Gantner? Really? The same Jim Gantner that sported a lifetime average of .274 with 47 home runs and 568 RBI? The same second baseman whose on base percentage was a Tony Womack-esque .317? Wait, what was I talking about again? Oh yeah. Robin Yount

New York Mets: Tom Seaver (Let's look at the other nominees. John Franco and his orange New York Sanitation Department t-shirt gets the blue collar vote. Tug McGraw, his battle with a brain tumor and his having sired Tim McGraw gets him the health care and country music fanbase vote. Mike Piazza gets the vote of the San Francisco and Halsted Street contingents, not to mention the Indigo Girls fan club. Darryl Strawberry gets the prison vote. All hail Seaver!)

Philadelphia Phillies: Mike Schmidt (The guy upstaged Dave Kingman in the famous 1979 23-22 victory over the Cubs. Dave Kingman!)

Pittsburgh Pirates: Roberto Clemente (Uncle Honus was one of the best players of the first half of the century and can apparently campaign from beyond the grave. Bill Mazeroski hit one of the most famous home runs in baseball history, but otherwise his career mirrored that of Ron Cey. Pops Stargell gave everyone little stars to put on their hats. Roberto gets bonus points because he spent his leisure time helping the less fortunate around the globe and not in a karaoke bar singing "We Are Family")

St. Louis Cardinals: Ha ha ha ha ha ho ho hee hee. Stan Musial

San Diego Padres: Tony Gwynn (Tony is the Padres' all time leader in runs, hits, batting average, on-base percentage and most choclate eclairs eaten in a single sitting. Mmmmm... chocolate eclairs)

San Francisco Giants: Willie Mays (At some point in his lifetime, the Say Hey Kid has served as a guest on Bewitched, a guest host on the Dick Cavett Show and a greeter at an Atlantic City Casino, but he will forever be known as the original five-tool player. Interesting Mays fact to impress your friends: Mays is the only player in MLB history to hit a home run in every inning from the 1st through the 16th).

Washington Montreal National Expos: Asbstention (Okay, when I was a young child, my favorite baseball players included Steve Ontiveros, Mike Krukow, Thad Bosley, and Lenny Randle. But, my absolute favorite player was Montreal Expo lead-off hitter and left fielder Tim Raines. Before taking up residence in the White Sox dugout and at the local all-you-can-eat buffet, Raines was a seven-time all-star who finished his career with a lifetime average of .294, a lifetime on-base percentage of .385, 170 home runs, 980 RBI and 808 stolen bases. Raines, however, apparently was not good enough to make the cut. Current catcher Brian Schneider, on the other hand, did. As long as DHL insists on including a .256 hitter with 37 career home runs and 185 RBIs over a guy who was an MVP candidate seven different seasons, I'm taking the same tact as Milhouse when Bart campaigned to be Springfield Elementary's third grade class president and I ain't voting.

And those, my friends, are the Random Thoughts' Hometown Heroes. Be sure to post your comments on who you think the "heroes" should be below...

Have a great Holiday!!!!

** Today's Pop Culture Trivia: The famous incident involving Cobb's pummeling of a spectator who had no hands was memorialized in the movie "Cobb" with Tommy Lee Jones playing the role of Ty Cobb. What famous musician played the role of the spectator?

Welcome to Suckville

Dusty Baker should and will be relieved of his duties when the absurdity that is the 2006 Chicago Cubs season comes to a close. Let's get that simple fact out of the way before we go any further. Everyone agree? Good.

That said, the question remains...how much is Dusty to blame for what has now officially morphed into a mess the degree of which this city has not witnessed since the 1968 Democratic National Convention or at least since John Shoop and Kordell Stewart were in charge of the Bears' "offense?" Look, for a reason that not even I fully understand, I actually watched the Cubs game on Tuesday evening and listened to Wednesday afternoon's game on the radio. Now, I'd be willing to bet that the rest of you were smart enough to take a pass, haveing immediately recognized that there are much better things that one could be doing with his or her time. Orange Whip probably headed to Kinko's to print up a new batch of Dee Brown Fan Club membership cards. WrigleyBill was probably either trying to convince Mike McCarthy to give him a spot on the Packers' offensive line (trust me, it cannot get any worse than it already is) or caught the first flight to Kansas City to check on his old barnyard pal Todd Wellemeyer. Bearister spent the afternoon trying to figure out why in the world he drafted Marty Booker in the Rick Springfield Fan Club Fantasy Football League and wondering what ever happened to Dennis Kleeman. TheWife skipped the games to read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone for the 187th time (the ending doesn't change, honey, it always turns out to be Voldemort's head hiding under the turban of Professor Quirrell). Shabba Dabba Doo busied himself writing love poems to Bonnie Bernstein. JEB Fins counted his poker winnings. Everyone else lamented the loss of All Hail the Chief as a daily commenter.

Come back Jeff! We miss you!!!

(Look, I'd give the rest of you your 15-minutes of RT fame, except for the fact that you refuse to comment!!!!)

The bottom line is that, in retrospect, I can easily name at least 10,000 things that I should have done instead of paying even the least bit of attention to the Chicago National League Ballclub. Let's see. Head to Fallujah to look for the missing weapons of mass destruction. Share a taco and some Spanish rice with Hannibal Lechter. Throw a cup of ice at Ron Artest. Watch a replay of the 2001 NFL Pro Bowl. Okay, maybe not the Pro Bowl.

Well, it is too late now. As much as I would like to go back and spend my time looking through the photos of the 2006 Tampa Bay Buccaneers' cheerleaders (hint, hint), I cannot rewrite history. I actually watched and listened to the games and what I saw and heard must have been two of the absolute worst baseball games that I have ever experienced. Yes, I have lived through the heartache of Leon Durham, Brant Brown and Bartman. Yes, I have survived the Jaime Navarro, Willie Banks and Ismael Valdes years. And, yes, I have seen Kid Corey and Steroid Sammy and piece of crap Todd Hundley flail wildly and miss at pitch after pitch. But, I cannot remember a two-game stretch as horrible as the last two games. You know, it is a dang good thing that the team has been out of contention since early May and the games, therefore, are ultimately about as important as whether Brad is with Jen or Jen is with Vince or Brad is with Angelina or Angelina is with Jen (now, that is an idea that we can certainly all agree on). Can you imagine living through the last two games, if they actually meant something? I just might have wound up curled in a corner listening to The Wall over and over, wondering how I too can become comfortably numb.

Look, I am not going to bore you with all the excruiating details of the losses. You can take a look at the box scores and play-by-play yourselves (although I encourage you to check out Barbara and Erica and Anna and friends, instead. That's www.buccaneers.com). So I am not going to waste time in explaining how on Tuesday night, the team gave up 4-0 and 5-4 leads, before allowing the Pirates to score twice in the bottom of the 11th inning to win the game 7-6, with the last run coming on a bases loaded walk. How the team had committed four little-league-esque errors during the game. How, on Wednesday afternoon, the team took a two-run lead into the bottom of the 11th, yet still managed to allow three Pirate runners to cross the plate, in a 10-9 loss. Or how the team, at this point, would really be better off packing up and forfeiting their remaining 29 games, when they are now dangerously close to having to play Thing One at second base and call up some 29-year old rookie names Les Walrond to take the hill and pitch a major league game.

What do you mean they have already resorted to that? What's next? Giving Chad Meyers and Augue Ojeda another shot? Bringing back Les Lancaster? Believe it or not, Les is only 44-years old. Why not roll him out there?

Well, here lies the problem. While it is easy to blame Dusty for anything and everything, it would be wrong to do so. As I mentioned in my opening salvo of this post. Dusty should, must and will go. He is a terrible bench manager, refuses to hold his players accountable for both mental and physical mistakes, and makes more excuses than Zack Morris after being sent to Mr. Belding's office. But, how can we blame Dusty for Ryan Dempster's imitation of Dave Smith? How can we blame Dusty for the fact that Ronny Cedeno has as much chance of getting a hit these days as Snakes on a Plane has in winning an Oscar? How is it Dusty's fault that Einstein Jones' has as much chance of making a decent throw from the outfield as Def Leppard drummer Rick Allen?

How can I put this bluntly? The whole team sucks. Period. I've probably used this famous Homerism before, but never has it been more fitting than right now... they are the suckiest bunch of sucks who ever sucked. It isn't just Dusty. The players can't hit. They can't field. They can't pitch. Their ovaries hurt. Heck, most of the players could not sell chocolate chips to Cookie Monster. I believe it was Joey who once told Blossom that she was such a loser that if she entered a loser contest, she would finish second. Think about it. Jim Hendry and Dusty...you're Blossom. And the rest of you schmokes? You're Gimbels. Perhaps a few of you might want to open up a pretzel wagon.

* Memo to Ryan O'Malley, Juan Mateo and Izta, Izta... welcome to Chicago. Gauze pads are on the right. The electrical stimulation machine is in the cabinet below Mark Prior's yeast infection medication. The phone numbers for Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, and Dr. Julius Hibbert are listed on the bulletin board right below Victor Conte's cell number, although we recommend you use Dr. Nick Riviera as he is a heck of a lot cheaper. Should you need it (and you probably will)Ron Santo's old prothesis is in the corner behind Mosies' old piss bucket, although we should warn you that Kerry Wood has already claimed it. See you on the D.L.!

* So, who will replace Dusty as the head man of the Cubs? Given the apparent complete collapse of owner Jeffrey Loria's relationship with Florida Toddler manager Joe Girardi, most seem to believe that Girardi is the odds on favorite. Is Girardi developing a reputation as a baseball's answer to Napolean the pig? Well, yes, in fact, he is. But, you know what? Entering play on Wednesday evening, he has the youngest team in the majors only one-game below .500, on a nine-game winning streak, and sitting only 1.5 games out of the Wild Card. Heck, he can introduce the philosophy of Animalism to the Wrigley Field home clubhouse, build a windmill in left field and train the local pups to be soldiers for all I care, as long as he can keep the Cubs competitive at least until mid-July.

* USC woman's basketball player Brynn Cameron will miss the upcoming season after giving birth to a baby boy this November. Why do I mention this seemingly irrelevant fact, you ask? Because, it turns out that the baby's daddy is none other than Arizona Cardinals' rookie QB Matt Leinart. Leinart, as you might recall, formerly dated Paris Hilton. Doesn't this nice little story raise two important questions... (1) wouldn't you have thought that two famous Trojans would have been able to get one, and (2) if we are to truly believe that young Matt and Paris never reenacted any scenes from King Schlong starring Pam & Tommy, what does that say about the habits of the lovely Miss Cameron?

* Finally, can someone please explain to me what Chet Coppock is still doing on the air? He has been showing up on ESPN Radio 1000 quite a bit lately and is starting to give Silvy and Carmen a run for their money as the dumbest sports radio personality in Chicago (and that is really saying something). Now comes word that Coppock will be co-hosting ESPN Radio 1000's Bears' pregame show with Steve McMichael. Oh lord...

This is the same man, mind you, who on the air recently has been absolutely insistent that the Bears will get beaten soundly by Brett Favre and the Packers on opening day of the 2006 season. Okay, if you honestly think that Green Bay, which enters the season with about as much chance to win the Super Bowl as The Passion of the Christ has in being selected as the feature film at this year's film festival in Jerusalem, is going to knock off the Bears, fine. You are certainly entitled to your opinion.

But, it is Coppock's reasoning that has me shaking my head. According to the big California surfer dude wanna be, the Bears are sure to go down in defeat simply because they do not have anyone who can cover Javon Walker. Huh?

Okay, Chet...I will play your little game. Using that logic, I suppose the White Sox have no chance of winning the Wild Card over the Twins because they can't hit Jack Morris and don't know how to pitch to Kent Hrbeck or Gary Gaetti. The Bulls have no chance of knocking off the Miami Heat in the NBA Eastern Conference this coming year, because they have nobody to guard Rony Seikaly in the post or Glen Rice on the perimeter. And USC will easily win the Pac 10 women's basketball championship because none of the other team's will be able to stop Brynn Cameron from scoring (get it? Oh, I kill me). You see... it may be true that the Bears have nobody who can stop Javon Walker, but that really isn't the point seeing as how Javon Walker is on the BRONCOS!

Idiot.

What's next? Somebody is going to tell me that Rex the Wonder Dog is still the Bears' starting QB?

Oh, brother. It's going to be a long September. I'll tell you what... if you can't find that 2001 NFL Pro-Bowl on VHS, go ahead and send me a copy of season three of Parker Lewis Can't Lose on DVD. Nah, I'm going to check out what Britany Craine is up to...

And don't forget there are two "C's" in Buccaneers. You'll thank me in the morning.

Back From Boston

As most of you know, I spent the early part of this week in Boston, and now that my first liquid-free travel experience is behind me, I can definitively say that traveling is not as difficult as many have reported. In fact, I wouldn't hesitate to say that my Tuesday morning flight home was one of the most joyful air-travel experiences that I have had in quite some time. Oh sure, in typical United Airlines fashion, the flight was grossly oversold, a reality that resulted in my having been smashed between a 19-year old who apparently hadn't bathed since a hip former member of Menudo made women everywhere (and Andy Dick) swoon while Livin' La Vida Loca and a woman who clearly had spent a few too many evenings drowning in a sea of chocolate pudding at the Old Country Buffett. Not to mention, the guy in front in front of me whose considerable talent would put Terrence and Philip to shame. But hey, when faced with the threats that we are faced with today -- with Bin Laden still at large and anti-Americanism on the rise -- simply making it to one's destination without anything having gone wrong, is cause for celebration. I mean, 980 miles flown and not a single snake on the plane!

The highlight of my trip was a Sunday evening sojourn to Fenway Park for the Red Sox - Yankees game. As many of you know, when I travel, I like to visit the local ballpark and I was extremely exicted when I found out that the Sox would be home when I would be in Boston, as it would give me a chance to finally get to Fenway. Of course, once I found out that it was the hated Yankees that would be in town, I was extremely concerned that an available ticket at a reasonable price would be about as common as an African-American man at a Neil Diamond concert and when I first arrived at the park my greatest fears were realized, as it quickly became evident that trying to get a ticket would be like trying to get a Cabbage Patch Kid in the mid 1980's before people realized that they were just stupid-looking dolls.. Scalpers were asking $125-150 for standing room and there were a lot of Yankee fans looking for tickets. At that point, I figured that I would just belly up to the bar and drink a Sam Adams with my new buddies Seamus and Padraig.

Well, I must be living right or something, because an old guy walked up to me and, after confirming that I was neither Derek Jeter or Alex Rodriguez's twin brother and, therefore, cheering for the Evil Empire (okay, so he really asked me if I was related to Randy Johnson. Can't I live in a fantasy world without being reminded every twenty minutes that I will never be asked to play the new hunky doctor on General Hospital?) he offered me a ticket for face value. Don't look back...I was in the door!

Some observations about the oldest ballpark in baseball...

* I have been as critical of what I like to call the "overrated old relic on Addison" as anyone, but I think that I finally truly understand the attraction of Wrigley and the reason why it has become such a tourist attraction. Just being in Fenway was an absolutely amazing experience. The game itself (while tremendously exciting) really did not matter. I was just excited to walk the concourses, cringe at the crumbling concrete and exposed wires and pipes, gaze at the Green Monster in person and listen to more than 20,000 yound men claim that they once kicked Ben Affleck's ass at the Cambridge Rindge and Latin School. The effect was only intensified by the fact that I had what had to be one of the worst seats in the house, firmly behind a pole, and in one of the remaining sections in Fenway that still has its original cracked wooden seats. Walking up to my seat, the feeling as though I had stepped 65 years into the past was awe-inspiring. I half expected to hear people talking about how Orson Welles' newest epic Citizen Kane is a colossal waste of time, how the newest cereal to hit the shelves, CheeriOats, will never make it because it's flavor is too dang bland, and how the Japanese would never, ever actually have the guts to attack the U.S.. And then, upon arriving at my seat and turning around, I fully expected to see Teddy Ballgame manning left field for the Sox. What an experience!

* As amazing as Fenway is, it certainly is not a particularily attractive ballpark. In fact, comparing Fenway's natural "beauty" to Wrigley's is like comparing Jessica Tandy with Christie Brinkley. Sure, they are both old, but you are putting Barry White's Greatest Hits in the home CD player and chilling a bottle of wine before going out to dinner with only one of them. With the ivy, the buildings on Sheffield and Waveland and the lake in the distance, Wrigley truly is a beautiful park. Fenway, on the other hand, while quirky and unique, is, ultimately, rather blah. The Green Monster is, well, really nothing more than a big green wall. Perhaps, if the game had been during the day, it would have been a lot more attractive, but I have to call em' like I see em' and when I saw em' it was dark.

* So, now that I have walked in the same narrow concourses as John Fitzgerald Kennedy and possibly sat in the same seat as a young John Kerry (oh, who am I kidding? Kerry sure as hell wasn't sitting in the right field corner, three rows from the top. He was probably too busy sitting three rows from the Red Sox on-deck circle explaining that he is in favor of tax cuts for the rich, unless, of course, he isn't) am I backing off my belief that it is time to replace the Wrigleys and the Fenways of the world with new, amenity-filled parks? Absolutely not... The old parks certainly have charm, history and are amazing to visit. But, in my opinion, it is still time to enter the 21st century. See Oriole Park at Camden Yards for a ballpark that incorporates the best of both worlds (in other words, keep the ivy, the manual scoreboard and the overall aura and feel... get rid of the posts, falling concrete, troughs, and, while you are at it, the thousands of fans who could care less about the team and only go to the game because it is a great place to pick up chicks).

* The neighborhood surrounding Fenway was filled with cool bars and other places to hang out. I love the way they have essentially "extended" their concourses by making Yawkey Way part of the ball park and open only to ticket holders. Yawkey Way is the street that runs along the first base line and given that you can fit more people in a 1977 Volkswagen Beetle than in the existing concourse, they have essentially incorporated Yawkey Way into and made it part of the park. It is filled with hot dog and sausage stands, souvenier shops and young Bostonians having a good time. Great idea by the powers that be.

* While most fans were upset with the 50+ minute rain delay that we were forced to endure (especially since most of them had to squeeze into the concourse (no report on whether there were any Snakes in a Concourse!), it gave me an opportunity to explore the park and visit parts of that I otherwise would not have been able to see and experience. With nobody in the seats and no security anywhere to be found, I was able to hug the Pesky Pole, touch the outfield dirt and check out the bullpens (although, as hard as I looked, I could not find Kyle Farnsworth's Grey Goose bottle in the Yankee pen). What about the rain you ask? Well, unlike the Wicked Witch of the West, I remain one of the fortunate ones who does not melt.

* Not sure how the tradition started, but the singing of "Sweet Caroline" in the middle of the 8th inning was something to behold. Almost 36,000 fans yelling "Buh, bup, bup, buh" at the top of their lungs was very cool. I wouldn't push it, though. Song Sung Blue can stay on the shelf.

* Most of the Boston fans proudly wore their Red Sox jerseys and, as expected, the park was filled with countless Schillings, Ortizs and Ramirezes. Most obscure? Well, I could go with the guy who personalized his jersey with "Big Papi," I could select the dude with the "Sam Adams" uniform, I could choose the woman who had "MannyMyManny" spread across here shoulders, or I could go with the apparent president of the "Johnny Damon Must Die" fan club, who simply removed the 'A' from his Red Sox # 18 jersey and replaced it with an 'E.' All good choices, yes? Absolutely. But the winner of the award celebrating the man who most wasted his money has got to go with the guy in the Bellhorn #12. The Horn? Selecting a Bellhorn jersey when you could go with a Varitek, Pedro or even a Pokey Reese is a little like choosing to go with a #11 Indian Head sweater immortalizing Jeff Shantz... strike that... a little like going to see the Meryl Streep farce, The Devil Wears Prada, when you can go see -- yep, you guessed it -- Snakes on a Plane!

* The bottom line is that a chance to see Red Sox - Yankees at Fenway is an opportunity that I simply could not pass up. The game was terrific and I suppose it is only fitting that the Red Sox found an excrutiating way to blow the game. In fact, when closer Jonathan Papelbon gave up a ninth-inning, two-out, game-tying single to Derek Jeter on an 0-2 pitch, it might as well have been Ryan Dempster on the hill...or LaTroy Hawkins...or Mel Rojas...or Rick Aguilera. Ultimately, what a great experience to see a bitter rivalry in a true baseball shrine!

* A quick word about Boston, in general. I have to admit that, before my trip, I had a negative opinion of Beantown. I blame it on a kid named Shaun Grady, who lived a few doors down from me on Floor 5A of Briscoe at Indiana University. Simply put, Sean made Kevin Arnold's bully of an older brother Wayne seem like a nice guy. I realize that it is wrong to judge an entire city based on one person, but, hey, I'm only human. That said, like Buena Vista Pictures when they decided that making a movie starring Shaquille O'Neal as a 3,000 year-old genie named Kazaam who rises out of a boom box was a good idea, I was wrong.

What a terrific city. Incredibly vibrant and chock full of history, I can now see why Boston has been called the "Athens of America." There are few things like walking the Freedom Trail, imagining true patriots planning their fight for freedom. If you have never been there, I highly recommend a weekend getaway. And, I am delighted to report that there was not a single snake in sight.

* Finally, while there were no snakes on the plane, there were no liquids either, and, you know what? The policy and the way it is being carried out ultimately makes no sense. Let's start with a few things that I am sure we can all agree on. (1) keeping liquids that can be used to make a bomb off a plane is absolutely necessary. (2) Screening at the security checkpoint for such liquids is equally necessary and all liquids that are found should be immediately discarded. Everyone in agreement? Good.

Let's take a look at the next step, however. Once you have entered the terminal, you are free to purchase and consume any and all liquids that you desire. But, you cannot bring said liquids on the plane. This makes sense in a vacuum, but does not work in reality due to the fact that they do not re-screen immediately before getting on the plane. All they do is remind you that you cannot bring liquids on the plane. Well, if I am a terrorist and I have managed to get my bottle of liter fluid through security, guess what? I'm just going to put my liquid in my bag and walk right on to the plane. It is not like I am going to be thinking "Oh, they said I could not bring liquid on the plane, I guess I better take this kerosene out of my backpack and throw it in the trash." Feeling "secure" on an airplane because of the rule is a little like feeling secure that your autographed Tyson Barrett boxing glove or Mark Buehrle Excuse Guide is real because it came with a certificate of authenticity. Don't you think the scoundrels who are willing to forge an autograph are also willing to, I don't know, forge a certificate, as well?

The bottom line, is that you either have to re-screen prior to boarding or let people bring their water on board.

Not to mention their snake repellent. Now that can come in quite handy!

***We will return to Cubs, Sox, Bears and general sports talk next week. I promise. Have a great weekend!

Not Again!

On the surface, I have very little in common with The Soprano's. I don't live in New Jersey, have never suffered a panic attack or seen a therapist (although my infatuation with Thing 2 is becoming a little scary), I don't know anyone named "Meadow," and, as far as I know I have never whacked anybody. That said, like The Sopranos, it seems like every time the Random Thoughts begins to gain some momentum, a new episode or post is more difficult to find than an explanation for the disappearance of Mark Prior's talent. Alas...here we go again.

This time it is a trip to Boston for work that will sideline me for a few days. That said, expect a fresh, new RT next Wednesday. Until then you will just have to busy yourself watching reruns of Cheers. I'll be sure to say hello to Sam, Diane and Woody for you.

NOTE: A few people who have bookmarked the RT, have informed me that the page does not automatically update with the newest posts when you open it and you have to hit refresh to get my latest musings (especially in Netscape). Please be aware of this problem. I would hate to see you miss even a single So, I Married An Axe Murderer reference...

Chicago Marathon

It was late and I simply could not sleep. Too troubled by the thought of what, thanks to Janet Reno, has likely become of Elian Gonzalez, I lay in bed awake, listening to the cicadas buzzing in the tree outside my window. Finally, at about 12:20 am or so, I got out of bed and headed downstairs hoping that Bad Girls Dormitory** was showing on USA's Up All Night. Upon remembering that Up All Night has been off the air since 1998 (not to mention the fact that was exclusively a weekend delight) and realizing that it was not quite late enough to catch a quality Girls Gone Wild infomercial, I decided to see if I could catch Debra Messing in a pair of knee high black leather boots on a WGN rerun of Will & Grace.

How surprised was I to see that the Cubs were still battling it out with the Astros. Hey, sure I was disappointed that I would not be seeing a bunch of "naughty young ladies from the New York Juvenile Reformatory getting hacked to pieces by a savage bunch of sadists,"** a marketing pitch trying to get me to shell out $29.95 for "Coeds Uncover" or the lovely Debra, but how many more opportunities will I have to watch John Mabry in a Cubs' uniform?

Eighteen inning games just don't some around very often and, fortunately, Tuesday night's epic contained a number of subplots that are definitely worthy of conversation. Besides, it's nice to write about an exciting Cubs victory in a season that has had a few too many moments that have made me feel either like Stan when presented with the opportunity to talk to Wendy Testaburger (Hey, I think I see a cheesy poof in there! And there is a french fry!) or like Carrie when she found out Big was back from Paris with his 26-year old girlfriend (the only reason this was referenced is because, as I write this, thewife is over yonder watching SITC and Carrie literally just vomited -- and all over the beach too).

Anyway, notes from the 8-6 win...

* I've said it before (in this blog) and I will say it again, Malfoy was right. Weasley is our king.
If not for the heroics of the Random Thoughts' favorite red head who is not a roommate of Will Truman and who was not once both married to Cleveland Indians catcher Jake Taylor and the inspiration for Roy McAvoy's comeback (although -- and I write this purely for the sake of self preservation -- if that is you, Tawny Kitaen, reading this, you are really my favorite. I, like all 15 year olds at the time, loved you in the video for Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again." Please don't beat me up), the game would have been over long before Dusty even had a chance to use his entire roster. For those of you too busy helping look for Jon Benet's killer (congrats, by the way) to pay attention, Weasley tied the game with a home run off then-Astro closer Brad Lidge in the 9th and won the game with a two-run single in the top of the 18th. Weasley...thy middle name is clutch.

But can someone please explain to me why he is not playing every day? Look, the RT has long been a big supporter of Weasley, but, truth be told, I have no idea whether he is or should be the Cubs' future everyday left fielder (I, as much as anyone, recognize the need for more power from the corner outfield positions), but, with the Cubs 17 games under .500 and having absolutely no chance at the postseason, the Cubs really should be trying to figure out what they have in Matt. I know that Angel Pagan has done a respectable job when in the lineup, but the bottom line is that he should be playing against everyone. He should be playing against left-handers. He should be playing against right handers. Short guys. Tall guys. Guys who climb on rocks. Fat guys. Skinny guys. Even guys with chicken pox.

And, yes, even guys who love both Milhouse Van Houten and Armour hotdogs.

Heck, he should even be playing in the simulated games with Wood and Prior, although don't we have to assume that Prior is, if not already, certainly soon to be covered in the above chicken pox category (with everything else that has gone wrong, I figure that a fine case of Varicella Simplex can't be that far away).

There just seems to be a magic when Weasley is in the lineup (pun fully intended). In fact, over the last 23 games, the Cubs are 11-3 in games when Weasley starts in left field and only 4-5 in games when he does not (and one of those games is Tuesday night's affair, when, despite not starting, he still managed five at-bats and drove in the team's final three runs). Van Halen is not the same without David Lee Roth, E.R. was never the same without Dr. Greene and the 2006 Cubs are not all they can be without my favorite son of Molly and Arthur patrolling left field. So...memo to Jim Hendry and Dusty...he may not have the power of Matt Williams (nor the tremendous need for Rogaine or Minoxidil), but he ain't Matt Mieske either.

* As a result of Weasley's game-tying home run, Astro manager Phil Garner has announced that Lidge has officially lost his job as Houston's closer. Fear not, Astro fans, Mel Rojas is out there somewhere.

* Give the Cubs a lot of credit for winning the game, but, mistake not, the game featured typical Cub ineptitide. Weasley truly saved the day, as both Mabry and Ronny Cedeno failed to drive the go-ahead run home in the top of the 18th before Matt's big two-out, two-run single. Aramis lead off the inning with a double and Einstein Jones then singled sending Ram to third. With Aramis on third base and no outs, Mabry fouled out weakly and Cedeno grounded out to third. Of course, with the way the last couple of seasons have gone, if the Cubs had been able to get drive the runner home from third with less than two outs, I would have been more surprised than Carol Brady when she found cigarettes in what she thought was Greg's letterman jacket.

* Random Thoughts commeter "WrigleyBill" or "The WB" or "The Little Drunk Frog Who is Embarrassed to Be Associated With Shows Like Cleghorne!, Pepper Dennis, and Beauty and the Geek" wants to know what would have happened if Rich Hill had taken a line drive off the forehead and been forced to leave the game. Well, basically, Dusty would have either had to choose between putting Darren, Yosh or Ollie into the game or just play with eight guys. And I hear that Darren and Yosh were not hustling in practice. Now that the Iniana Hsiers hired Kelvin Sampson as head coach, throwing away their golden opportunity, any chance we can get coach Norman Dale to manage the Cubs?

* Michael Barrett went 1-4 in the game. Nice day off, huh?

* Thank the lord it was the Cubs who played in an 18 inning game and not the Sox. Listening to Bob Brenly and Len Kasper may not be as enjoyable or as soothing as listening to Jimmy Buffett's box set, Boats, Beaches, Bars and Ballads, nor even as entertaining as listening to The Best of Devo or They Might Be Giants, but, overall, I think they do a good job describing the action and keeping the audience in the game. Can you imagine if it was the White Sox who played a game that lasted more than 5 1/2 hours? Let's see... Hawk would blame the umps at least 63 times, remind us all that we have never played in the major leagues at least 163 times and mention how Ozzie is the same guy that he was last year at least 263 times. Oh yeah, and D.J. would actually say at least 12 words. I'd rather listen to Gilbert Gottfried read War and Peace than suffer through that.

* The fact that the Cubs used all 26 players on the roster, including Rich Hill, who was scheduled to start on Wednesday afternoon, forced the team to drag some guy named Ryan O'Malley out of Kitty O'Shea's to pitch for the big boys. A 26-year old career minor leaguer, with mediocre numbers for West Tenn and Iowa, O'Malley pitched eight innings of no-run, five-hit ball (although true to his Cub-upbringing, he did manage to walk six batters). Now, it is readily recognized that a lot of ballplayers rely on Gatorade, Powerade, Jolt Cola or, in the old days, Jason Grimsley's extra special "coffee" to give them a lift prior to taking the field. True to her (and Ryan's) Irish heritage, thewife wants to know whether it was Guiness, Harp, Bushmills or Killian's that allowed a career highlighted by absolute mediocrity to mow down the Astros as easily as Jason Voorhees put away so many promiscious teenage counselors at Camp Crystal Lake.

* One of the most-interesting subplots of the game involved Roger Clemens and, how do I put it mildly...the fact that he is an ass. Clemens plunked Einstein Jones in the first inning and Jones responded by putting down his calculator and protractor long enough to hit a three-run home run off Clemens in the top of the fifth. Cubs rookie Juan Mateo then hit Clemens in the ribs with a fast ball in the bottom of the fifth. Uh oh...

But with Mateo due up in the top of the 6th, Dusty removed the young hurler from the game and pinch hit Ryan The Riot. Not surprisingly Clemens nailed The Riot with a fast ball. Now, a lot of people are criticizing Dusty for taking Mateo out of the game before he would be forced to face the music. Let's objectively analyze...

First of all, let's get one thing straight. Clemens has as much right to criticize as Roger Ebert has to question why John Goodman cannot seem to put the Oreos down. After all this is the same guy who hid behind the D.H. rule in the American League for years firing at will at anyone and everyone from Don Mattingly to Ron Karkovice without any fear of remorse. Let's just be clear on that, okay?

Second, Dusty did the right thing, in my opinion. Yes, the move backfired when Will Oh-Man! and Michael Wuertz gave up four runs in the bottom of the 6th inning, at the time costing the Cubs the lead, but the benefits of taking out Mateo far outweighed the negatives. Simply stated, taking Mateo out allowed the rookie to leave the game with his confidence intact and in position to win the game. Further, the bullpen was rested after Big Z's performance on Monday night. Finally, I have to admit that I was following the game online and, therefore, was not privy to the beanball subplot that was developing, yet my immediate reaction to Dusty's move when I saw it on the computer was "now, that makes sense." Only later did I learn that Mateo's removal from the game was controversial given the likelihood that he was going to take a Clemens heater to the torso.

Hey, criticize Dusty for his handling of the pitching staff in general and for his inability to understand basic game situations and strategy all you want. Call him an inbecile for not playing Weasley every day or for insisting that Thing 2 gets playing time. Shake your head in disgust over his inability to recognize that pulling a double switch in the fourth inning makes about as much sense as Holly, Bridget and Kendra's "relationship" with Hef (hey, I am not saying that it does not make sense from Hef's point of view... but the mystery that is Hef's ability to get the most gorgeous women in the world is perhaps the single biggest head scratcher of all-time). But criticize him for taking Mateo out? Sounds like a reach to me. In fact, I remember a quote about former Iniana coach Mike Davis before he left Bloomington and headed to Birmingham (a quote that I admit has been previously referenced in the RT) that read "If a tree falls in the forest and nobody is there to hear it, can we still blame it on Mike Davis?" Now we know the answer...no... we will just blame it on Dusty.

Besides, now The Riot really has a career highlight. Forget that bases-clearing double last Sunday to win the game against the Rockies, Ryan has now been intentionally plunked by the greatest athlete in the history of sports not named Brett Favre or Michael Vick (snicker). And the roster of famous ex-Cubs is littered with truly noteworthy career highlights. There is Julio Zuleta who will tell his grandchildren about the time he removed the cork from all of the cluhouse's wine bottles just in case Sammy ran out of "Flintstone Vitamins." There is Doug Glanville (during his second stint with the Cubs, after years spent in Philadelphia playing for the Phillies and apparently eating nothing but sawgrass and wheat germ) who was once walking though Woodfield when he was mistaken for Calista Flockhart. And, of course, there is Hee Seop Choi, who spent a magical two weeks holding the bucket under Moises Alou's Hands as Moises prepared for games (he swears he did not look). What can I say? Blame Dusty if you are so inclined, but all's well that end's well.

* Finally, the Cubs may be playing better ball lately, but I hink we can all agree that overall this season has been a quite a disappointment. Huh...I guess it wasn't all Wendell Kim's fault, after all.

**This is the actual synopsis of the movie courtesy of Rotten Tomatoes. Sounds like fun, eh?

Welcome to the 101st Post Spectacular!!

Look, anyone can celebrate a traditional milestone. Sixteenth birthday, fiftieth wedding anniversary, 56 straight games with a basehit, three consecutive weeks without Ozzie dominating the newspaper headlines for offending someone. Been there, done that. But given that the RT has always prided itself on being just a little different, I elected to bypass yesterday's monumental 100th post and save the party for today...the 101st post in the history of the Random Thoughts! Yes, that is right... 101 posts of pure fun. 101 posts chock full of all the things that you love...Hofstra, Dee Brownberg, the occasional Ed Asner and Silver Spoons reference, apparently now-defunct comments from the wizarding world, Things One and Two and, of course, Jessica Alba. It has been one heck of a ride, thus far!

Now I am not asking for streamers and a disco ball and I am not going to suggest that we all drop what we are doing, collect or friends and party like it is 1999 (which actually was quite a laid-back year), but 101 posts is really quite an achievement (self-pat on the back alert). There are now more Random Thoughts posts available for your enjoyment than lifetime episodes of Doogie Howser M.D., Mork & Mindy, the Munsters, Welcome Back Kotter, and, yes, Punky Brewster. Believe it or not, the RT now leaves Gilligan stranded on a deserted island; it turns out that Joanie loves the Random Thoughts a heck of a lot more than she loves Chachi; and The Ropers never had a chance. Heck, with today' post I am now only one behind ALF, and only 16 behind the Brady Bunch, although I am fairly certain that we blow the ever popular Brady Brides out of the water.

Anyway, congratulations to me and thank you to all of you who continue to enjoy the Random Thoughts!

* I hope that I do not have to remind anyone that it was the Random Thoughts that refused to close the door on the White Sox chances to win the AL Central (and if thewife claims that upon seeing the Tigers' lead grow to ten full games early last week, I proclaimed the Pale Hose six feet under, I fully anticipate making like Marion Berry and denying the whole thing). The Tigers had yet to hit a rough patch the entire season and could not be expected to play as well as they had been playing for the entire year. Further, as much as it may kill certain Cubs fans to hear this...the Sox remain a solid ballclub. Sure there are holes, the starting pitchers may be a tad tired from all the innings that they have been asked to throw over the last couple of years, and you just never know when Bobby Jenks is going to open a Scrum-Diddly-Umptious bar, find a Golden Ticket, and wind up stuck in a drainage pipe at the local chocolate factory, but anyone who has already counted the Sox out, may wind up looking a bit foolish.

* And my feelings regarding the Sox have not changed despite last night's loss to the lowly Tigers (RT flashback: the Sox loss to K.C. kind of reminds me of Illinois' loss to lowly Penn State) and the Tigers' consecutive victories over the suddenly punchless Red Sox. The Tigers have lived a charmed life all season, but perhaps their luck is beginning to run out. While the Sox pitching seems to be returning to form, the Tigers suffered a huge blow when second baseman Placido Palanco injured his shoulder and may be lost for the season. Happy days may be here once again for the Sox in the very near future. To use a well-worn cliche, the team just needs to take it one day at a time.

* Now, I have to hope that most Sox fans who do not have the name "Ligge" printed on the side of their mailbox (hey, cardboard boxes have mailboxes too!) do not wish injury on any of the Tiger, Twin or Red Sox players. Yesterday, I made it quite clear, that I, your fearless leader of the RT, would never wish injury or illness on any athlete (or ex-athlete), unless he or she played basketball for the little overrated school in the Northwest and looks an awful lot like the bass player for Black Sabbath (and Hawk Harrelson, of course), but, you know what? I lied. Just as Rex the Wonder Dog suddenly coming down with a case of Torsonic Polarity Syndrome** would give all Bears' fans the benefit of seeing Brian Griese on the field, the team would be equally better off should Cedric Benson suffer from a case of Loser's Lurgy. An awful lot of Bears fans trully believe that this year's team is Super Bowl worthy, but should Rex and Gayle Sayers-Walter Payton-Cedric Benson be the team's primary ballcarrier, I caution you to curb your enthusiasm. Benson the top option? Gimme a break! Jerry Angelo can dream on if he thinks that is the case. After all, Thomas Jones is and for the foreseeable future will remain the Bears' best backfield option.

* Speaking of Random Thoughts predictions, I think I may have seen Juan Pierre in Busse Woods, decked out in a khaki shirt and shorts with yellow neckerchief, trying desperately to light a fire using only dried leaves and a magnifying glass, so technically he was in a different uniform after the July 31st trading deadline. At least it looked like Juan Pierre. I suppose it could have been any 8-year old kid...

* I think I may have also seen A.J. Pierzynski in a Sunflower Girls uniform, but that is another story for another day. What's that old phrase about diff'rent strokes?

* Oh yeah, A.J. can get injured too. Maybe someone will hit him in the mouth.

* Concerned with the inexperience of his pitching staff and the possibility that his young arms may tire as the season winds down, Tigers' manager Jim Leyland is reportedly considering going to a six-man rotation. Most "baseball men" are readily criticizing Leyland for even considering such an unusual move. Excuse me, but isn't it Jim Leyland who has had an absolutely fabulous managing career, including almost 1,200 career wins and two MLB Manager of the Year awards? Isn't it Leyland who lead the Pirates to three straight National League Championship Series and won the World Series with the Marlins in 1997? Doesn't such success at least partially insulate you from criticism? Unless the "baseball men" who are criticizing him are Abner Doubleday, Babe Ruth and Terence Mann, I ain't listening. With such a young team, Leyland is bound to have to deal with some growing pains, he is just trying to make the best of what can be a difficult situation and deal with the inevitable facts of life.

* Quick...which pitcher has the most wins in the American League since the start of the 2005 season? Did you answer Johan Santana? Randy Johnson? Mark Buehrle? Mike Mussina? Ebby Calvin "Nuke" LaLoosh? Hard to believe, but it is Jon Garland who is at the head of the class with 31 wins. In fact, Garland has the second most wins in the AL since the start of the 2004 season, behind only Santana. That is almost as hard to believe as the fact that Jim Hendry and most major league experts once considered Angel Guzman one of the top-five pitching prospects in the entire minor leagues.

* According to Jim, Guzman had all the tools (and the only real tools that Angel has shown so far are those that can be found at your local home improvement warehouse). Somebody better remind the Cubs GM that the majors is a different world. Guzman has largely looked clueless upon being brought to the majors. Any chance that is actually Jose Guzman out there in Cubbie blue? Now that I think about it, practically all of the Cubs' recent front-line prospects have largely looked about as prepared to play in the majors as the jawas were when attacked by the tusken raiders. I'm afraid of what this means for poor young Felix Pee-Ay. I suppose we just have to continue to have hope and faith that he is the next Lou Brock and not the next Damon Buford.

* I hate to beat a dead horse, but as long as I am boring you with statistics today, I'd like to take this opportunity to pile on Rex the Wonder Dog. Yesterday, I referenced Rex's 53.8% completion percentage. Not to frighten you or anything, but let me warn you that such a percentage is lower than Kordell Stewart's, Kyle Boller's and Joey Harrington's. Oh yeah, it is also lower than Michael Vick's, who despite the fact that in the last couple of years, he has single handedly caught Saddam Hussein, prevented the recent Britian to the U.S. airplane bombings, prevented the attempted assassination of then candidate for the west wing David Palmer, and created the I-Pod, high definition televions and TiVo, completes passes about as often as circa 2002 Marlon Brando passed up a trip to the buffet.

* When talking about which Chicago athletes are more likely to spend an evening in the E.R. after suffering from a freak ironing or gardening accident than either at home reading the scouting report or playbook or hanging at the local watering hole looking for their very own Annie Savoy, Mark Prior, Kerry Wood and Rex are deservedly the first names mentioned. Well, what about Mike Brown? Brown is seemingly always suffering from some malady or another, but, until recently, has not been mentioned in the same breath with the other occupants of the Windy City's M*A*S*H unit. Now comes word that Brown has an achilles injury and, despite Brown's insistence that he will be ready to start the season, the fact that he is suffering from yet another affliction has got to concern defensive coordinator Chico and the man who makes the ultimate decisions for the team, Lovie (yes, we Bears' fans are relying on a Chico and a Lovie to bring Chicago another Superbowl title). The Bears' secondary already contains a guy in Peanut Tillman who has about as much chance of preventing an opposing reciever from catching the ball as Jan does in holding on to a boyfriend when Marcia enters the room (you did not think that I was going to say Alice, did you? Hey, at least they are keeping it all in the family) and now they may be forced to play without Brown? What can Brown do for you? Let's hope the answer is not "nothing."

* Corey-o-Meter: It has been quite a while since we last checked in with everyone's favorite ex-Cub centerfielder not named Doug Dascenzo. Corey continues to have a solid season, hitting .282 with 12 home runs, 43 RBI and 37 stolen bases (second in the AL). Kid Corey still strikes out a little too much, but his plate discipline is seemingly beginning to blossom, as he has found himself walking back to the dugout with his head down only 19% of the time, compared with 26% of the time in both 2004 and 2005.

* Random Thoughts daily commenter Wrigley Bill has opined that the NFC Central will be won by the team who sucks least. Well, the Minnesota Vikings are well on their way to being the team that sucks most. First, the team loses rookie starting linebacker Chad Greenway for the season with a torn ACL and now comes word that career malcontent Koren Robinson has been charged with drunken driving. Robinson, who is reportedly already in the NFL's substance abuse program and was suspended last year for four games, faces a season-long suspension should he be found guilty. The injury to Greenway really cannot be controlled, but Viking fans have got to be concerned about the character of the players that call Minneapolis home. Last year, they suffered through the love boat debacle and things are not starting off on the right foot this season. Of course, signing an idiot like Koren Robinson when you are trying to leave your team behavioral problems in the past is a little like hiring Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa and Barry Bonds to head up a new commission to rid baseball of steroids. Nothing but good times in the land of Minnesota football these days.

* The Vikings were not going to win the division this year anyway. At least not with Brad Johnson at quarterback. Brad is the only guy in the NFL, besides Curtis Martin, not only to have dated each of the Golden Girls when they were still in high school (yep, even Sophia) but who also knows for certain whether Mrs. O'Leary's cow is actually responsible.

* Most of us who listen to Chicago sports radio are quite familiar with the voice of Marty Jones (no, that's Smarty Jones who lives in Kentucky and does nothing but eat 24 hours a day and score 227 ladies a week). Marty does the traffic reports on ESPN Radio 1000 and generally does an excellent job warning us that Bob Huggins has refused to take a taxi once again and is speeding up the Edens and to watch out because Mel Gibson and his entourage just turned his luxury car onto Addison . But, what is so dang funny? Is she watching the South Park movie in the studio? Is she listening to an old Sam Kinison recording? Did Dusty just say that the Cubs will be just fine once they get all their horses back? Marty simply cannot make it through an entire traffic report without starting the laugh. Not positive what is going on in her studio, but I'd sure love to know.

* Finally, I tried Red Bull the other day. Still no wings.

Cheers!

**Two trivia challenges today. First, in which television show was Torsonic Polarity Syndrome introduced and what is it? Second, I have hidden the name of 52 different television shows in this post (some not hidden very well). How many can you find?

How About a Case of Dropfoot?

Yes, I know that it is only preseason. I know that it means about as much as Paris Hilton's vow to remain celibate for one whole year (alright, after last week's Paris-o-Rama and today's mention, I promise that I will get off Paris for at least a while. Get off... ho, ho, hee, hee. And I thought picking on Wood and Prior was a layup...Paris is just so easy. See). And, I know that Rex the Wonder Dog was taking snaps from some guy named Lennie Friedman rather than O-Line mainstay Olin Kruetz (how much of a downgrade is that? Well, let's just say that while Kreutz spends early February hanging out on Waikiki Beach with Shaun Alexander and Peyton Manning, looking for Steve McGarrett and Danno Williams, and strapping on the pads only to strut his stuff in the Game-At-The-End-Of-the-Year-That-Absolutely-Nobody-But-Mike-Patrick -Joe-Thiesmann-Paul-McGuire-and-a-Bunch-Of-Overtanned-Hawaiians- Care-About, while the other likely spends his February baking hamantaschen in preparation for Purim and filling in for Rabbi Hyman Krustofski at Temple Beth Springfield). But, that was bad.

But, raise your hand if you are really surprised. Those of you who have ridden the Random Thoughts train since it first left the station last August (when it was distributed as a weekly e-mail newsletter) already know of my befuddlement with those who proclaim that Rex the Wonder Dog has the potential to be the next John Elway. More like the next Jonathan Quinn. It was a little over a year ago, when I wrote the following (and I quote)...

"Rex the Wonder Dog...I'm not sure what I am missing here. All of Chicago seems excited about this guy and seems to think that he is going to be a great QB. I just don't see it and never have."

My opinion certainly has not changed.

I mean...really...what exactly is it about Grossman that gets a lot of fans so excited? Could it be his career 53.8 completion percentage or his four touchdowns in eight career games? Perhaps it is his per game average of less than 163 yards or his career quarterback rating of 68.8 (by comparison, Jeff Blake has a career quarterback rating of 78.0, Chad Hutchinson's is 69.1, and even Tom Yinessa had a career QB rating of 72.0 (please, please, please...somebody understand this reference. Anybody?**)). Maybe it is the fact that he reportedly crushed Kerry Wood and Mark Prior in winning the 2005 Chicago Simulated Games Championship (Kerry took the "throwing off flat ground" title, Mark won the towel throwing contest, but Rex kicked both of their asses in the kissing Me-sin Me-hammed's butt, holding a clipboard and wearing a hat backwards, and burying a bone events).

And so now the sports airwaves are buzzing with the possibility of a "quarterback controversy." Lovie, however, says that there is no controversy and I agree with him 100%. I mean, how can there possibly be a controversy? Brian Griese, he of the 63.1% completion rate, 218 yards per game, 103 touchdowns in 75 career games and lifetime 84.8 QB rating, has got to be the unquestioned starter doesn't he? I mean, you wouldn't listen to a Mariah Carey album if there was a Beatles record available, you wouldn't pay money to see "From Justin to Kelly" if "Usual Suspects" was showing, and you certainly would not leave Jessica Alba alone on the couch to go see Rosie O'Donnell's Happy Meal toy collection, would you? Oh yeah, we live in Chicago and Thing 2 is still getting at-bats. Never mind.

Look, I never wish injury on anyone (ok, maybe Adam Morrison and possibly Hawk Harrelson), but, truth be told, the best thing that can happen for the Bears' Superbowl aspirations is Rex gets caught with a bad can of Alpo or injures his paw or has some kind of a freak accident that results in his having to wear one of those cone collars, like Santa's Little Helper after Mr. Burns' oil derrick destroyed Bart's treehouse and SLH was forced to visit Dr. Nick. Of course, should the Bears be forced to put all of their eggs in Griese's basket, we better hope that Terrell Davis does not have any parties, Griese keeps his dogs off the stairs and all Jose Cuervo, Jack Daniels and Zima is removed from Halas Hall.

Like I said, I never wish injury on anyone that does not look like a reject from the movie Boogie Nights or whose on-air persona makes me long to hear Joe Carter's voice, but everyone sing along with me...

Bear down, Chicago Bear
I hate to beg but break your leg
or tear up your knee.

Bear down, Chicago Bear
Avian flu and measles too
will keep you off the field

We'll never forget the way you broke your ankle
Well, at least you're better than Craig Krenzel

Bear Down, Chicago Bear
With you, we'll never wear the crown
You just aren't very good
I'd trade you for Vince Evans if I could
Chicago Bear, Bear down!!

A few notes...

* Nice to see the Cubs fight back and win a game on the road on Sunday. Nicer still that Ryan The Riot gets a career highlight to show his grandkids with his bases clearing eighth-inning double. Two years from now, Ryan is more likely to be the 2008 American Idol winner than he is playing everyday for the Chicago Cubs and, unfortunately, shaking Ryan Seacrest's hand does not count as a career highlight. (Thank you to Random Thoughts non-commenter Todd for noticing the spelling of Ryan's last name and for christening a new RT nickname).

* Sean Marshall went out on his first rehab assignment since being put on the DL with an oblique injury in late July. The young Cubs hurler pitched only three innings yet still managed to give up five walks. Yep, looks like he is ready to rejoin the Cubs' rotation.

* It is difficult to believe that just four or five short years ago, current Cubs' farmhand Jerome Williams was considered one of the most promising pitching prospects in the minor leagues. Of course, fortunately for San Francisco fans, Giants' GM Brian Sabean was able to unload Williams and David AArdsma on Jim Hendry and the Cubs, receiving in return LaTroy Hawkins and cash. Williams...sucks. AArdsma...sucks. Hawkins...sucks. Cash... Mmmmmmmmm cash...

Anyway, with Sunday night's three-inning, six-run, 10-hit, 3-walk performance, Williams now has an unfathomable 1.68 walks and hits per inning ratio with Iowa. That, my friends is bad. How bad? Well, let's just say that it is a little like having a career quarterback rating that is only 1.1 points higher than Cade McNown's. Did you hear that Wonder Dog fans? I said 1.1 points higher than Cade McNown...

Jerome's downfall is stunning, but not quite a stunning as the thoroughly depressing demise of the career of poor Dustin Diamond. Six weeks or so ago, RT commenter WrigleyBill noted that Diamond was hawking t-shirts in order to raise enough money to keep his Wisconsin house. Now comes word that Diamond claims that a woman, armed with a can of mace, broke into his hotel room in Nebraska (Nebraska, really. It is not code to keep thewife sane) in order to steal his Playstation video games. Dustin claims that he was able to apprehend the scofflaw (scofflette?) and hold her at bay until the police arrived.

Can this possibly be true? Can the man who is responsible for the famous dance "The Sprain," who bucked the odds to win the "Miss Bayside Pagaent," and who gave up his right to be Bayside's valedictorian because he knew how much it meant to Jessie (and look how far her hard work in high school got her... all the way to the Cheetah Club) really have fallen this far? Sure, he kicked Horshack's butt on Celebrity Boxing, but where is Zack when he is needed most? Slater, we always knew, could not be counted on, but Zack? How sad.

* Finally, it appears as though Kate Hudson is reading the Random Thoughts! Four days after comparing the possibility of Tyson Barrett hitting in the leadoff spot to Kate's marriage to Chris Robinson, word is spreading that the two love birds are splitting up. My guess is that Hudson has realized for years that she was married to a pot-smoking, 68-pound ugmo, but, upon reading my analogy thought to herself "holy cow, can it really be that bad?" Yes, Kate, it is. But I hear Axl Rose may be looking...

***Today's Pop Culture Triva Questions (you probably will immediately know the answers or will have absolutely no idea what I am talking about): For what team did Tom Yinessa play? Who starred as team owner Diane Barrow? Who starred at running back and, later General Manager T.D. Parker? (and how lucky is Shannon Tweed, who played Christy Fulbright, to escape from the set with her life...you know how T.D. likes them long legged blondes). Can you name any other players who shared a lockerroom with Yinessa?

Spring Break Shark Snake Attack on a Plane!

Just when you thought it was safe to once again watch the Cubs without making sure that you had a double-ply barf bag within easy reach, the pitcher formally known as Mark Prior took the mound against the Brewers. The Cubs entered the game 11-5 in their last sixteen and since getting swept by the National Expos in Washington, have generally looked like a real major league baseball team. They were getting big hits, making key pitches, and Einstein Jones had gone a full two months without getting doubled off second base.

Three innings later, all the good vibes that have surrounded the team in the last couple of weeks, have faded away like Prior's once vaunted talent.

Can someone please explain to me how a pitching staff can give up only eight measley singles in an entire game and still manage to give up eight runs? Really take a moment to think about how amazing that it. Oh yeah, perhaps it was the four walks, hit batter, and wild pitch served up by Prior whose has about as much control on the mound these days as Mel Gibson has after being presented with a couple of pints of Foster's (Coffee? Beer.) Of course, the two walks given up by rookie Juan Mateo and the two errors committed by the Cub defense certainly did not help matters either.

Nice to see that the more things change the more they stay the same. It is the Cubs, after all. Better stay out of the water, after all.

* The Cubs have some key decisions to make this offseason. Among the most important is deciding whether to sign Juan Pierre to a new contract. With Felix Pee-Ay seemingly having lost at least a little shine off his the-next-Willie-Mays aura, the Cubs will need to think long and hard about who next season's lead-of hitter will be. Will the young Pee-Ay be given a chance or will the team bring back Pierre and his .322 on-base-percentage?

How about Michael Barrett as the team's 2007 lead off hitter? Sure, at first glance, hitting Barrett lead-off seems to make about as much sense as Kate Hudson's marriage to 74-pound Chris Robinson (and if you take away his dime bag, he probably tops out at about 72 pounds), but, isn't the goal of the lead off hitter to get on base and set the table for the rest of the lineup? Believe it or not, Barrett is the major's top hitter when leading off an inning, sporting a nifty .459 batting average (in 74 at-bats) and .529 on-base-percentage. Do I really believe that the Cubs should consider placing Barrett at the top of the order? Well, no...wait a minute, why the heck not? It's been 98 years since Joe Tinker's team leading six home runs powered the Cubs to their last World Series title. Why not try something a little different? I mean, I cannot imagine that the producers of Dancing With the Stars actually thought that the show would last long enough for viewers to learn that J. Peterman is, in reality, one heck of a dancer. You have got the figure that even the best case scenario had the show replaced by reruns of Wife Swap before everyone realized that, yes, that is the former youngest member of New Kids on the Block prancing around the stage in a lime green tutu. Yet, it became the #1 show in the latter half of 2005.

Here's to thinking outside the box!

* The Cubs also have a big decision to make regarding the future of Aramis Ramirez. Ramirez, who signed a $42 million, four-year deal before last season, has the right to opt-out of his contract and become a free agent after this season. Given that Ramirez just turned 28 years old and you can pencil in 30-35 home runs and 85-100 RBI per year, you would think that locking up Ram would be a no brainer. Especially, seeing that Aramis has finally stabilized a position that had seen stalwarts like Shane Andrews, Willie Greene, Steve Buechele and Luis Salazar each have a turn since Santo manned the hot corner in the early 1970's.

With Ramirez, however, it is really not the simple. While, to his credit, he has worked exceptionally hard on his defense since coming over from Pittsburgh at the trading deadline in 2003, he runs hard to first about as often as Cade McNown offers to give up his parking space to the handicapped. And is it any wonder that Ramirez has heated up as his "pending" free agency has gotten closer and closer? I have genuine mixed feelings about what to do with Aramis. On one hand, taking his bat out of the lineup sounds like a terrible idea, while on the other hand, nothing can be more frustrating than a guy who simply will not hustle.

Now, that is not to say that the Cubs should sacrifice talent and genuine ability for a guy who will bust his tail (in other words, he may try really hard and play the game with the gusto of an 11-year old, but Ryan Theriot has spent the better part of the last two seasons where he belongs...in Des Moines). In fact, the commonly-expoused adage that sports fans in the blue-collar city of Chicago are satisfied as long as a guy puts forth a maximum effort has about as much validity as Paris Hilton's claim that she has only slept with two men. How about a guy with talent and desire? Is that too much to ask for?

The bottom line is that I would keep Ramirez around, but only if management stops kissing the players' asses and grows a spine. Don't want to run hard to first base? Well, Aramis, guess what? You will not have to while your ass is parked on the bench safeguarding Weasley's magic wand, Big Z's Ritalin and Prior's 45 of Bruce Springsteen's "Glory Days." You don't hustle. You don't play. It should be that simple.

* Speaking of Paris Hilton, her claim that she has only slept with two men, begs the question... who are the two [un]lucky souls (out of roster that allegedly includes Oscar De La Hoya, Brian Urlacher, Edward Furlong, Vincent Gallo, Matt Leinart, and Nick Carter) who have explored more of Paris than even Charles De Gaulle? We know for certain that one is former boyfriend Rick Saloman, as more people have witnessed "One Night in Paris" than have seen all 150 episodes of the truly funny, yet unfortunately cancelled Malcom in the Middle combined. Further, isn't it safe to assume that the other is either former fiance Paris Latsis or a certain Chicago Bear who was self-described as just a "friend?" That said, it appears as though the Arizona Cardinals are presently discovering what Paris has long known. Matt Leinart simply cannot close the deal. (Credit to Boers and Bernstein for this hilarious line. Hey, after countless shows, they were due...)

* As mentioned above, Ramirez was traded to the Cubs shortly before the 2003 trading deadline. July 31 is always an exciting date on the baseball calendar, as teams look for that one piece that will put them over the top. But, how much of an impact do trading deadline deals, especially those involving starting pitchers, really have? The truth is, such deals usually have about the same level of impact as the Blackhawks signing of Dmitri Icantbelievetheystillhaveateamov. Unbelievably, no starting pitcher who has been traded at the deadline has won a post season game since Hootie and the Blowfish still had a career that did not include restocking the shelves at Home Dept and O.J. Simpson became more well-known for trying on a too-small black glove than for his seminal role as Detective Nordberg. Yes, it was the magical fall of 1995 when David Cone won a game for the Bronx Bombers and Ken Hill picked up a victory for the Tribe in the playoffs. That's an amazing 10 years since a real post-season difference maker was acquired as the calendar turned to August and is almost as inceredible as giving up only eight singles in a ballgame, but still managing to give up eight runs.

In other words, I wouldn't bet my money on Greg Maddux putting the Dem Bums on his shoulders and leading the team to the promised land.

* Finally, I recognize that I have asked a lot of questions in today's post that are extremely difficult to answer. Should the Cubs bat Tyson Barrett lead-off? Should the North Siders let Aramis walk? When exactly did Mark Prior turn into Jamie Navarro? Did Paris let Mike Brown and Hunter Hillenmeyer watch? But I have saved the toughest question to answer for the end. What would be worse... getting stuck in the waters off Florida during spring break with a hungry group of sharks or getting stuck on a cross-oceanic flight and finding out that some lunatic has released scores of poisionous snakes? Oh yeah, you can bet that if I was sitting at a local establishment eating chicken wings and watching Gunston, Grimace the Hilltopper and the Blue Blob cheer on their favorite teams in the best sporting event of the year (no, not the Rock, Paper, Scissors World Championship!), I'd have the whole bar screaming "Snakes on a Plane!!!!" at the top of their lungs. Now, that's entertainment!

By the way, as I write this, there are precisely 215 days, 21 hours and 57 minutes until the start of the Madness. For those of you scoring at home (please say hello to Paris for me), that's only 18,655,080 seconds.

Have a terrific weekend.

Excuse Me?

With the White Sox nursing a 3-2 lead in the bottom of the 4th inning, last Sunday, Jose Contreras made the exact pitch that he needed to make. Three doubles and a walk had plated a run for the Blue Jays and left runners on second and third with only one out in the inning. Showing the composure of a grizzled veteran who has pitched in the most pressure packed situation possible (The World Series? Hell, no! I said pressure. Try pitching at a dusty Havana ballyard for the Industriales, where one bad pitch can find you wrapping cigars in a run-down Camaguey sweat shop or, worse yet, picking raisins and potato chip crumbs out of Castro's beard) Contreras got Toronto catcher Bengie Molina to hit a weak ground back back to the mound. The second out of the inning was in the books and it appeared as though the Sox might be able to escape with the lead.

And then Blue Jay third baseman Aaron Hill strolled to the plate and what happened next, to the best of my knowledge, has not happened since Harry Doyle was reviewing the stat sheet following an especially lackluster Cleveland Indian offensive performance. What I heard next, not only caused me to replay the Hill two-run single on the TiVo six or seven times so I could be sure that my ears were not playing tricks on me, but also had me turning to thewife, increduously asking "did he actually say that?"

Hawk Harrelson reacted to the Sox' reversal of fortune by exclaiming "G-d damnit!" Stay classy Hawk!

At least when Doyle used such "profanity," he was reasonably certain that his audience was roughly equal to the number of people who thought that the Anna Nicole Smith show was a good idea.

Hawk simply does not have that luxury. I understand that even most White Sox fans would rather listen to a Margaret Cho monologue than listen to the insufferable know-it-all and his "partner," but it is only natural to keep the sound on when watching a ballgame. After all, what are one's options? I've said it before and I will say it again. The only thing worse that the Sox television announcers... are the Sox radio announcers. Not a Ernie Harwell, Marty Brennaman or even a Ronald Reagan in sight.

Look Hawk, the Sox won the World Series last year. This isn't 2004 anymore, when there were more people (11) in the on-site U.S. Comiskular lock-up than actually in the stands (10), and most of the remaining Sox fans were too busy making sure that their relatives were not on that night's episode of Cops to check out whether Bartolo Colon would actually climb out of the donut box long enough to make his scheduled start. It's 2006. Jim Thome is swatting home runs and knitting afghans for homeless children. Jermaine Dye is mashing the ball all over the yard. Mark Buerhle is... is... is... Jim Thome is swatting home runs. People are paying attention. Act like a professional.

* Speaking of baseball announcers, in my opinion, after a somewhat rocky start, Bob Brenly is doing a nice job in the Cubs' television booth. That said, I miss Steve Stone, who remains perhaps the greatest baseball colorman that I have ever heard. I think most baseball fans would agree that Steve's sense of humor, coupled with his unrivaled understanding of the game and uncanny insight, made for an absolutely terrific broadcast. Now, fortunately, Steve has not gone the route of J.D. Salinger and Alton Benes** and diasppeared from the public eye. I am happy to report that if you enjoy Stone's analysis as much as I do, you can hear him talk baseball on Tuesday afternoons on 670 The Score (if you can only put up with Boers and Bernstein's incessant giggling and all-too-often nonsensical rambling).

But, when did he get so gosh-darn arrogant? Stone talks to callers like Lucious Malfoy talked to Dobby the House Elf. It is a little uncomfortable to listen to, but Stone's baseball acumen makes it bearable. Stone is to baseball analysis what E.F. Hutton was to stock brokerage in the early 1980's before corporate misconduct and money laundering on behalf of organized crime caused an immediate and complete fall from grace that hadn't been equalled until Maurice Clarett decided to cruise around Columbus better armed than Puff Daddy at a Death Row Records invitation only party (oh yeah, there is that Enron thing, too. Noe to mention Hugh Grant and the lovely Divine Brown. Talk about staying classy!) Simply stated, when Stone talks, people listen.

And on Tuesday afternoon, Stone had some very interesting things to say. First and foremost, he believes that, despite a seemingly never-ending stream of pitchers who understand neither the importance of getting ahead in the count nor the value of varying location of their pitches, Larry Rothschild is one of the finest pitching coaches in the game and should be retained by the Cubs regardless of whether next year's skipper is Dusty, Joe Girardi, Lou Pinella, Herman Franks or the ghost of Leo Durocher. I have certainly been critical of Rothschild in the past and was quite suprised to hear Stone's glowing praise. I suppose I had better give him the benefit of the doubt and trust that Angel Guzman, Carlos Marmol and Jerome Williams's failures are not the fault of Rothschild, but rather that the aforementioned hurlers are just...well...idiots (Rich Hill would have fit into the all-brain-surgeon category as well, before his recent epithany during which he has become less Jeff Fassero and more Barry Zito).

Stone also commented that if Marmol is ever able to harness his command that he could become a top-of-the-rotation, starting pitcher for the Cubs. His stuff is simply that good. Of course, everyone said the same thing about Juan Cruz and, ultimately, he was shipped to Atlanta for two stiffs and an empty tube of lipstick left behind by Jane Fonda after Ted sold the team to spend more time on his yacht.

Finally, when asked what should be the Cubs top three priorities this off season, Stone mentioned the following: (1) signing an every day left fielder with genuine power (he specifically mentioned Carlos Lee, Alfonso Soriano and Gary Sheffield); (2) signing a veteran starting pitcher to supplement the considerable young talent; and (3) are you sitting down? Resigning Kerry Wood to an incentive-laden contract.

According to Stone, Wood is just about the most popular player in the Cubs' clubhouse, a recognized leader, and a testament to perserverance (unlike Prior who exhibits all the toughness of Herb Dorn before he ditched his plans to become an interior decorator and started taking ground balls off his chest, biceps and shoulders), nobody, and I mean nobody, who is in the know would claim that Wood has not done everything in his power to get healthy and once again return as a productive member of the Cubs' staff). I personally have mixed feelings about whether Kerry should be brought back to the North Side. One one hand, Kerry may be perpetually injured and his command may be woefully inconsistent when he does toe the rubber, but imagining the Cubs without Wood is like picturing the band Poison without the able vocal talents of Bret Michaels. Sure, overall, you may continue to suck, but without Michaels, Talk Dirty to Me just would not be the same. Ultimately, I (uncomfortably) think that the Cubs should keep Kerry if he will take a low base, performance-based deal. He may be an injured Cub...but he is our injured Cub.

Should the Cubs consider resigning Wood or cut their losses and let him walk? Post your comments below...

* Speaking of Wood, thewife and I attended a recent game and I was one of 500 random lucky winners who got to take home an autographed photo of the Cubs future 8th inning set-up man. Sure I would have rather won a 1969 Ernie Banks jersey, a 1984 Ron Cey mustache trimmer or a 1998 Sammy Sosa bottle of Chardonnay (now with extra cork!), but I'm sure that the Wood photo will look very nice proudly displayed in my basement. Sure, the marketing folks with the Cubs tried to get me to spend a couple hundred dollars to upgrade to the autographed Kerry Wood MRI machine, but I gladly took my photo, bought a couple of frosty malts and called it a day.

* I agree with those of you who balked (what in the heck were you trying to pick-off a guy at first with the bases loaded in the first place, Buehrle? Where was the runner going to go?) at the idea of Thing Three as a nickname for new Cubs' shortstop Cesar Izturis. I am also embarrased to have wrongly associated The Noid with Little Caesar's, when it was pizza from Dominio's and not Little Caesar's that was apparently amazingly resistant to the Noid's evil whims. That said, kudos to Random Thoughts commenter "Shabba Dabba Doo" who coupled Wrigley Bill's nickname suggestion of "Little Cesar" with my "Pizza, Pizza" nickname idea and came up with "Itza, Itza." So it shall be done.

* Speaking of Buehrle, isn't it probably time to publish a second edition of the best-seller "They Were Stealing Signs... The Ump Was Blind... They Took My Greenies Away: Mark Buehrle's Guide to Pitching Excuses?" With Buehrle's uninterrupted series of poor outings over the last two months, the first edition has got to be wearing thin by now. In fact, the only excuses that Buehrle seemingly has not offered include (1) it's not me out there wearing #56 for the Pale Hose. It must be Glendon Rusch and a bottle of Poly Juice potion. (2) Barry Bond's trainer/ personal assistant/ crotch jockey rubbed me down with some "How to Pitch Like Todd Ritchie Cream." I thought it was flax seed oil. And (3) I was using my batting practice glove.

* I can't help but wonder if Buehrle has joined forces with Rafael Palmeiro and signed up as an advisor to Floyd Landis.

* It certainly is possible that Buehrle has the talent and moxie to regain the magic that he enjoyed the last five or so seasons, but as of now his reputation as a excellent major league pitcher is sinking faster than Joe Liebermann's political career.

* Finally, most baseball fans know that the Cincinnati Reds and Washington Nationals made one of the biggest trades of the season when the Reds sent everyday position players Felipe Lopez and Austin Kearns to our nation's capital in exchange for relief pitchers Bill Bray and Gary Majewski and former Sox shortstop Royce Clayton. Also included in the deal was one Ryan Wagner, who will now join Frank Robinson's relief corps in D.C. Sorry Ryan, but thewife and I are staying put right here in good ol' Glen Ellyn. Don't worry though, I've already confirmed with Rose Lee Holloway that there is an apartment available and asked Mary and Lester to watch after you. In fact, Brenda and Calvin have agreed to baby sit. Just make sure that you stay away from Sannnnndra. Lesser women have been known to ruin one's career. And for pete's sake, avoid that Pearl woman like the plague. She scares the hell out of me.

G-d damnit, I've got work to do...

Have a good day!

***Today's pop culture trivia: What song was Alton Benes singing on his drive home from dinner with Elaine, Jerry and George?