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?