One Crappy Weekend

Hmmm...where do I start after the pile of crap that was last weekend? I suppose I should start with the game that angered me the most, which, ironically, was the only game the Cubs won in their series against the White Sox. You see, I seriously thought I was headed for a "Teddy KGB when he realized that Mike had figured out that Oreos were his tell" moment as I drove home from work last Friday, listening to Pat and Ron call the 8th and 9th innings. And, while I was happy that the Cubs won, the performance of the team in the late innnings is precisely why this team has about as much chance of winning the World Series as Bernie Madoff has of being asked to teach an ethics course at the Harvard School of Business.

What was your favorite part of the last two innings, Cubs fans? Was it Thome's line drive that Derrek Lee lost in the sun? Was it the leadoff walk to Gordon Beckham? The subsequent walk to Alexei Ramirez? Perhaps Jermaine's high fly ball that dropped for a hit after Soriano and Andres Blanco ran into each other as if they were starring in a Three Stooges remake? Was it Kevin Gregg's two-out, ninth-inning walk to a guy hitting .233- -a walk which undoubtedly ensured that those Cubs fans who actually survived the 8th without having to grab a defibulator would also need a visit to Dr. John Carter (Yes, I know that it was the 3-2-3 double play that Sean Marshall induced A.J. Pierzynski to grounded into perserving the win. Let me have my sarcasm, please).

You see, even though I am thrilled that the Cubs won, I have to admit that it may actually have been better if they had lost the game. While the team escaped with a win, what happened in the late innings simply cannot be ignored. Yet, in my opinion it largely has been. It was BAD baseball, the kind that the team plays on essentially a daily basis, the type that already has me counting the days until Patrick Kane and his teammates lace up the skates, and the type that makes me angrier than Joanna Krupa after spending a couple of days with Terrell Owens.

(Yes, I know the Bears start before the Blackhawks. Show me a receiver who will not make me long for Brian Baschnagel and Kenny Margerum and maybe I will join you in drinking the orange and blue kool-aid).

* Of course, the media had bigger fish to fry following the game, given Lou and Hasbro Suckstein's "conversation." I simply do not know what to say about Hasbro anymore. It suppose that then-Arizona Cardinals coach Dennis Green said it best at least when it comes to his behavior and disruptive tendencies... Hasbro is who we thought he was.

It really is as simple as this... if you buy a Red Rider Carbon Action 200-Shot Model Air Rifle and your son shoots his eye out, you should not be surprised. If you pay Mike Tyson to entertain at your child's birthday party, you have to assume that one of the kids is going to go home without his left ear. And, if you sign a guy who has had more incidents than all-star appearances, eventually there is going to be trouble. Of course, from a on-field perspective, you probably would have thought that he would have more RBI than Juan Pierre and Stephen Hawking Hairston, which he does not. Heck, he has fewer RBI and the same number of home runs as Khalil Greene who has spent considerable time on the DL thanks to the fact that apparently makes Alton Benes seem like a social extrovert.

* Even after Marmol's adventure on Friday, there he was again on Saturday, taking his 1.67 WHIP (walks and hits per innnings pitched) to the mound in the bottom of the 8th. And, wait...are you sitting down... there he was giving up another lead. Now despite the fact that prior to an admittedly well-pitched inning last night versus the Pirates, Marmol had given up 20 walks in his last 13 innings and I, therefore, want to see him enter a game about as much as I want to clean a Taste of Chicago porta-potty with my tongue, I have come to the unfortunate conclusion that Lou really does not have much of a choice. Smack dab in the middle of my Teddy KGB impersonation on Friday, I screamed "Why does he keep bringing him in?!?" Well, RT reader and occasional commenter AllInOnTheFirstHand, just happened to be the unfortunate soul with whom I was on the phone when I lost my mind and hit the nail on the head when he asked "Who in the heck else are they going to put in?"

Consider the options... Aaron Heilman and his 1.62 WHIP? Jose Ascanio and his 1.76? Wade Miller and his 86 home runs given up in eleven games as a member of the Scranton Paper Kings Semi-Pro team? Joe Borowski and his 72,000 Quarter Pounders With Cheese made in the last six months? Roberto Novoa? The sad truth is that Marmol is the best he can throw out there. Let's hope his inning of walkess and hitless relief last night is a sign of better things to come.

* What has become evident is that, while the Cubs certainly miss and need Aramis, with Jake Fox continuing to hit, right now they may need Angel Guzman even more. That said, I, for one, am wondering whether Ramirez can throw a slider. Perhaps Fox has a knuckler that nobody has mentioned.

* My favorite moment of Saturday's game had to be Scott Podsednik's "discussion" with the second base umpire after being called out for oversliding second base. Pods was incredulous that the umpire actually had the gall to call him out, continuously asking "Are you really going to call that?" The ump's reaction was perfect, saying "That's why I am out here," and "What do you think I am going to do, ignore it?"

Um...how long has Pods been in the major leagues? Look Scotty, maybe Mrs. Podsednik looks the other way when you wash her panties in warm water instead of cold and violate other house rules, but the ump has a job and he needs to do it. If you missed it, it truly was a priceless exchange.

* Now, I trust that nobody who reads the Random Thoughts is going to buy me a ticket to San Pedro de Macoris so I can visit the childhood home of Alfonso Soriano for my birthday, unless thet want to receive a donation to the Human Fund in return. The bottom line is that I like Soriano only slightly more than Hawk Harrelson and Adam Morrison.

And on Sunday, I was reminded of why. Soriano led off the game with a sharp line drive that did not quite split the left and center fielders, but that made it all the way to the warning track. Soriano lollygagged his way to first base and, as result, was held to a single. An inning and one-half later, Paul Konerko hit a ball in the exact same spot, but hustled all the way and, as a result, ended up with a double. Now, remember that Konerko once lost a footrace to Roseanne Barr and she was carrying John Goodman on her back at the time. So let's see here... Soriano can't hit for power anymore, whiffs at pitches that are so bad that even Stevie Wonder would not take a swing, plays left field about as well as Bobby Brady played the drums, and can't even bother to play hard. Nice.

* If you missed Sunday's game, all you really have to know is that Ryan Freel was the Cubs WGN Player of the Game, celebrating his bloop single, his drawing of a walk, and the fact that he "brushed off" getting hit in the shoulder by a John Danks' retaliation pitch. Freel's "honor" reminds me of possibly the worst game the Indiana Hoosiers played during my four years in Bloomington when they lost at Minnesota by fifty points. The player of the game was Pat Knight who was given the designation in appreciation of his six points, four rebounds, and seven father/ coach inflicted bruises.

Naming Freel as the player of the game is like being named the best juggler in a room full of one-armed clowns.

Have a great day!!

**Sports Trivia Question of the Day: Great question on Fox's Saturday broadcast of the Cubs-Sox. What opposing player has hit the most home runs at U.S. Comiskular?

What About Kyle Taber?

I'm not sure how to react to the news that Geovany Soto was apparently hanging with Wooderson and Slater from Dazed and Confused while playing for Puerto Rico in the World Baseball Classic. On one hand, I am disappointed that he made such a poor decision with the season only a month or so away, while, on the other hand, I suppose it was possible that it was just his way of dealing with the reality that he was facing a season of catching Kevin Gregg, David Patton and Neal Cotts. Sometimes it's easier to just not think about it and pillaging Ricky Williams' stash is one was to get there.

Glad to see that he will not be punished by either Major League Baseball or the Cubs. Of course, he has received a two-year ban on participating in international competition which kills his dream of winning Fox's new global reality show "Who Wants to Groom My Facial Hair?"

Oh well, at least the freakish weight gain can now be explained. All this time, I thought he was hanging out with Cartman and Comic Book Guy at Uncle Moe's Family Feedbag, while it turns out that it was nothing more than uncontrollable munchies. Let's hope Chef saved him some Chocolate Salty Balls and Homer did not eat all the America Balls.* Ultimately, I do not think this is a big deal.

* In fact, it makes him a perfect candidate to one day play in the NBA. Speaking of the NBA, how about some quick thoughts on what may turn out to be one of the worst drafts in history? Ought to be fun to look back at this a couple of years from now and see whether I am as smart as I pretend to be...

1. Blake Griffin: I guess someone had to go #1. Griffin is a nice player, but is likely closer to Pervis Ellison than he is to Dwight Howard. He will be a decent NBA player, but not a superstar. In this draft, Griffin is essentially the equivalent of the fastest runner in Ron Santo's rehabilitation group.

2. Hasheem Thabeet: Great pick if you are a fan of DeSagna Diop. At least the Big and Tall stores in Memphis can expect business to pick up. He is also guaranteed to be the best Hasheem in the history of the league even if he plays like Granville Waiters.

3. James Harden: Best beard and bow tie in the draft. Can score, but can also completely disappear more quickly than Jake and Elwood when they see a blue and white (as he did in the NCAA Tournament). Should be a nice piece on an up-and-coming OKC team. Let's hope his last name is not a sign that a bad shaving injury is in his future.

4. Tyreke Evans: Perhaps the best talent in the draft. The cows in Sacramento are going to love watching him play. So are the farm animals. Hey, I've been to Sacramento... and before Bertha and Bessie file suit, I'll remind them that truth is an absolute defense.

5. Ricky Rubio: From what I understand, Rubio is going to be an excellent NBA player, although it will not be easy to go from a beach town in southern Spain to Minnesota. Brenda Walsh never really made the adjustment and she went the other way, moving from the bitter cold to nice, warm weather. Let's hope Ricky fares better than Brenda and does not end up sleeping with the resident bad boy. If nothing else, the T-Wolves will be in a fantastic position to win the NBA's Paella Cooking contest.

6. Jonny Flynn: Flynn proved in the Big East tournament that he can go all night. Ought to please the groupies. Too short to make much of an impact on the court though (I'm talking his height, gutter brain).

7. Stephen Curry: Curry has received more hype over the last two years than Dancing With the Stars. He is good, he is just not that good. At least at 6'3 - 185, he is probably a better rebounder than namesake Eddy. He will be nothing more than a role player with the Warriors.

8. Jordan Hill: Am I crazy or was she the main character in Gossip Girl? One Tree Hill? Some other stupid show on the WB? Does anyone else feel badly for the frog? That has got to be the worst mascot gig since Ribbie was suffering daily beatings at the hands of Rhubarb.

9. DeMar DeRozan: De-welcome to De-Toronto DeMar. Going from USC to Canada has got to be tough. DeRozan has talent, but I question how he is going to deal with the pay cut. Maybe Tim Floyd can get a job as an assistant coach.

10. Brandon Jennings: Ciao! My advice is for Jennings to get to Milwaukee as quickly as possible. Summerfest is great. In fact, comparing Summerfest with the Taste of Chicago is like comparing the World Series with what will be a meaningless Cubs' game this September.

11. Terrence Williams: Going to be an excellent player in the NBA. If the Nets really felt the need to trade Vince Carter, they got a potential replacement.

12. Gerald Henderson: Michael Jordan drafted a guy from Duke? Isn't this like the Montagues inviting Tybalt over for tea and crumpets? Kwame Brown and Henrik Rodl must not have been available. I actually believe Henderson is going to be a good player on the next level. You know, just like all those other former Duke superstars... Trajan Langd... uh, and Jason Willa... um, and, uh, never mind.

13. Tyler Hansbrough: 6'8 white guys usually have long careers in the NBA. There is Henry Cantshoot who served 14 years as the guy who collected sweaty towels for the Heat. And there is Billy Annoystheshitoutofeveryone who passed out the post-game joints.

14. Earl Clark: Another big-time talent from Pitino's stable of "students." The problem is that while Araon Heilman is not Nuke LaLoosh, Earl Clark very well may be with million dollar talent, a ten-cent head and moldy shower shoes.

15. Austin Daye: Is anyone else wondering who would win a cage match between Daye, Alexei Ramirez and Calista Flockhart? Add all three together and I doubt they weigh as much as Geo Soto. Daye may have been successful when he was playing against Pepperdine, but this is the NBA. Better get him some of Cartman's Weight Gain 4000. Beefcake!! Beefcake!!!!!

16. James Johnson: I really like the Bulls' first pick. Very versatile and does many things well. Also one of nine children and a mixed martial arts black belt, which means that he knows how to behave in a group and can kick the snot out of Joakim Noah when he mouths off. He is also from Montana, which is promising should the Bulls' ever feel the need to blow up LeBron's house.

Reason #58 Why Sports Televsion is Only Slightly Better Than Sports Radio: ESPN's breakdown of Johnson noted that he needs to be more physical. While the graphic was being displayed, Mr Boo-Yah was commenting on how Johnson is such an incredibly physical player. Can someone explain this? Do you think they meant "physical" in the Olivia Newton John way?

17. Jrue Holliday: Jrue? Really? Is that a joke or is he the son of Javid and Jebbie?

18. Ty Lawson: A winner. Will have a nice career in Denver backing up Chauncey Billups, paying Kenyon Martin's bail and laughing at Carmelo when he insists that he is as good as Kobe.

19. Jeff Teague: Did not follow older brother David to Purdue, which at least shows that he is more intelligent than Glenn Robinson. Of course, that is like saying that someone is more a better speller than Jrue Holliday's parents.

20. Eric Maynor: Seann William Scott was hilarious in American Pie and has capitalized on his singular performance to become quite rich. Eric Maynor made one shot to beat Duke in the NCAA Tournament. Enjoy the paycheck and don't forget that Stockton and Hornacek left their porn magazines in the panels above locker #69. Do you have any clue what the punishment for getting caught with that stuff in Salt Lake City is? You have to drink whatever is in the cup that Kevin left on the nightstand.

21. Darren Collison: Another point guard drafted? No way!!! Collison is a modern day Tyus Edney, who enjoyed four unproductive seasons in the league. At least he gets to hang out at Cafe du Monde and Tipatina's.

22. Victor Claver: At this time yesterday, I had never heard of Olivia Munn or Victor Claver. Thanks to Bearister and the Trail Blazers, I have now heard of both. I would have drafted Munn.

23. Omri Casspi: A genuine, real-life Member of the Tribe. Simchat Torah is going to be some fun in the Kings' locker room. Photos of Sandy Koufax, Neil Diamond music. Good times. Bad basketball.

24. B.J. Mullens: Mullens is an interesting story, having grown up going from homeless shelter to homeless shelter. If it does not work out in Oklahoma City, he can always take up residence in the ruins of the Murrah Federal Building. I'm cheering for the kid and hoping that his name is never used in the same sentence as Brad Sellers.

25. Rodrigue Beaubois: Gesundheit. Here is a kleenex.

26. Taj Gibson: Hmmm...not so sure about the Bulls' second pick, especially since he his game has been compared to Tyrus Thomas. Interesting that he left USC after his junior year, yet is 74 years old. He also lists Jamal Tinsley among his favorite NBA players. Jamal Tinsley? Did the Bulls just draft the next Michael Ruffin? Not a terrible pick, but I would have rather had Dejuan Blair and his gimpy knees.

By the way, ESPN's breakdown of Tyrus Thomas, er... Taj Gibson notes that he needs to improve his shooting in traffic. Good to know if the Bulls ever play their games on the Kennedy or if he ever finds himself getting chased by Victor Drazen and his goons.

27. Demare Carroll: Mr. Boo-Yah tells us that he has a liver problem, but will not need a transplant for 20 years. I just hope his boss at Burger King lets him have time off. Dee Brown can be a hardass you know.

28. Wayne Ellington: Am I crazy or is this the third guard Minnesota has taken? I sorry did they move to the 6'5 and under league?

29. Toney Douglas: Good late-round value for the Knicks who picked up Douglas in a trade. (Can you tell I am out of steam?)

30. Christian Eyenga: Whatever.

* I suppose you all want a prediction of this weekend's crappy North Side team versus crappy South Side team series. Okay, how about Chicago loses, Chicago loses, Chicago loses.

Have a great weekend!

***Pop Culture Trivia Question of the Day: What are America Balls made out of? C'mon someone has got to know this!!!

Grrrrrrr.....

First and foremost, let me warn you that this post has been rated 'R' by the Angry Sports Bloggers Association of America. In other words, no children under the age of 17 should read this post without parental supervision. Thank you.

I actually had 85% of a post written on a completely different topic. But after watching last night's Cubs' game, I am angry. Very, very angry. As angry as a governor who got caught sneaking off to Buenos Aires to visit some Eva Peron wannabe. Nah, more like as angry as a governor's wife who found out that her husband was sneaking off to Buenos Aires to imitate scenes from a cheap Skin-a-Max movie with some Eva Peron wannabe. Nah, more like as angry as Cartman when Kyle did not buy him a red Megaman for his birthday. Ants in the Pants? Ants in the Pants!!! Yes, that angry. Party off.

You see, for those of you too depressed by the news of Jon and Kate's pending divorce to pay attention to anything other than whether Bravo is going to fill the big empty hole in their lineup with the Real Housewives of Billings or the Real Housewives of Lubbock ("That Bob Knight guy sure be sexy!"), the Cubs played one of the most frustrating and maddening games I have seen in a long time last night.

And so I am going to write this post and simply let it go. There will be no edits. There will be no carefully chosen words. There will probably be no clever references to Punky Brewster or Shaq-Fu: Da Return. What there will be is anger and probably some language that would make Eddie Murphy blush. That's the Delirious-Raw Eddie Murphy and not the "Look At Me, I'm a Cute, Funny Donkey" Eddie Murphy.

(Upon further review, thewife and South Park Guidance Counselor Mr. Mackey have convinced me to post a more kid-friendly version for those who do not appreciate bad language. So, if you are one of those people, please turn off the Kenny G record and read your version of this post available HERE).

(And, I do not want to hear about how it is only a game or about how I am going to have a heart attack because I get too stressed and take it too seriously. Please keep it to yourself).

Here is the bottom line... if I am Lou or Jim Hendry or Yosh Kowano or pretty much anyone associated with Cubs' management, I am walking into the clubhouse after last night's game and asking Derrek Lee and Ted Lilly to please step into the training room to enjoy a nice, cold Amstel Light. And then, once Derrek and Ted are out of ear shot, I am turning to the rest of the team and asking, "What in the fuck is wrong with you people? No really, what in the hell is a matter with you fucking guys?"

I'm turning to Geovany Soto and saying, "Oh nice home run Geo. Goody for you. Perhaps one of these days your batting average will catch up to your weight. And maybe, just maybe, you can actually...oh, I don't know... how about make contact with the bases loaded and nobody out? But at least you are playing good defense. I'm sure it was your mitt's fault when you dropped that ball, right Brant Brown? Did you ever see the movie "The Wall," Geo? Do you recall the scene where the main character 'Pink Floyd' shaves off his eyebrows? Keep playing like this and see what happens..."

And then I am turning to Harden... "What the hell are you snickering at jackass? How about trying to throw the damn ball over the plate and having it not travel 550 feet? Crap, you have given up so many home runs this year, I am starting to think that Gopherball Glendon Rusch is back on the payroll. How is it that you have not injured your neck watching opposing batters run around the bases? What's that? I am hurting your feeling? Well, why don't you go join Prior in the Junior League? I'm sure you will look real pretty in a frilly skirt and apron, wuss."

"Maybe you can borrow Heilman's handbag for the special daisy pickin' festival. Yeah, Aaron, it's your turn. Heck, the only guy in this room that walks more batters than Harden is you and maybe Marmol. Did you ever see that scene in 'Bull Durham' when Crash Davis tells Nuke LaLoosh that he couldn't hit water if he fell out of a fucking boat? Well, guess what Aaron. You are Nuke LaLoosh, only you do not have a million dollar arm and I doubt that Annie Savoy would touch you. Maybe you can get that mentally handicapped girl that hangs around and always begs the batboy for his autograph thinking he is on the team to read you some poetry. We gave up Ronny Cedeno to get you? Shit, he's hitting like .120 and yet, I am regretting the move."

"I'm sick and tired of hearing about how the World Baseball Classic set you back Marmol. It is time to start pitching the way you are capable of our you can catch the first raft back to the Dominican Republic. In fact, walk in one more run and I'm shipping your ass back to Santo Domingo. I hear Sammy Sosa needs someone to stick steroid needles in his ass."

"Yeah Big Z... you have pitched well since smashing the shit out of the Gatorade Machine. Try not walking the leadoff hitter in a one-run game. There is a reason you are not considered on the same level as Tim Lincecum and Chris Carpenter. They are dependable. You are not"

"Yeah, I get it Jake. You suck at defense. Well, you know where they do not care if you play defense? In the Elgin Schlitz Softball League. Good luck there. Perhaps you and Soriano can play on the same team. At least that way when you trip on what should be a routine grounder, you can blame it on a discarded beer can. Soriano can blame his pathetic defense on being more shitfaced than Frank the Tank. How about you streaking by getting some fucking hits?"

"Hi Milton. How are you? Spending your $30 million on nice things? Did you get one of those nifty new $5,000 cell phones that can do your laundry? Good. Hey, you know thewife and I were wondering how much one can sell his baseball ability for on Ebay these days? We figure that with 16 lousy RBIs in 54 games, you have got to know.

Oh, nice play by the way on Magglio's line drive in the 7th inning. You know, you are supposed to try and catch the ball in your glove, you piece of crap. Holy shit, you suck. I mean, how much more failure are we supposed to take? You couldn't even successfully break you bat over your knee after striking out with two on in the ninth. Next time please smash the bat over your head so Cubs fans do not have to put up with your shit anymore."

"And the rest of you... one hit in 15 at-bats with runners in scoring position? Each and everyone one of you sucks. Period."

Here is the bottom line...I have been saying since mid April that this is going to be one of the most frustrating seasons in Cubs' history. After all, even when they win, they usually do so many stupid things that is is obvious in my mind that this is simply not a team that is capable of ending the 1o1-year drought. It does not matter if Aramis comes back. It does not matter if they are able to make a trade at the deadline. It does not even matter if Brian Boitano, er...Mark DeRosa returns to the North Side.

Look, I desperately hope I am wrong. I hope this team catches fire, goes on to win the NL Central, and makes me look like an idiot. I hope Hasbro Suckstein drives in seventy runs in the next seventy games. I hope Marmol turns back into the Marmol of 2008 and dominates. I hope Geo gets to keep his eyebrows, Fox and Soriano stay out of the beer league and, compared to Big Z, Tim Lincecum looks like Jaime Navarro. I want to be wrong more than anybody.

Glad to get that off my chest. I feel better.

Random Thoughts Hottie #1: Okay, now I really feel better!

(Yes, you are supposed to click on the link to the kid-friendly version of the post, give it a read, and vote in the poll!)

Happy Homecoming?

Dylan McKay had been through quite a lot by the time he left Beverly Hills in 1995. Alcoholism, severe drug abuse, fights between Brenda and Kelly, and the alleged death of his white collar criminal father. Heck, things got so bad after he fell victim to a scam that resulted in him losing all of his money that he started sleeping with the overweighted, I mean, overrated Valerie Malone (I absolutely love Allinonthefirsthand's comment and, therefore, have stolen it...). Maybe he just closed his eyes and imagined that she was still Kelly Kopowski.

Yet, even with all of the unfortunate memories, Dylan returned to Beverly Hills in 1998. Oh sure, he started mainlining heroin and dating the bad girl again, but when all was said and done, we are lead to believe that he kicked the habit and he and Kelly lived happily ever after. It turns out perhaps you can go home again.

Let's hope that someday the same can be said of Mark DeRosa.

I know that I have spent a lot of time in the last week or so joking about how DeRosa is Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle and Jay Cutler all rolled into one, but after hearing his comments last weekend about how much he enjoyed playing in Chicago, I started to really feel bad that the Cubs had elected to trade him for what amounts to a bag of baseballs, a Dick Tidrow mustache groomer and a VHS copy of 90210 season four. Frankly, I am not sure that I have ever heard someone sound sadder about being forced to leave an organization. In media interviews, the poor guy sounded downright depressed. You would have sworn that somebody had just told DeRosa that he had failed to join Peter and Cindy in the glee club or that Jan may be allergic Tiger (you know, Bobby had a tough year). I am not sure I have seen someone so forlorned since Homer found out that KrustyBurger was going to stop selling the ribwich. Doh!!!

DeRosa, who has played in Atlanta, Texas, Chicago and now Cleveland talked about how much he enjoyed playing in front of Cubs fans. He talked about how he has never felt more at home than he felt at the Friendly Confines. He talked about how playing on the same field as Steve Trout, Ismael Valdez and Steve Buchele meant more to him than any of us would ever know. He talked about missing practically everything about the Cubs... day games... broken shards of Steroid Sammy's boombox embedded in the clubhouse walls... daily walks past the unfinished bronze statute of Corey Patterson which will, alas, never occupy it's rightful place at the corner of Addison and Clark... sticky magazine photos of Marla Collins from Jeromy Burnitz's tenure on the North Side.

The truth is that, despite all of the sarcasm, I liked DeRosa a lot when he was in a Cubs' uniform and, if there is anyway he can be brought back, I think that he could help this team. That said, I am officially joining the rest of Chicago in hoping that Jim Hendry can someone make it work. But, I encourage you to keep in mind that, while he may be a able to travel through time to the year 3010, fight the evil robot kings and save the human race again, I still doubt he can really do anything about frickin' Kevin Gregg.

* Oh noooo, I am not too angry about last night. So much for all the good feelings surrounding the team. This reminds me of when the TC Williams Titans won a big game only to see star linebacker Gerry Bertier get into a car accident. The difference? The Titans were able to overcome Gerry's paralysis. The Cubs, on the other hand...

* Reason #138 Why I Sometimes Hate Sports Radio: All Cubs fans should be angry about last night. Heck, all Sox fans should be angry about what happened. But Carmen DeFalco, host of the ESPN afternoon Saloon of Stupidity isn't angry. In fact, despite the fact that he claims to be a tried and true Sox fan, he is rather apathetic about the result. You see, Carmen mentioned on yesterday's show that he does not care who wins when the Cubs and Tigers play. Hey genius... Mario from Pizano's just called. You left your brain at the antipasto table.

Look, I have no problem if you are a Sox fan and feel the need to root against the Cubs when they play the Padres or the Phillies or any other National League team. Furthermore, I really can't argue with your desire to see Miguel Tejada convince D Lee that he is just sharing his Pop Rocks so Derrek gets a 50-game suspension or hope that Prince Fielder eats Ryan Dempster. I can't even quarrel with your want for Tony LaRussa to overimbibe of Busch Light and run over Gregg and Soriano in a drunken stupor. In fact, I know a number of Cubs' fans that would like to see the same thing.

But to say that you do not want the Cubs to beat the Tigers when Detroit has a five-game lead in the AL Mediocre, is simply idiotic and proves, in my mind, that some of you remain primarily Cubs haters rather than Sox fans. Just one man's opinion.

* Some homecomings make sense and are generally welcome. For example, Greg Maddux may have looked more like Gary Maddox on the hill than his old self during his second stint, but it just felt right to have him back in a Cubs' uniform. Scottie Pippen may have made more turnovers than Mad Chemist's pal The Swedish Chef when he returned to the West Side (when he wasn't wearing street clothes and saving Luol Deng's seat on the end of the bench, that is) but it was fitting that he would end his career in a Bulls' uniform. Pamela Anderson may have fooled around with Kid Rock for a bit and enjoyed a little of Paris Hilton's sloppy seconds when she went to Vegas with Rick Soloman, but aren't we all fairly certain that eventually she will make her way back to Dr. Feelgood. After all, it just feels right.

And then there are those "homecomings" that make about as much sense as trusting Iran to conduct a fair election. Yesterday, I referenced Dan McNeil's return to The Score, where he will host a new show. Despite his arrogance and mocking personality, it is hard to argue that McNeil has talent, but his return still shocks the heck out of me. After all, this is the same guy who spent the last eight years completely bashing the hell out of The Score and the station's management (when he wasn't suspended for teasing the poor fat man, that is). Listening to McNeil talk about The Score, you would swear that working there is akin to working at a fortune cookie making sweatshop in Shanghai.

I really want you to think about what has happened here. Imagine working at the Larry Roth-s-child School of Throwing Strikes only to be fired for telling star pupils Rich Hill and Jeff Samardzjia about the importance of getting ahead of the count. Imagine then getting a job working at the Gerald Perry School of Patience at the Plate where you unleash tirade after tirade on the stupidity of Larry's teachings. Imagine then getting fired for suggesting that Kosuke is Japanese for Spin-o-Rama. Now picture applying for a job at Larry's school again. Think he is going to want to hire you?

Apparently, if the imbciles that run The Score have any say, the answer is "quite possibly." Does that make any sense to you? I suppose the lesson to be learned is, go ahead and burn that bridge. We'll just use Obama's stimulus funds to build another.

Or pehaps the real lesson is that something is seriously wrong with the fact that Score management could not come up with another alternative and I now have reason #12,963 why I hate sports radio. After all, I'm right here and the cleaning industry is really not that fascinating... I'll just sit here and watch the episode when Dylan takes Brenda to the Homecoming Dance while I wait for their call.

-- A big "thank you" to new RT reader "Invoke the Mac" for his fine creation of the Mark DeRosa - South Park picture above. Good work Luis!!!

I Can't Think Of A Clever Title...

It will come as no surprise that I have a tendency to get quite irritated by a number of things when I watch baseball. Oh, there are the usual suspects, things like walking a leadoff hitter and failing to get a runner in from third with under two outs, but there are other things as well. For example, it drives me nuts when pitchers get behind in the count, when guys fail to move a runner over, and when guys run the bases as if it were a high school softball game where my motto was always "Just keep running. Eventually Hilda Geekenstein or Cheryl Ann Dontwanttobreakanail is going to be forced to make a play." And, of course, I am driven literally insane every time Lou tries to convince us that David Patton is a major league pitcher and whenever a Little Debbie Nutty Bar falls out of Bobby Jenks' pocket when he is on the mound.

The sad truth is that I find myself complaining to "thewife" about stupidity, foolishness and downright idiocy about ten times more than I find myself commenting about a smart, well-executed play. And if you take into account all my complaints to theson, thedaughter, thecat, and theprincefieldervoodoodoll, made after thewife has had enough and gone upstairs to read Harry Potter for the 387th time (which usually happens in about the 4th inning), the ratio probably climbs to 25-1 or so.

And that is why I could not help but grin from ear-to-ear when Alfonso Soriano stole second base in the bottom of the 9th inning of last Friday's game between the Cubs and the Cleveland DeRosites. For those of you who were too busy trying to figure out how Tiger Woods was playing his second round and Phil Mickelson was still on his first, but Ty Webb was finishing up his third to have seen the end of the Cubs' game; Soriano stole second with two outs and Ryan Theriot batting in a 7-7 tie. Soriano then scored when Theriot hit a grounder to first that magically hit one of Mark Grace's old condom wrappers, took a wicked bounce, and dribbled into right field.

Look, unless the runner is Ron Cey or Paul Konerko or the hitter at the plate is Albert Pujols, Lou Gehrig or Mark DeRosa (snicker), a stolen base should always be attempted in such a situation. If the runner stays on first base, you are relying on either an extra-base hit or two hits to score the winning run. If he successfully steals second, however, presumably all it takes is a single or a routine fly ball to Hasbro Suckstein or Soriano to get him home and enjoy a victory (yes, I realize I wrote "routine" and there are two outs in the scenario...you do the math). I ask what is more likely, especially with this year's offensively challenged Cubs' team that has enough trouble getting an extra base hit or a hit of any kind with runners in scoring position?

I am not sure why teams do not recognize this more often. The bottom line is that a runner should almost always try and steal second with two outs in the late innings of a tie game. And so, the next time, you see a Cubs' batter hit a single that merely moves a runner up to second or third, followed by an out, you can be sure that I am more irritated than Keira Knightly when she discovered that she has not been named a Random Thoughts Hottie as of yet..

Quick hits from the last four days of baseball...

* I admit that I gave up on last Friday's game versus the DeRosites and went grocery shopping. Down 7-1 with Cliff Lee on the mound, a Cubs' comback seemed about as likely as Eric Cartman going on a diet. In fact, I believe thekids were fighting over whether to go with Cheesy Poofs, Snacky Cakes or Beefy Logs when the Cubs scored four in the bottom of the 8th. Glad I made it back in front of a TV to see Soriano imitate Tim Raines in the 9th, when 99% of the time, he continues to imitate Dave Kingman. It truly was a great win.

* Lou may have made a wise managerial move when he had Kingman, er, Soriano steal a base on Friday, but that is about the only smart move he made all weekend. His worst decision was deciding to have Big Z pinch hit in the 11th inning of the game on Saturday when Soto and Jake Fox remained viable options. Look, I understand that Carlos is a decent hitter and I would understand the move if it were the 5th or 6th inning, but in the 11th? I mean, what exactly was he saving Soto and Fox for? Does Fox have a long history of coming through in the 17th and 18th innings? Was Soto working on his eyebrows in the clubhouse and, therefore, not in the dugout? Pinch hitting Zambrano in that spot is like calling Tim Taylor and asking him to fix your facuet when Bob Vila and Handy Manny are waiting by the phone.

* I also disagreed with Lou's decision to let Ryan Dempster bat in the top of the 7th in last night's game and I certainly made my feelings known as he was walking up to the plate. After having to listen to me whine and moan, I'll betcha thewife wishes she had lost herself in the world of Harry, Hermonie and all their friends a few innings earlier. I am not sure what Lou was thinking. Perhaps he wanted a coveted spot on the list of People Who Are Pissing Me Off This Week. Congrats Lou. You made it!

* Bob Brenly's prediction of Mich Hoffpauir's home run in the 6th inning of Saturday's game was really something. Anyone can predict that Soriano will strike out or Aaron Heilman will walk every other batter he faces or Dempster will give up a run in the bottom of the 7th after batting in the top of the inning (which I did by the way) or even that Soto will continue to miss his postgame professional eyebrow manicure appointments if the Cubs continue to play so many extra inning games, but to correctly predict a pinch hit home run with such certainty, is pretty amazing.

* Anyone notice that Derrek Lee's hot streak started when I suggested that the team assign him Gatorade machine guarding duty? I suggest we now recommend that "Little Paul Bako" be put in charge of watching over the barrell of Double Bubble and Soriano be asked to take responsibility for Rich Harden's first aid kit. After all, isn't he due for a paper cut? Kosuke's good luck Hello Kitty? The Japanese Twister can take care of that himself.

* Speaking of injuries...really unfortunate news that Angel Guzman, the team's most dependable arm out of the bullpen, has been put on the 15-day DL. Lou and Larry Roth-s-child better hope Marmol regains his '08 form soon or look into what Terry Adams is doing these days.

* Reason #6,954 Why I Sometimes Hate Sports Radio: Matt Spiegel, the new co-host of the Score's "We Could Not Find Anyone Else, So We Brought Back A Guy Who Most of Chicago Hates and Who Has Bashed Us Incessently For the Past Eight Years Show" (more commonly known as the "Danny Mac Show") commented on how much he enjoyed watching Saturday's Sox-Reds game because he likes watching "well played baseball." Excuse me? Is he talking about the same game that produced five errors, 34 team runners left-on-base, a hit batter, and a wild pitch? The same game that almost made Bill Melton throw up the eighteen hot dogs he ate? The same game that even caused Einstein Jones to comment about how poorly it was played? Calling Saturday's game "well played," is like calling Dr. House easy to get along with or commenting that Rosie O'Donnell is both in great shape and not annoying.

* Perhaps The Score or ESPN Radio can hire Dusty Baker to host a show when he is done with his stint as the Reds' manager. Dusty, who managed both Barry Bonds and Steroid Sammy, noted that he was surprised by the reports that both had used performance enhancing drugs and stated that he knew nothing about it. Are you sure those toothpicks are laced with tree tea oil and not LSD, Dusty? Of course, this is the same guy who continues to allow Stephen Hawking Hairston to play everyday...

Have a great night!

Pick A Lane

I have always liked the movie American Pie. That said, I struggle with the scene when Jim discovers the newly baked apple pie(especially in the uncut version). I just have a hard time watching it and my inclination is to fast forward until he has finished pretending that the pie is Jaime Pressly. Yet, despite knowing full well that it is coming up, I always end up leaving it on it for some reason.

And so it was with yesterday's drive home from work. I knew it was going to happen. I knew I was going to get as frustrated as Jan when Marcia kept winning trophy after trophy. But there I was tuning the dial to the Afternoon Saloon of Stupidity on AM 1000. And, to make matters worse, there I was turning the dial to The Boers and Bernstein 670 AM The Score Giggle Hour during commercials. Oh sure, I could have rocked out to Van Halen on JACK FM, lost myself in the music listening to Eminem on KISS or even enjoyed getting lost in love by listening to Air Supply on the Lite. Heck, I suppose I even could have listened to WGCI and either shaked my groove thing or jumped around, jumped around, jumped up, jumped up and got down.

But no.

And, I heard exactly what I expected....

• "Hell yeah!! Believe baby! You have got to believe that this is the year!!!"
  
  
• "Whoo hoo!!! I am going to skip buying that Ryne Sandberg rookie card so I can save my money for World Series tickets! This team is going all the way."
  
  
• "Alfonso Soriano is the greatest thing to happen to Chicago since the city found out it had been awarded the '68 Democratic National Convention. He is worth every penny. In fact, give the guy a raise!!!"

Oh brother.

Wasn't it just ten hours earlier when I heard the exact three callers say...

• "What the hell? Believe? Yeah right. I believe that this team stinks!"
  
  
• "Boo hoo!!! This team has as much chance of going all the way as Bartolo Colon has of teaching a dieting class. I'm going to crack open my cubby bear bank and buy a Jerome Walton rookie card!"
  
  
• Alfonso Soriano is the worst thing to happen to Chicago since the city was awarded the '68 Democratic National Convention. He is a complete waste of money. In fact, he should be forced to give some back!"

For gosh sakes, pick a lane.

This is the main reason that I am becoming increasingly turned off by sports radio and it is not as if there is a dearth of reasons. I mean how often do we have to listen to Greenie gush about the Jets and Golic drool over Notre Dame? For how long do we have to listen to Mully and Hanley proclaim to have all the answers? What "expert" suggestion does Silvy and whoever is filling in for the absent Tom Waddle really have to offer? I mean, how many times do we have to hear that the Most Interesting Man in the World once successfully mated a giraffe and a walrus or how chugging a Vault helped Rory kick it on cruise control as he hauls sauerkraut all the wall across the Arizona state line?

But the number one thing I cannot stand is the utter fickleness of sports radio callers. One day the Cubs or Sox are definite playoff participants and the next they might as well trade all their players for a former Mexican Leaguer with bad knees, a pretty boy third baseman who would rather be an interior designer, and a pitcher who has spent the last year playing cards for cigarettes with Andy Dufresne and an army of ex-Illinois governors.

One day Soriano is washed up and the next the Cubs would be better off asking Roosevelt Brown to take off the White Castle apron and put on the home pinstripes.

It is really bordering on ridiculous. Whose calling in? John Kerry?

I firmly believe that one thing I will never be accused of is being a fair weather fan. I believe that those who know me well will agree that I won't waver about my feelings for a player, regardless of whether he goes 5-5 with a pair of home runs or whether he goes 0-5 with three strikeouts and throws the ball into the stands. I trust I proved this point during Rex the Wonder Dog's tenure with the Bears, regardless of whether he was completing passes to Bernard Berrian and Muhsin Muhammed or to Darren Sharper and Mike McKenzie.

By the way, I have to admit that I am a bit disappointed that Rex was signed by the Houston Texans. I certainly do not wish him any ill will, but I have to question whether this means that we will not be treated to the new sitcom "The Wonder Dog Years" this fall. I was really looking forward to the episode where Rex and his best friend Kyle the Bearded Lady go to visit Winnie Cooper at the go-go boots store, but the car gets towed because Rex parked in a handicapped space. And I suppose the episode where Becky Slater punches Rex in the nose for dropping too many snaps from center is now never going to be broadcast. I wonder whose ass is Wayne going to kick?

Look, I am not going to be a wet blanket today and talk about how yesterday's game does nothing to transform Marmol back into the Marmol we used to know and love (since he is presently a modern day Juan Cruz) or magically stop The Japanese Twister from spiraling himself into the ground. In fact, I agree that it was a huge win for the Cubs, tremendously exciting and may very well prove to be exactly what the team needs. But it drives me nuts how some people are treating it as if it did anything more than raise their record back to the break even mark. Even worse is the fact that if Bearister is right and Rich Harden goes down this afternoon with an infected mosquito bite and Cliff Lee shuts out the Cubs on three hits, the same callers will be phoning the sports radio shows and talking about how Jim Hendry makes Isiah Thomas look like a competent general manager, Jim Essian would be better off managing the team, and the Cubs will finish behind the Pirates in the standings. Aaarrrr.

As for Soriano, nothing that happened in yesterday's game does anything to change my opinion that he is not a clutch hitter and is more overpaid than Jack Haley when he was paid millions to carry Dennis Rodman'd jockstrap. After all, for all the vitriol we have thrown Hasbro Suckstein's way this year, his batting average is now 14 points higher than Soriano's. And let's not act like his game winning hit was a solid single into the gap. It really was nothing more than a bloop. Give him credit for having the strength to muscle a pretty good pitch over the infield, but, ultimately, it was nothing more than a blooper that he simply, as the saying goes, "hit it where they ain't.

And I still hate that freakin' hop.

* I also want to mention that, while Soriano may have had a big hit in the 8th inning, it did come after he was the beneficiary of what was a bad call by the home plate umpire on what should have been a called strike three. That said, regardless of whether it was a bad call or not, Hawk Harrelson's reaction and subsequent absolute refusal to let it go resulted in one of the most unprofessional performances by an announcer that I have ever heard. Look, I enjoy a "homer" as much as anyone. I understand that it is Hawk, Len Kaspar, and Harry Doyle's job to paint as rosy a picture as possible, but it is dangerous when one's announcing enters the realm of unprofessionalism, as Hawk's did.

Hawk essentially blamed the entire loss on the single missed call and would not shut up about it. I was very proud of Steve Stone who responded to Hawk's ranting that "one bad call has completely changed this entire game," with "well yeah, that, an error, and a couple of fast balls thrown right over the heart of the plate." You may hate Ron Santo for the fact that he has no clue what is happeing in the game, and the fact that he is likely to call Sean Marshall, Jim Marshall or Marshall Mathers, but, at least he does not bitch and moan and absolutely refuse to let it go.

* A quick warning to anyone who will be driving in Chicago this weekend. Please remember that the motorcade will likely cause the police to close numerous streets, including a number of major thoroughfares. Barack Obama? The Pope? Akeem, the Price of Zamunda? Please... How soon you forget that Mark DeRosa will be in town.

Can It Really Be That Bad?

Let me start off by admitting that I am insane. Not being told what to do by a hallucination of a former colleague that I mockingly referred to as "Cutthroat Bitch" insane and certainly not Randle Patrick McMurphy after a lobotomy or enjoy one's liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti insane. But probably insane none the less. Think Homer when he was sent to an institution because Marge accidentally washed his white shirt with Bart's red hat. Hopefully, I won't confuse any plumbers from New Jersey with Michael Jackson*

I am insane because there were roughly 17,385 things I could have done last night, but I decided to waste an hour or so on an activity that I knew would do nothing to improve my mood. For example, I could have looked into whatever happened to Kent Bottenfield (he is now a Christian music recording artist, by the way). I could have watched all 28 episodes of The Ropers. I could have researched the name of the woman who went on television and teased us that it is all about the big 'O,' only for us to eventually find out that her goal was to get us to buy handbags, hunting gear and old Activision consoles from some stupid website. I could have teached the world to sing. In perfect harmony.

But I was angry. As angry as Marcia when Mike and Carol decided that Greg should have the attic. As angry as Sandy when Danny Zucko blew her off at the pep rally presumably to impress Doody, Sonny and Putzie. No, not quite as angry as Glenn Close when Michael Douglas expressed an unwillingness to reenact the elevator scene, but angry none the less.

Heck, I am not sure I have been this angry since the terrific show 'Ed' was taken off the air depriving me of my weekly fix of the truly adorable Julie Bowen.

Why so angry, you ask? Well, even those of you who are relatively new to the Random Thoughts are probably aware of how much I hate it when a baseball team cannot get a runner in from third with less than two outs. It is likely my number one pet peeve in all of sports. And, I have been moaning about the 2009 Cubs' legendary inability to get the job done since mid-April. But when Lee and Soto failed to get Theriot home from third in the 4th inning of yesterday's abhorrent 4-1 loss to the Sox, I had enough and I had to look into just how bad it has been. And I have to say that even I was not prepared for what I found.

Going into my research, I figured that the Cubs' perecentage of success in terms of getting a runner home, regardless of how it happens -- by getting a base hit, hitting a sac fly, hitting a dribbler to the shortstop, whatever -- had to be lower than the major league average (which I do not pretend to know). To me, major league baseball players should have at least a 65-70% success rate (and frankly, I think that is a bit pessimistic). I mean, this is not like asking a player to do something truly difficult like hit for the cycle, lay down a bunt, or convince the world that Andres Blanco is a genine major league player.

Yet, the 2009 Cubs rate is an unbelievably paltry 38%. 38%!!!!!! And, in terms of getting a hit to drive in the run, it is a miserable 21%. Yes, you read those numbers correctly... they have had 117 chances to get a runner in from third with less than two outs and been successful only 45 times!!!

The main culprits have been the pitching staff (0-9), Koyie Hill (0-6), Scales (1-5); Miles (1-5); Hoffpauir (3-10); Soto (3-9); Sammy Sosa Soriano (4-11; only one hit); and Suckstein (4-10). The "good" players? How about Aramis (2-3); Theriot (6-10); Reed Johnson (4-7); and The Japanese Twister (4-7). Of course, calling 60% "good," is a bit like calling Elisabeth Hasselbeck the least annoying panelist on The View. Oh yeah, to his credit, Jake Fox was successful in his one and only attempt.

The remainder include D. Lee (6-11; only three hits) and Fontenot (6-12; only two hits). It should be further noted that the Cubs have had an additional ten opportunities that did result in them scoring a run as the result of an error, passed ball or bases loaded walk, which I did not factor in the calculations because, in my opinion, the player was simply lucky that Nuke LaLoosh was pitching or Chuck Knoblauch was playing the field. And, just for the record, Theriot and Fontenot have both been picked off third. Ouch!

I ask, who needs the Elias Sports Bureau when you have my insanity and a daily dose of Random Thoughts?

Like I said, I knew it was bad, but I did not know that it was THAT bad. The bottom line is that, at this point, the odds on what is likely to happen when a Cub find himself in such a situation may look as follows:

• Strikeout: 2-1


• Pop Out: 3-1


• Weak Ground Out With Run Not Scoring: 4-1


• Morganna Runs on Field and Interrupts Play: 50-1
  
• Field Overrun With Cursed Goats Causing Postponement of Game: 100-1


• Gigantic Spaceship Hovers Over Field Requiring Will Smith to Kick Some Alien Ass: 10,000-1


• Reggie Jackson Recovers Gun From Under Second Base and Shoots Queen of England: 100,000-1


• Hasbro Suckstein Recovers Gun From Under Second Base and Shoots Hillary Clinton: 500,000-1


• Cubs Get the Run Home: 1 million-1

The bottom line is that this is really a bit like Lane Meyer after Beth dumped him for the captain of the high school ski team*, words simply cannot express how pathetic it is. And the worst part is that there is simply no end in sight. I am afraid that the Cubs' utter futility is likely to make me angrier and drive me more insane as the season wears on. But whatever happens, I promise that I will not kill and boil any rabbits, no matter how much Soriano and his teammates piss me off.

* Pop Culture Trivia Questions of the Day: Who was having hallucinations about "Cutthroat Bitch?; What was the name of the actor who portrayed Randle Patrick McMurphy?; What did Dr. Lechter presumably eat for dinner immediately after the movie ended?; And what was the real name of the overweight, white New Jersey plumber who was convinced that he was Michael Jackson? Bonus Question: Name the 80's movie referenced...

**No comments needed about how disgraceful it is to go from RT Hottie #1 and Katherine Heigl to Sabine Ehrenfeld and Julie Bowen. I think they are tremendously attractive and went with a "cute" theme today. If this is not suitable, http://www.lindsaylohanneedstomakemoneysomehow.com/ is just a click away.

The Plague on the House of Baseball Revisited

I have to warn you. Today's post may be a little shocking and so I want to make sure everyone is sitting down before I start. Mad Chemist...pull up a lab stool. AllHailtheChief... there is a tepee blanket right over there. Bearister... you go ahead and sit in Lance Briggs lap. Golden Sombrero... Soriano is happy to give up his seat for a namesake. Everyone else, please find yourself a La-Z-Boy, oversized bean bag, big plastic hand, or an egg. Everyone comfortable? Good.

Katherine Heigl is hot.

Kim Jong-Il is not a nice person.

Zack Morris is the coolest kid in the school.

Eric Cartman needs to lay off the cheesy poofs, snacky cakes and powdered donut pancake surprise.

Okay, I hope that I have now laid the groundwork for what is to come. I hope that the above realities have come as such a shock that you are now fully prepared for I have what to say next. I hope that you are thinking "Katherine Heigl is hot? Zack Morris is cool? Eric Cartman is fat? I always thought he was big boned!! I cannot believe it!!!" There is simply nothing else I can do to prepare you for what is coming next, so I will just come out and say it.

In 2003, Sammy Sosa tested positive for performance enhancing drugs.

Someone please pick George H.W. Bush off the floor. And see if you can get that pretzel out of his throat.

I know, I know, who saw that one coming? I mean, Sammy was the face of the Cubs from 1992-2004. What else are we going to learn about those beloved teams? That Rod Beck did not do a daily yoga routine? That Kyle Farnsworth liked the drinky drinky? That Mark Grace's little black book was not so little?

So, now there is "proof" that Sammy was not just popping Dinos, Barneys and Bam Bams. Wait a minute? Does this this mean that his corked bat was not really just for batting practice?

Of course, the big questions now involve how we should look at Sammy's legacy and whether he should be elected to the Hall of Fame. Well, those of you who have been readers of the Random Thoughts since its inception (back in those wonderful days when we believed that Cedric Benson could be the next Walter Payton and not the next Rashaan Salaam) may remember my thoughts on steroids and how players proven to have used performance enhancing drugs should be penalized. But, for the sake of those who are new to the RT, I have borrowed many of my original thoughts from May 2006. And to those of you who have heard this before, in the words of Sammy, I apallagi (and have thrown in some new stuff to entice you to keep reading).

My opinion of what I have referred to as the "Plague Upon the House of Baseball" is essentially the same now as it was then....whatever. Yes, I continue to recognize the disturbing impact that steroid use by our sports heroes can have on the little kiddies out there and I know that I should be concerned about the health and well being of the athletes that we grew up idolizing. Further, I appreciate that the steroid era has compromised the purity of the game to some degree, but the truth remains that it is too late to go back and change history. The truth is that until Dr. Emmett Brown comes along with his DeLoren and a pocketful of plutonium, there is really nothing we can do.

We now know that A-Rod, Giambi, Palmeiro and countless others did steroids and we have every reason to believe that Clemens, Bonds, McGwire, and Tejada did as well. Heck, for all we know Keith Moreland may have done steroids. In fact, I think the only person that we know for sure has not done steroids is Mark DeRosa. After all, those born on Krypton do not need no stinkin' drugs.

So, what are we going to do about it? Put an asterisk next to records? Suspend those players who are still playing? Keep them out of Hall of Fame? Send them to their bedrooms without any supper? Tell them they can't see the Itchy and Scratchy movie or have the sleepover they were sooooo looking forward to?

Here's what we should do...nothing. Absolutely nothing. Now that the "steroid era" has been confirmed and the new testing system has been put in place, it is time to move on. Asterisks? Suspensions? No supper? Please...

After all, why does it really matter if a juiced Ron Kittle tried to hit pitches thrown by a juiced Frank Viola?

First of all, most of the performance enhancing substances that players are being accused of having gotten involved with were NOT illegal when they were taken. "Yes, Mr. Wagner. I know that you were only going 35 miles an hour when you 'accidentally' ran over a drunk Hawk Harrelson and the posted speed limit was 65, but we have now lowered the limit to 15 mph, so it's off to the slammer with you. Be sure to say hi to Donte' Stallworth and Plaxico Burress for me."

Second, how can we be sure that steroids or HGH were responsible for Sammy's or Mark's or Augie Ojeda's home runs? Maybe it was the Flintstone vitamins. Maybe it was a Moutain Dew. Maybe it was a Red Bull? Did anyone ever check whether Sammy had sprouted wings? Does anyone know the true impact of performance enhancing drugs and do we count those home runs that smashed windows across the street but not those that landed in the basket?

I am sure you agree that there is no clean and simple way. And we should not even attempt to look for one.

Those who believe that confirmed users should be punished and kept out of the Hall of Fame will argue that we are talking about the most hallowed record in all of sports. More hallowed than Pete Rose's career hits. More hallowed than Kareem Abdul Jabaar's points. More hallowed than Derrek Lee's double plays hit into or Rich Hill's walks per innings pitched.

But how do we know that Hank Aaron was clean? Or Roger Maris? I mean, how do we really know?

They will argue that there were not the advancements in performance enhancing substances in the 20's, 50's, 60's that there are today and, as a result, modern day players have a tremendous advantage and are naturally going to hit more home runs (pun fully intended).

Well, don't you think that Barry Bonds would have liked to have played at the Polo Grounds where it was a measly 258 feet to the bleachers in right field? Sheesh, Little Babe Ruth may have hit 70 dingers a year there.

I think you get my point...

One of the most wonderful things about baseball is that it is not uniform. Stadiums are configured differently. Some players have the luxury of facing Washington Nationals' pitching 18 times a year. Others may catch a break and play a game with the wind blowing out in Wrigley and David Patton on the hill. Some have to contend with the south side distraction and fear of random nut jobs charging the field. There are a lot of factors that enter the equation.

Performance enhancing drugs are no doubt a BIG one. I am not denying that. But to act like it is the only factor...to act like players in the past did not enjoy advantages...to act like the glory years of baseball consisted of all-American young men, eating steak and potatoes, rescuing cats from trees and having enough energy to smile the grandest smile for the local press is foolish.

But steroids affect the player, himself, and, therefore, make performance no longer completely the result of natural ability they will argue.

Well, where do you draw the line? Hundreds of players take painkillers on a daily basis to be ready to take the field. Is this cheating? Should we bash Paul Konerko for taking a cortizone shot to return from what could have been a crippling wrist injury? Doesn't that take performance completely out of the Paulie's hands? What about the little pills Babe Ruth was sure to take after night-after-night of hanging out with Norm Peterson's grandfather? Should Pedro Cerrano be ostracized for relying on voodoo to boost his power numbers?

Look, I am not saying that painkillers are in the same ballpark as taking steroids. I just think that if we are going to make an all-encompassing argument that enhancing one's performance is bad, then one must look at all sides of the issue and be prepared to be overun by the worms that are sure to come spilling out of the can.

Finally, to test how ridiculous I can make this, do we need to ban "new and improved" equipment? How about those stupid looking shoes that were sold in the back of sports magazines that promised to make you jump higher? (Oh, come on, you know the ones I am talking about. With the big pads under the toes.) How about Blu Blockers?

Continue to investigate the use of steroids all you want if it will make you feel better to know that Albert Belle was juicing. Institute an even tougher testing policy. Penalize the violators who fail tests that are instituted under the new policy. Teach the children well. Demand the return of the purity of the game. But leave the past be the past.

And make sure Sammy gets his plaque in Cooperstown. He deserves it.

* By the way, with the news about Sammy's confirmed test, I have deleted all responses to the poll on whether he should be elected to the Hall of Fame so that everyone can re-vote. Please be sure to do so.

** Please also be sure to join the chat regarding the Cubs-Sox game in the comments to the "Today's Schedule" post immediately below!!

Looking Into My Crystal Ball...

I hate it.

Oh, I know I am supposed to like it. Heck, the Chicago media and the so-called baseball experts keep telling me that I am supposed to love it. But I don't.

It is certainly not the first or only thing that I am "supposed" to like that I simply don't. For example, I cannot understand the attraction of rubbing shoulders with thousands of sweaty people who smell like they just crawled out of the Death Star Space Station garbage compactor while eating seven dollar chicken-on-a-stick at the Taste of Chicago (although Bearister and I will be going to see BNL on June 3o if you would like to join us!). Further, I am not sure why I should care whether Warren Sapp is better at the Electric Slide or A.C. Slater can do a perfect Macarena and, therefore, do not waste my time watching Dancing With the Stars (although I will admit that I am curious to see Kelly Monaco do the Lambada). And, you know what? I think U2 is overrated. There, I said it. Overrated.

You see, the annual Cubs-Sox series is something that I really do not enjoy in the least. Frankly, the six days when the two Chicago baseball teams match-up are among my least favorite days of the year, ranking right up there with the annual trip to the dentist, the day after the end of the NCAA Tournament, and the day I clean all the dead animals out of the garage (I'd include the day I go for my annual heart checkup in the mix, but, well, you know...). The bottom line is there is way too much stress when the Cubs and Sox play. Frankly, after watching the games, I think I begin to understand how a live cat in a Beiging market must feel.

Now don't get me wrong... I certainly understand that the great rivalries are supposed to be the most fun games/ events to watch... the Hawks skating against the Red Wings; Ali and Frazier trading punches; the Sharks and Jets knife fighting over Maria; Danny's Little Giants taking on Kevin's Cowboys; Greg and Marcia dating complete morons just to get under each other's skin (although I have a sneaking suspicion that Greg may have had something else in mind if he could just get her to shut up... s-s-slu-t-t-t...). But they are not. Not in my world. I guess you can blame it on Mike Caruso. After all, the only reason anyone knows who the heck he is is compliments to a horrible Rick Aguilera fastball (although I think he may have been the kid in the background who was looking at the Ken dolls when Peter saved the little girl from being buried in a mountain of Kitty Carryalls).

Now, regardless of whether I like it or not, the games are going to be played. And, while I may not be Professor Sybil Trelawny or Miss Cleo, I think I have an idea regarding how everything is going to play out. So, let's take a look at what we can expect to happen this week at the Friendly Confines...

GAME 1: Jake Peavy (Cubs) vs. Jake Peavy (White Sox). Brian Roberts leads off the bottom of the first with a booming home run. Oh never mind...

GAME 1: Big Z (Cubs) vs. Jon Danks (Sox)

After an uneventful first inning, all hell breaks loose before the second. Big Z goes nuts when the electronic peanut is declared the winner over the almond in the Planter's scoreboard race. He tries to throw the scoreboard operator out of the game before being sent to the showers by the umps. On his way out, the Gatorade machine is not spared.

Meanwhile, in the visitors' dugout, Joey Cora continues to manage in place of Ozzie who cannot find a place to park. Too bad Ozzie is stuck at Grace and Halsted as he misses quite a game. First the Von Joshua factor enters the equation with the Cubs ringing out 18 runs on 38 hits (look, it is going to take a heck of a lot more than Von Joshua to get this team to hit in the clutch), but then the Cubs' bullpen factor enters the equation and the Sox score a bundle of their own. The game goes into the top of the 9th inning with the Cubs holding an 18-15 lead.

The Sox tie the game when, with the bases loaded and one out, A.J. Pierzynski hits a medium-range fly ball to right field. Afraid of throwing the ball into the stands, Hasbro Suckstein figures it is safer to run the ball to the plate, but trips and tears his hamstring, allowing all three runners to score. Mark Buehrle hits a pinch hit home run to win the game. Final score: Sox 19, Cubs 18.

GAME 2: Ryan Dempster (Cubs) vs Gavin Floyd (Sox)

Ozzie misses his second game of the series after being bitten by a rat in the Sox clubhouse. The Sox remember that they are the Sox and the Cubs remember that they are the Cubs and both teams revert to their nomal ways. Rich Harden suffers a bad case of wind burn from all Alfonso Soriano's, Kosuke Fukudome's and Josh Fields' swings and misses and is put on the 60-day disabled list. He is expected back in September... of 2014. After twenty-five innnings of scoreless baseball, Bud Selig calls the game and both teams go to Murphy's. Final Score: Cubs 0, Sox 0.

GAME 3: David Wells (Cubs) vs Jose Contreras (Sox)

Before the game, the Cubs announce two trades. In the first, they sent Randy Wells to the Old Country Buffett in exchange for David Wells and a Jabba the Hutt action figure. In the second, they trade Derrek Lee, Aramis Ramirez, Ted Lilly, Ryan Dempster, Ryan Theriot, Yosh Kawono, the rights to Marla Collins, Moises' old piss bucket, and a Mark Prior autographed MRI machine to Cleveland for Hank Aaron, er, Mark DeRosa and a Brian Boitano action figure. Upon arriving at the park, Wells mistakes Alexi Ramirez for a stick of beef jerky and eats him. DeRosa performs CPR on an old man who had a heart attack and delivers two babies in the third-base women's bathroom. He promises to work on Chicago's bid to host the Olympic games and then search the mountains of Afghanistan for Bin Laden.

With Ozzie not in attendance due to his promise to attend Hugo Chavez' birthday party, Joey Cora agrees with Lou to have only DeRosa and James Gordon Beckham and the pitchers play. Beckham hits a grounder to DeRosa who throws it to DeRosa to get Beckham. You get the picture. Rich Harden suffers severe eye strain from watching the two superstars go at it and will now be out until 2021. Jose Contreras and Bobby Scales talk about how how much stress the Civil War put on their families.

The game takes an odd turn when Beckham is too busy staring at Scotty Pods' wife to pay attention and is knocked unconscious when he is hit in the head by a line drive. DeRosa hits seven straight home runs to give the Cubs a 118-117 lead with the team only needing to get through the top of the 5th for it to be an official game. Carlos Marmol comes in and walks the first three "batters" on 12 pitches despite the fact that Beckham is being taken to the hospital and there is nobody in the batter's box. Mark DeRosa relieves Marmol and strikes out the side preserving a 118-117 Cubs' win.

So, like I said, I hate it.

* What do you think of the Cubs-Sox series? Please comment!!

The Missing Piece

Corey McFerrin is talking about it. Harry Teinowitz is talking about it. Mike Mulligan is talking about it. Heck, Jim Hendry may even be talking about it.

The one reason the Cubs have vastly underperformed this year. The one reason the team's offense has more difficulty scoring than a straight, white woman at a Ricky Martin concert. The reason that Carlos Marmol cannot throw strikes, Alfonso Soriano's batting average is now lower than my cholesterol level, and Lou has morphed into some strange Dusty Baker - Bruce Kimm hybrid. Possibly even the reason that Hasbro Suckstein forgot how many outs there were.

Heck, even the Random Thoughts has alluded to it at times.

Yes friends, we are talking about the absence of Mark DeRosa from the 2009 Chicago Cubs lineup.

I mean, consider the effect that losing DeRosa has had on the team and think about what the team would look like with his bat in the middle of the order. Need someone on base? Well, there's Mark and his .999 on base percentage. DeRosa, after all, gets on base more often than the aforementioned Soriano walks back to the dugout with his head down after wildly flailing at a 52-foot slider.

Need someone to hit a big home run? Yes sir, there's Mark and his 42 homeruns and 97 RBI. I always knew that Jae Kyuk Ryu was Korean for base-on-balls, but who knew that Sadahara Oh was Japanese for Mark DeRosa? Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa and Barry Bonds did not take steroids. They took Mark DeRosa pills.

Need clutch hitting? How about Mark and his .987 batting average? At this rate, DeRosa is going to have more hits in a six month span than the Beatles. After all, did you know that the only two official plate appearances this year when Mark did not get credited with a hit were when he wanted to get a 14-0 game over as quickly as possible so as to not miss his appointment visiting sick kids in the hospital and when he hit a home run but intentionally missed first base because he did not want the pitcher to feel bad.

How about versitility? Mark is well known for being able to do everything on a baseball field. In his Atlanta days, he played all nine positions, sold popcorn at the concession stand, consulted with Jane Fonda on her workout videos, and used mind control to keep John Rocker out of trouble. Then he moved on to Texas, where, yep, he played all nine positions, sold BBQ at the concession stands, offered relationship counseling to Jessica Simpson and Tony Romo, and figured out who really shot J.R. And now he is in Cleveland where he, you guessed it, plays all nine positions, bangs the big drum in centerfield, keeps JoBu plied with rum, acts as Ricky Vaughn's defense attorney, and magically repaired Jake Taylor's knees. In fact, I think LeBron James may actually be Mark DeRosa in disguise.

Want to know what hangs on the wall in the living room of the Dos Equis Most Interesting Man in the World? An autographed photo of DeRosa.

So, can you imagine what he would be able to do if he were in Chicago? Last year, he hit .763 with 116 HR and 428 RBI, saved three kids from being hit in the head with falling concrete at Wrigley, and redesigned Ronny's prothesis. This year, there is no doubt that he would be able to cure Aramis' shoulder injury, jump in the air and block the sun every time a fly ball is hit to Hasbro Suckstein, and keep Big Z calmer than a field mouse on tranquilizers. Keep DeRosa and the Cubs are 60-0. Mike Fontenot is still Little Babe Ruth. The Gatorade Machine still has a future. Random Thoughts Hottie #1 would pick my living room as the place to watch Cubs' games.

(Sorry Mrs. Cotts. Neal Cotts is still Neal Cotts. Nothing he could do about that. I said the guy is Mark DeRosa, not Brett Favre).

Look, Mark DeRosa is a nice player. Nice guy, excellent with the media and apparently a good clubhouse presence. But, c'mon people. Let's not overstate his value. Everytime I turn on sports talk radio, I hear the same thing... "The Cubs trading Mark DeRosa makes as much sense as hiring Rod Blagojvich to teach an ethics class." or "When Hendry traded DeRosa he must have been as confused as Chastity Bono." You'd think that the Cubs traded Brock for Broligio.

In retrospect, was trading DeRosa for three sticks of chewing gum, an old sweat sock and a used beta copy of Trading Places a good idea? No. Is it possible the the absence of DeRosa from the clubhouse has had a negative effect on the entire team? Yes. But, lets remember that he is Mark DeRosa and not act like he is Willie Mays, Albert Pujols or Roy Hobbs. OK?

Now, on the other hand, if you are talking about the nonsensical release of Daryle Ward...

Commit to the Indian!

In honor of the close to the 2008-09 NHL season that is sure to come tonight when the Penguins take on the Red Wings in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals, I would like to take one last look at this past season of Blackhawks' hockey, as well as take a look into the future. Besides, I can only make so many jokes about Rich Harden being hurt, can only complain about the performance of Hasbro Suckstein, and can only compare Kevin Gregg and Aaron Heilman to Matt Karcher and Dave Veres for so many days in a row before the RT will begin to resemble a Dave Matthews album (as in... isn't this essentially the exact same thing over and over).

Now, don't you worry, I'll assume that all of you will suffer the same fate as Jason Bourne this weekend and will likely be back to complaining about Harden's injured ovaries, the fact that the team is less likely to get a runner in from third with under two outs than Soriano is to finish the season with a league leading on-base percentage and reminding everyone that if they want playoff tickets this October they are going to need to visit http://www.princeryanandformercubcaseymcgehee.caseymcgehee/? or http://www.albertpujolsandabunchofnobodys.com/ depending on who ends up winning the Peavy sweepstakes this July. There is simply nothing like enjoying a brat and an Old Milwaukee while sitting next to Lenny and Squiggy at Miller Park or munching on some St. Louis spareribs and chugging a Budweiser while trying to spot Whitey Herzog and Tommy Herr in the Busch Stadium crowd. Just be sure to stop at the Mars Cheese Castle for a pound of cheddar and some rock candy. Don't worry about chipping a couple of teeth. You'll fit right in. And, for gosh sakes if the Cardinals win the NL Central, keep the windows down when you drive through East St. Louis and, whatever you do, do not stop to ask for directions. You know what happened to the Griswold family.

So let's talk pucks...

* The Hawks are in decent shape at the blueline with Seabrook and Keith, two mobile, puck-moving defensemen, anchoring the unit. Frankly, Seabrook and Keith have the potential to be an all-time great Chicago duo in the mold of Ernie and Billy, Wilbur and Otis, Ribbie and Rhubarb and Jake and Elwood. Seabrook and Keith are such an effective pairing that there is already talk that the two are likely to represent Team Canada at the 2010 Olympics. Them two sure can skate and shoot the puck, eh Gordie? Look, the bottom line is that I am not saying that the two of them are going to be as memorable a duo as when Courtney Cox Arquette spent an evening visiting Jennifer Aniston when she was in town filming "The Break-Up," but I also doubt they will go down as the next Wood and Prior or, god forbid, the next Curry and Chandler.

* Even the best pairings are most effective when they there is a third musketeer. I mean, can you imagine TLC without Left-Eye? They would just offer tender care, but no lovin'? And do you really think that Kelly and Jessie would have been able to literally participate in every single activity and sport at Bayside High without the support and assistance of Lisa Turtle? Even Scottie and Michael had Horace and later the Croatian Sensation. It is hard to say who will be the third dependable member of the Hawks' D next season, but the most promising candidate is Niklas Hjalmarsson. The Swedish defenseman is only 22 years old and showed excellent poise throughout the postseason, especially in game five versus Detroit.

* Brian Campbell is certainly never going to be a shutdown defensemen, but that is okay as long as he contributes offensively and finds himself in the right matchup. I know Chicago has not seen a defender make so many horrible mistakes in the playoffs since Peanut Tillman tried to cover Steve Smith in the 2005 Playoffs, but I still think Campbell has value. Like Marge when she wanted to spend Mr. Burns' fine to fix up Main Street while the rest of Springfield was enthralled by the idea of shiny, new monorail, I realize I am in the minority here, but I, for one, am not ready to write him off as bad signing quite yet. All offense and no defense? Just think Ben Gordon on skates.

* Up front, the Hawks are in great shape with Toews, Kane, Bolland, and Sharp leading the charge. Further, guys like Eager, Burish and Brouwer are excellent checking line options, who, although more likely to play the role of the "Killer" Carlson by knocking the living crap out of you, are also capable of playing the role of Ned Braden by putting the puck in the back of the net. I am also very confident that they will keep their clothes on.

I have already discussed my feelings on Havlat and Pahlsson, which leaves us with the team's three biggest 'X' factors up front - Ladd, Byfuglien and Versteeg. All three clearly have tremendous talent, but have specific things that they need to work on this summer. Ladd's offensive production simply does not match his talent level meaning he is the Blackhawks answer to Devin Hester. Versteeg needs to learn that not every play needs to involve a spin-o-rama, quick stop, triple lutz, drag move, and backhand shot to the top shelf and needs to learn to make the simple play. He gives up the puck too much at the offensive blue line and needs to play smarter. Byfuglien simply needs to remember that he is closer to the size of Michael Clarke Duncan than he is to the size of Emmanuel Lewis and needs to have his mail delivered to the front of the net. That is where he belongs.

* I have already covered my thoughts about the team's goaltending and I certainly do not want to go through the entire Huet or not to Huet argument again, so I will just remind you that Darren Pang is usually in the building working for the media and Baaaannneeerrrrmmmmaaannnn now lives in Naperville. Given the NHL rule that you can replace your goalie with anyone in the building (which I admit I did not know about until Khabibulin was injured in the playoffs and Corey Crawford was told to put down his nachos and put on his pads), I say they give Murray a complimentary season ticket.

* The bottom line is that this is a team that is prepared to do great things in the future. I wrote an entire post a couple of weeks back on how young the team is, but what I did not stress enough is how talented they are, which is what matters most. After all, some of us can certainly remember Dollar Bill and Bob Pulford promoting young "superstars" Dimitri Nabokov and Jean-Yves Leroux and Nabokov is now the night-shift supervisor at a Stoli plant in Volgograd and J.Y. serves croissants at the Chez Thibault when he is not doing maintenance work at the mansion home of Eric Daze's dress designer.

Now I am not suggesting that the Hawks steal a former marketing slogan from the White Sox (And, no, I am not talking about "Grinder Rule #666: Home Plate at Wrigley is the Gateway to Hell" or even "Gratuitous Pictures of Scotty Pods' Wife To the First 10,000 Through the Turnstiles.") Nope, I am talking about "The Kids Can Play," although I suggest changing it to "The kids Can Win a Stanley Cup."

* One final note: Home court, field, or ice advantage is undoubtedly a major advantage in any sport. After all, it is hard to argue that the Cubs occasionally raise their level of play when they take the field in front of 42,000 drunk twentysomethings that would not know Dallas Green from Dallas Texas or Rick Reuschel from Kurt Russell, 1,000 blue-haired ladies who took a Greyhound over from the Quad Cities and 50 or so who would actually be there even if the team was 25 games under .500. And most would agree that the Bears may play better in front of 45,000 screaming maniacs in Brian Urlacher jerseys (and one poor dude who wasted $75 on a Chris Williams) or that the Bulls lift their game when they know that Benny the Bull, Da Bull and the fat guys who dance around in-between timeouts have their back, and the White Sox are likely to perform more effectively when they take the field in front of Mad Chemist, the aforementioned Lisa Dergan, the guy who was with Jose Contreras when they heard that Lincoln had been shot, Bobby Jenks' personal donut maker, and 300 other people who still worship at the altar of Harold Baines.

That said, there is no sport where home advantage is more important than hockey (although it is tough to argue with Big 10 basketball given that you can predict calls long before they are made depending on where the game is played -- I swear the Wisconsin Badgers have not committed a foul at the Kohl Center in eight years). This is due to what is known as the "last change rule," which allows the home coach to dictate the precise matchups he wants, and it is the reason Detroit will win the Cup tonight. Simply stated, Red Wings coach Mike Babcock is able to have defensive stalwarts Nik Lidstrom and Henrik Zetterberg on the ice every time Sidney Crosby takes a shift. And, although Sid the Kid has not been his usual self, even at home, the effect is clear as he is a -3 with zero points in three games at The Joe and "even" with three points in three games in the Steel City. It is the same rule that allowed Coach Q to ensure that Seabrook and Keith were on the ice for every Jerome Iginla and Henrik Sedin shift at the UC, which certainly worked to the Hawks' advantage. And it is the same rule that will help the Wings take Game Seven by a score of 4-1 and the reason that a mid-winter game in Edmonton or Phoenix can make all the difference in the world when it comes to a team's postseason prospects. Keep that in mind next year when Toews and Kane combine for 175 points.

Have a great weekend!!