3.31.2006
Staying Tuned
No, we haven't died yet. We just decided there's no better time than March to duck out for a quick Mozambique getaway to refuel for a long and glorious MLB season. (Actually there were many better times and no Mozambique, but what's done is done.) The day when we can quit our nine-to-five jobs and focus on MLBeat full time, steadily approaching as it may be, has not yet arrived. Until then, a natural lull in the postings is often a possibility as the dreaded "life events" warrant. Such are the quirky charms of the amateur sports blogosphere.
Fear not though, for on tap are such heavily anticipated items as a recap of the much-ballyhooed World Baseball Classic, an update on the ongoing Cheater Chronicles, and of course our full-on 2006 Preview, but in the meantime we owe it to you to at least gloss over some of the best of March's happenings:
The Soriano flap. This has actually worked out well as possible for the average fan. It's been months since Nationals GM Jim Bowden, in a classic case of How Not To, traded for Soriano to man the outfield. Right away Soriano complained, but the rest of the winter was apparently a game of chicken: neither side budged, and Soriano apparently didn't even bother learning how to play his potential new position, judging by his spring training mishaps. Soriano has never had any leverage in this saga, but that doesn't make Bowden any smarter for bringing him on board. But highlight-addicted fans will surely enjoy the escapades of a man primed to make the outfield look much harder than Ryan Klesko or Lonnie "Skates" Smith ever did.
The annual onset of Mets pessimism is late in coming. Just pointing out that the pundits are more hopeful for the Mets than any year since the 20th century, as much a function of the Braves' numerous question marks as anything else. But let's stay prepared for the inevitable April losing streak -- perhaps coinciding with their early jaunt out here to Telephone Park -- and remain confident that by July the only remaining mystery will be how long until Philly blows it again.
Steroids. Chances are you've heard about this suddenly urgent issue. It's much ado about...well, not nothing, but at this point it's unclear what exactly. We all know Barry Bonds has been established as a juicer, certainly, but at this point much of the media focus seems to be on the prevalence of steroids amongst the witches yet to be hunted in the league, mixed in with a certain degree of resignation because Bonds still appears to be the only man who can stop himself from playing this year. Meanwhile, a great debate is stirring up as a Bud Selig investigation (a phrase which ranks up there with "diet bottled water" in terms of potency) gets underway, spurred by the hesitance of major sponsors like Pepsi to underwrite any hypothetical Aaron-surpassing celebrations. But Bonds plans to play, and his 2.000 spring OPS leaves little doubt as to his expected effectiveness when he does take the field. Frankly, if Game of Shadows is to be believed (which it is), and if Bonds has never tested positive for anything more than general assholery (which he hasn't), then there's not much reason to think he'll be off the "shit" this year, despite all the self-righteous concern swirling about him.
Bronson Arroyo thrown under the bus. Poor bastard had it all: rock band idol status, a spot in Boston's rotation, the coveted status of being one of the fewer and fewer remaining 2004 postseason heroes, a fresh contract extension, a team that looked like it was really going to need him in '06, plus...well, I guess those cornrows were once appealing to somebody out there. Now, despite recent asurances of a future in Boston, he's been banished to Flyball Pitcher's Hell along with Eric Milton and Co.
I sign up for five fantasy leagues. Thus shattering my previous single-season best of three. Look, you don't understand, okay? I don't have a problem. There's no problem. You're the one with the problem. Shut up! I hate this family! ::Runs upstairs crying::
Ankiel hits another bump in the road. Now there are rumors of knee trouble, but not all is lost. Apparently the Cardinals are looking for a way to push Ankiel through waivers so that, once unclaimed, he can return to the minors to start the season, and reports of a knee injury will certainly help scare teams away. I guess this is because Ankiel is out of options. Have you ever looked at the rules for options? I'm pretty sure someone is making them up as they go along.
Jimmy Rollins prepares to hit the ground running. At least until he goes 0-for-4 in the opener, thus ending his 36-game hitting streak and dissolving the suspense. Soak it in, Jimmy, while it's still there.
Retirements. Al Leiter, master of the cutter and hopefully a future broadcaster. Tuffy Rhodes, a name forever synonymous with Opening Day glory. Marquis Grissom, onetime basestealing wizard turned late-career platoon asset. And last but not least, the baseball world can finally bid adieu to Anna Benson, before she even got a chance to have a Morganna phase.
ESPN does some things right for a change. We like to rip on them, as does much of the outside commentariat. And frankly, they deserve it, for reasons too numerous to mention. But they still have some strong columnists on staff, and a couple of recent pieces in particular deserve mention. This one, by Page 2 editor David Schoenfield, bitterly bemoans the tragic fact that baseball fans still drink the competitive imbalance Kool-Aid. And this Insider-only piece by Buster Olney addresses the ongoing steroids charade with such damning vitriol that anything else we were going to say on the subject has been rendered moot.
Fear not though, for on tap are such heavily anticipated items as a recap of the much-ballyhooed World Baseball Classic, an update on the ongoing Cheater Chronicles, and of course our full-on 2006 Preview, but in the meantime we owe it to you to at least gloss over some of the best of March's happenings:
The Soriano flap. This has actually worked out well as possible for the average fan. It's been months since Nationals GM Jim Bowden, in a classic case of How Not To, traded for Soriano to man the outfield. Right away Soriano complained, but the rest of the winter was apparently a game of chicken: neither side budged, and Soriano apparently didn't even bother learning how to play his potential new position, judging by his spring training mishaps. Soriano has never had any leverage in this saga, but that doesn't make Bowden any smarter for bringing him on board. But highlight-addicted fans will surely enjoy the escapades of a man primed to make the outfield look much harder than Ryan Klesko or Lonnie "Skates" Smith ever did.
The annual onset of Mets pessimism is late in coming. Just pointing out that the pundits are more hopeful for the Mets than any year since the 20th century, as much a function of the Braves' numerous question marks as anything else. But let's stay prepared for the inevitable April losing streak -- perhaps coinciding with their early jaunt out here to Telephone Park -- and remain confident that by July the only remaining mystery will be how long until Philly blows it again.
Steroids. Chances are you've heard about this suddenly urgent issue. It's much ado about...well, not nothing, but at this point it's unclear what exactly. We all know Barry Bonds has been established as a juicer, certainly, but at this point much of the media focus seems to be on the prevalence of steroids amongst the witches yet to be hunted in the league, mixed in with a certain degree of resignation because Bonds still appears to be the only man who can stop himself from playing this year. Meanwhile, a great debate is stirring up as a Bud Selig investigation (a phrase which ranks up there with "diet bottled water" in terms of potency) gets underway, spurred by the hesitance of major sponsors like Pepsi to underwrite any hypothetical Aaron-surpassing celebrations. But Bonds plans to play, and his 2.000 spring OPS leaves little doubt as to his expected effectiveness when he does take the field. Frankly, if Game of Shadows is to be believed (which it is), and if Bonds has never tested positive for anything more than general assholery (which he hasn't), then there's not much reason to think he'll be off the "shit" this year, despite all the self-righteous concern swirling about him.
Bronson Arroyo thrown under the bus. Poor bastard had it all: rock band idol status, a spot in Boston's rotation, the coveted status of being one of the fewer and fewer remaining 2004 postseason heroes, a fresh contract extension, a team that looked like it was really going to need him in '06, plus...well, I guess those cornrows were once appealing to somebody out there. Now, despite recent asurances of a future in Boston, he's been banished to Flyball Pitcher's Hell along with Eric Milton and Co.
I sign up for five fantasy leagues. Thus shattering my previous single-season best of three. Look, you don't understand, okay? I don't have a problem. There's no problem. You're the one with the problem. Shut up! I hate this family! ::Runs upstairs crying::
Ankiel hits another bump in the road. Now there are rumors of knee trouble, but not all is lost. Apparently the Cardinals are looking for a way to push Ankiel through waivers so that, once unclaimed, he can return to the minors to start the season, and reports of a knee injury will certainly help scare teams away. I guess this is because Ankiel is out of options. Have you ever looked at the rules for options? I'm pretty sure someone is making them up as they go along.
Jimmy Rollins prepares to hit the ground running. At least until he goes 0-for-4 in the opener, thus ending his 36-game hitting streak and dissolving the suspense. Soak it in, Jimmy, while it's still there.
Retirements. Al Leiter, master of the cutter and hopefully a future broadcaster. Tuffy Rhodes, a name forever synonymous with Opening Day glory. Marquis Grissom, onetime basestealing wizard turned late-career platoon asset. And last but not least, the baseball world can finally bid adieu to Anna Benson, before she even got a chance to have a Morganna phase.
ESPN does some things right for a change. We like to rip on them, as does much of the outside commentariat. And frankly, they deserve it, for reasons too numerous to mention. But they still have some strong columnists on staff, and a couple of recent pieces in particular deserve mention. This one, by Page 2 editor David Schoenfield, bitterly bemoans the tragic fact that baseball fans still drink the competitive imbalance Kool-Aid. And this Insider-only piece by Buster Olney addresses the ongoing steroids charade with such damning vitriol that anything else we were going to say on the subject has been rendered moot.
