Lazy Sunday Dry Run

"He's become a writer. It doesn't take long. Keith Law is officially an idiot."

That's Toronto Blue Jays GM J.P. Ricciardi quoted in the Toronto Sun yesterday about former employee Law, now a columnist/blogger at ESPN.com. You can feel the maple syrup-infused love from across the border.

There's an actual situation here, a nice little backstab by Law, who wrote (ESPN Insider link) that Wells "has told Blue Jays' management that he has no intention of signing a contract extension to stay in Toronto." The problem being that Wells, when asked, called that "a complete fabrication."

Regardless of the merits of the case (I agree Wells is probably gone, maybe to the Red Sox ... but I don't have any actual, you know, proof), I found Ricciardi's choice of words to be interesting. Note that Law hasn't become "a liar." Oh, no. Nothing that innocuous.

He's become "a writer." I know, it's bad. Hide your little ones.

That's the attitude most (if not all) front office types assume when it comes to us chattering types, the ones who put cyber pen to virtual paper in pursuit of better enjoying these great games played by men. Your average general manager just doesn't think much of that sort of thing.

Which is fine and dandy. Because we, in turn, are free to not think much of what they do.

For example, I didn't think too much of Ricciardi's decision to give Eric Hinske to the Red Sox for nothing more than shipping and handling fees, sending along half of his salary for next year in the process. Reasonable people can disagree on how much help he'll be to the Sox, but a lefty bat with an .865 OPS isn't something you toss away when you're relying on Reed Johnson, Lyle Overbay and Frank "Weenie" Catalanotto not turning into pumpkins.

Salary flexibility? Sure. More financial elbow room with which Ricciardi can work his magical roster-buffing transactions. Like, for example, signing Eric Hinske to a five-year extension. You see my point here?

Other GMs Cheddar Ben doesn't hold much truck for include Philly head honcho Pat Gillick, who you may remember as the stiff from the opening chapter of "Moneyball." It's only sort of his fault that the Phillies are such a joke that even an impressive three-game run of decisive victories against the Mets earlier this week did basically nothing to worry anyone. Three games under. Pathetic.

But we can feel free to deride his Bobby Abreu-dumping ass all we want. Gillick "cleared salary" without getting a single top prospect from the Yankees, all for one of the most valuable players in the game. And thus the paradox persists -- anyone who would slash and burn a team as such in search of financial freedom is probably also going to be pretty bad at spending that same money.

(The Phillies, in case you hadn't heard, play in the largest uncontested media market in the country, take the field beneath a new, taxpayer-funded stadium, and have a star pitcher apparently winded from beating his wife too much. Let's hear it, people!)

But as fun as being a critical idiot writer can be, I can't do that forever. Rather, I want to let Y2K's readers know how I envision this whole Sunday posting thing going.

You're going to see a mix of weekly roundup stuff, links to Met-loving and Yankee-hating items of interest, and a look ahead to the next seven days. Something to tide everyone over, and keep a lazy Sunday imbued with a proper amount of Y2K appreciation.

For example:

• This guy thinks Jose Reyes' lack of stature is going to prevent him from hitting for any power in the long term. A.F.O.M.G. may have something to say about this.
• The Shawn Green trade still hasn't happened yet, and people are starting to get antsy. Green was pissed about being held out of two games earlier in the week. The D-Backs have also called up stud outfield prospect Chris Young, who could push Eric Byrnes into an outfield corner for the remainder of the season in the event of a trade. My opinion is that Shawn, once a rare six-tool star (average, power, speed, arm, fielding, being Jewish), is D-U-N done, and the Mets should let Blastings play through his rookie cuts. More on this during the week as the story develops, in the event it does.
  
• Those intrepid editors at the Daily News had to stay up all night thinking of this gem. Which, let's just say, hasn't caught on yet.
• Marchman sez these Mets ain't the '86 Mets. Dick.
• Franco for SecDef! Alternatively, as a secretary of Health and Human Services, Julio might be persuaded to share the secret of his magical age-defying elixir with the rest of us mortals.
• You know, D-Wright goes through one little slump, nothing out of the ordinary, and all of a sudden, people start losing their minds. Honestly, I like their guy, but the writers in Cincy have to do something better with their time.

Anyhoo, look for more of the same along the way. The ball-doctoring magicians known as the Colorado Rockies are in town, and I'm off to Shea for a matinee.

Take care everyone, and enjoy the rest of the weekend.