RIP Anna Benson

(Note: Double the content here at Y2K. First up is Sip's piece about the divorce of Kris and Anna Benson. Immediately following that post is A.F.O.M.G.'s tribute to the top 10 songs that immediately remind us of the Mets. Enjoy.)

I thought I would take today off. But I just couldn't.

See, back in my 14 months in the show, the paralegaling game that is, there was one certainty every single day.

That I would work? Afraid not. See, paralegals may be the most useless people in the world, and there were days when I sat at a desk and did absolutely NOTHING.

Think? If you count Y2K, thought, well yes, but good thing for me AFOMG does the editing.

No, the one thing I would do every single day was go up to the cafeteria and get a big breakfast, eat at my desk for an extended period of time, and then sit for about ten minutes, till it was game time.

I would rise up from my chair, grab my girl in my hand, and take my stroll 15 feet down the hall.

I had a date with perfection, her name, the NY Post.

I would sit on the can for a good 15 minutes, 2 objectives in mind. One, the sports section. Second and more important, Page Six.

My first stop on the shitter every day was Page Six, the Post's daily trashy gossip column. No reason to deny this, Senior turned me onto it back when I became a bar mitzvah, a man, and since then I have never looked back.

So yesterday, a Page Six legend left us.

It was announced that Stripper Legend, Mets Legend, and legend of many the spank banks Anna Benson has filed for divorce from #4 starter legend Kris Benson.



What a shame. When I think about my future nuptials, I imagine a relationship like theirs and a wife like her. ALL CLASS.

Anna's reason for filing was apparently that she caught Kris cheating on her.

Now you all remember what she said if she found out Kris was cheating on her back in NY. Ya know, that she would fuck every memmber of the Mets organization from the players to the locker room attentdants?

You have to wonder if the "baseball only on his mind" kid, D Wright was upset. Cliffy was telling him that he may have found his shot at losing the old V Card but it all happened a week too late.

So J Schubes is smiling down in Charm City: Baltimore. Word on the street is that Melvin Mora has just planted his seed in Anna to the tune of Tentuplets, giving him 97 kids.

And J Schubes, Orioles Fan of the game back in the Summer of '04, might even get a crack at her too.

Her exploits aside, the news of their divorce demands that we consider the trade of Anna's husband once again. It was widely speculated that the trade of Kris Benson for Jorge Julio and John Maine was not a salary dump or a final move to shore up the bullpen, but rather it was a wife dump. When talking to KFC last night I told him that my least favorite of Wheel and Deal's moves was the Benson deal, that it got us nothing and lost us pitching depth.

That said, if the divorce had happened three months earlier, would we still have made this move? Would this divorce have rid Kris of Anna and the Mets of the distraction she posed? Is the Mets front office kicking itself for not only missing out on the chance to score with Anna Ballgame but also for losing a consistently average major league pitcher?

Tough questions all; who can say?

It's all good though. Opening day is on Monday and the Mets are undefeated!

VCD,

SM

The Sounds of Summer

What’s up guys, A Friend of Mr. Glass’ here. Big day for us here at the site as today concludes the final work week without regular season baseball. It hasn’t been easy, but by god, we’ve made it.

Now I promise to make a formal prediction about the upcoming season of Mets baseball before the first pitch is thrown, but before we take a look forward, I wanted to take a quick look back.

See, here at Y2K we try and give you a little something something that you can’t get anywhere else. With that in mind, there’s a topic I’ve been meaning to write about all offseason, but never got around to doing.

That changes now.

Maybe I was just desperate for baseball, or anything Mets related, but I distinctly remember hearing the song "Hypnotize" by my man B.I. up above a few months back and being flooded with memories of one overweight individual.

Not Biggie. Nope. Butch Huskey.

For parts of 1 and a half seasons, Big Butch never stepped to the plate without the sounds of “Hypnotize” blaring through the speakers at Shea.

And that got me thinking that there are any number of songs that I instantly associate with certain players, or with the Mets in general. So without further ado, allow me to present 10 songs that always remind me of the Mets. These songs are presented in no particular order, for the most part.

10. Jay Payton – “Got Your Money” (ODB); Derek Bell – “Big Pimpin’” (Jay-Z); Huskey – “Hypnotize” (Notorious B.I.G.)

So I’ve already talked about Huskey but I didn’t feel like I could leave him off this list. This is about as thugged out as it’s gotten over the years at Shea, although Payton’s choice of ODB’s 1999 smash easily takes the cake in terms of the most explicit song ever broadcast over the Shea airwaves (of course, they only played the intro, but the point stands).

Honorable mention for the thugged out list would include Mike Cameron’s choice of “Welcome to New York City”, also by Jay-Z. This one couldn’t quite crack the list, however, largely because I associate the Obie Trice knockoff “Welcome to Detroit City” too heavily with my junior year of college, not Mets baseball.

In any event, anything that reminds me of Derek Bell makes me smile.

He lived on a yacht. He wore his uniform baggy. He spotted a friend of B.O.A.F.O.M.G.'s sitting in the stands and sent the batboy over to get her number. And for something like the first two months of the season he hit .400, before getting displaced by Timo Perez and then, years later, initiating Operation Shutdown.

9. Kaz Matsui – “Bruce Lee Theme”

No idea who this song is by or where it comes from, but this one takes the cake for being the biggest headscratcher on the team. I have no idea how it would be possible for this song, or at least the part of it they play, to psyche a person up. Maybe that’s cultural ignorance talking, but all I know is that Kaz has sucked in both of his major league seasons. This song, bizarre but nonetheless awesome as it is, does not appear to be helping.

8. “Don’t Stop Believin’” (Journey)

Journey defined 1980s power ballads the way the phrase “Ya gotta believe” defines Mets fans, so it only makes too much sense any time the people running the sound system decide to pump the shit out of this song during Mets games.

I can’t remember when it was (it may have happened during several seasons), but there was a time there when the Mets would play this song after every victory. It might have been 2002, given the team’s slogan that year, “Always Believe,” drew its resonance from Tug McGraw’s immortal pledge.

(As I said in a fantasy draft last night, has there ever been a more derivative slogan than that one? Can't you just picture the sloganeers sitting around a room, depressed, completely out of ideas, and asking themselves what the most generic slogan they could possibly get away with would be?)

Anyway, whatever season(s) it was, chances are it wasn’t the last time you’ll hear Journey’s 1981 classic at Shea.

7. “We Will Rock You” (Queen)

I know what you’re thinking. How on earth does he identify this ubiquitous song with the Mets?

Easy answer: The 1986 Mets Tape.

Truth is, I was raised on that tape. I can’t even conceive of how many times I’ve seen that video. As anyone who’s familiar with the tape knows, “We Will Rock You” is heard each time the calendar flips ahead to the next month, but that's nothing compared to the culminating cheer of "We willl... we will... ROCK YOU!" that the Game 7 crowd jubilantly cried in the run-up to the team’s first title in 17 years.

Meanwhile, that was 20 years ago. Yeesh.

6. Mike Piazza/Robin Ventura – “Ice, Ice Baby” (Vanilla Ice)

Easily the most obscure entry on this list, “Ice, Ice Baby” by Vanilla Ice greeted Mike Piazza to the plate exactly one night in his Mets career.

The year was 2001. Desperate to break out of a season-long funk, Piazza had dyed his hair platinum blond.

Back in those days, Mets players were permitted to wear facial hair, and few players took more creative advantage of that right than Piazza.

One day, the Monster showed up with a most unusual design shaved into his beard. Describing it is nearly impossible, the best I can explain is this: imagine entwined, interlocking vines with a little space between the vines. That’s kind of how Piazza’s beard looked that night. Needless to say, it looked ridiculous.

Seizing upon Piazza’s fashion don’t, Rockin’ Robin had the Shea tunesters swap Piazza’s customary heavy metal with Vanilla Ice’s breakthrough rap song. Piazza was not amused, and the song was never heard at Shea Stadium again (at least in the context of Piazza). But to this day, every time I hear that song, I think of Robin’s prank.

5. Lenny Dykstra/Wally Backman – “Wildboys” (Duran Duran)

Another track that needs no explanation for any viewer of the ’86 Mets tape, this song encapsulates one of the more exciting aspects of the '86 team. To quote Keith Hernandez, everybody likes the “hardnosed, Pete Rose type players” that Backman and Dykstra were. I still remember my friend, the street legend known as Sepa, sweating the shit out of these two guys. I was always more of a Strawberry guy, but Backman and Dykstra, as immortalized by Duran Duran, were strong picks for favorites on the '86 team.

4. “Who Let the Dogs Out” (Baha Men)

I really wish this one didn’t have to make the list. This song sucks, and it always bothered me that it was the victory song for the 2000 Mets. I think it was a Timo Perez product, but I could be wrong about that.

One way or another, the song sucks but that team was great. Lot of great memories. Each victory in late 2000 came packed with a little Baha Men; whether that's something we should be proud of, that's debateable, but hey, there's no accounting for taste.

Neither the team nor its victory song could hold a candle to the one that preceded it, however, and that brings us to No. 3 on this list.

3. "L.A. Woman" (The Doors)

A classic. I’m tempted to say that no other song is as closely identified with a single team in Mets history as this song is with the 1999 Mets. A Robin Ventura product, "L.A. Woman" blasted triumphantly after every win. While the whole song is great, the part that will always be most fondly remembered by Mets fans is the “mojo rising” segment that begins in between minutes 4 and 5 of this 7-minute song.

“Mojo rising” became a team motto on par with “Ya gotta believe” for the 1999 team, and even to this day you still occasionally see a sign about getting the mojo rising.

That song is identified with the entire 1999 team, but for me, I’ll always best remember it playing after the win in Game 5 of NLCS, the grand slam single game. Easily the greatest postseason game I’ve ever been to. Who better than Robin to get the game-winning hit, and what better words to hear than "mojo rising" over the loudspeakers. The way it starts slow before building to a near orgasmic crescendo -- what's not to love?

And as I stood there with the Hound, me freezing, finally able to put my jacket back on (I had taken it off immediately before John Olerud's game-tying home run, and consequently had to leave it off for the next 10 innings on a drizzly October night), with Robin Ventura getting mobbed by his teammates while Jim Morrison grew ever more energized in the background, I had a sense that it might never get any better than that. It was heaven.

2. “Get Metsmerized” (1986 Mets)

The infamous rap song produced by the 1986 Mets. Confession time: I’ve never actually heard it. Chances are you haven’t either, but I’ve definitely read about it, and am desperate to hear it someday. If anyone knows where I can get a copy, please tell me. If anyone has a copy and is coming to the tailgate, please bring it. I’d kill a youngling to hear this song, what do I care?

Years later, Dontrelle Willis and Juan Pierre would freestyle during the Florida Marlins’ victory parade following their championship win over the Yankees in 2003. Their raps were terrible, but possibly better than “Gets Metsmerized” from everything I’ve heard. One way or another, baseball met rap music with the 1986 Mets, and “Get Metsmerized” lives on in the imaginations of youthful fans who never had the pleasure of hearing Howard Johnson spit it.

1. “You Belong to the City” – Glenn Frey

The final song on this list is yet another entry from the 1986 Mets tape. The song appears on the tape in just the moment when the announcer is explaining how that Mets team captured the heart of the city. It was a time of Yankee embarrassment and Mets domination, it was a time when the pulse of the city hung on the Mets' every move.

That's the way I like to think of the Mets today. Sure, it's not the case. This is, at the moment, a Yankee-dominated town. But for me, whenever I hear this song, I realize that this hasn't always been a Yankee town, nor will it forever be one. For there was a time when it was all Mets all the time, and if we're lucky, and if the Curse prevails, we may just see that time come round again sooner than we think.

Anyway, that's all I got. If I left off any crucial songs, please feel free to suggest them on the comment board.

I'll be back with predictions for the upcoming season later today or during the weekend, and it was Sip's plan to write a piece about the breakup of Mr. and Mrs. Anna Benson, so keep checking in for those.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Here We Go

So I have about as good a 4 day weekend ahead of me as I could imagine.

Hop the redeye Thursday night from San Jose to JFK where I arrive @ 6:30 (Note: first Reader to volunteer to pick up Sip from the airport gets 5 percent of Y2K, which, if AFOMG and I have our way, should be worth about $40,000,000 by 2008)

Reunite With the Cousin, J Schubes, AFOMG, the Penn Crew and some of the other Dutchmen for a big night in NY.

Saturday we have the Final 4.

Sunday we open the season with the #2 squad of Y2K, The Tribe, kicking off the season.

And then we have Monday. Maybe the best day ever.

We have Opening day, the best event of the year. We have the NCAA Finals. And we find out who is bad in 24.

So life is good for Sip. But is it good for the Mets? Below, we'll have the 10 keys to the Mets season. Most are baseball related, but others have to to with certain issues, completely non baseball related that will have what I believe is as big of an impact as anything on the field.

10. Carlos Beltran

This guy has to get his act together for a number of reasons. First, and most obvious, he stunk last year and is being paid like a top 5 player in baseball. Last year he was lucky to crack the top 100. We're paying this guy for 5 tools. On a good day last year we saw 1.


More importantly, we need to give D Wright one more year of not completely being "The Guy." By 2007 the Mets will be the team of the Golden Boy, however, I'd like to give him one more year to develop.

Luckily, there's hope yet for Beltran. He'll start the season 28 years old. The break-in year that we've grown used to for big money guys in New York is behind him. Between Carlos Delgado and David Wright, he's no longer expected to be the biggest thumper in the lineup. A lot of the pressure is off, time for him to play like he's capable of playing.

So Carlos, step up. Next year is now.

9. Nick "The Voice's" Paralegaling needs to come to an end

Clearly an issue of karma. Nicky started with me at Paralegal U back in August of '04. While Young Sip maintained the few ounces of dignity that he could muster by getting out of the game late last fall, The Voice still remains in the show.

The kid needs to get out. He is supposed to be out of the game by June, but that bet is fading fast.

Truth is, if Nicky remains in the show, my energy will not be fully focused on the Mets, shifting the energy of a city and drowning the Mets' hopes.

8. The rotation needs to stay healthy

One major injury to Pedro and the season will look grim. A lot of pressure is falling on his injured toe.

But the rest of the old rotation, mainly Tommy the Spy and Shitty Trachsel, need to pitch 200 innings. These guys are both approaching their 50's making this a lot to ask, but we need them.

Everything needs to go right this year, and everything starts with pitching. We need Bannister to come in here and be a serviceable No. 5 starter. We don't need to ask for the world from him, but if he can go for a .500 record, well, that's basically what we would have gotten out of Kris Benson.

As for Zambrano, look, he's never going to justify the trade, but he's put up some good numbers this spring and if he can parlay that into a regular season with 11-14 wins out of the 4 hole I'd take it.

7. Fez needs to be taken out

If for some reason something bad happens to Wilmer Valderrama this year, I know god will be on my side. Man do I hate that fuck. At his bday in Vegas at the club we were at, the guy MC'd the place, and it was flat out painful. Knowing that that guy is a "playboy" in holiday makes me quiver and led cousin Jason to put it very simply:

"Case in point why life isn't fair... if he gets to bang all those chicks, I should have at least been granted a Jabril Hodges three at the buzzer to secure the Long Beach State cover." (Referring to meaningless championship week bball, in which Jason felt the need to invest his children's college fund... which is why he is my hero).

6. Need some help from the Braves

The Braves have been the class of this division since I was about 8. I don't like the Braves. So we need some bad things to happen to them. What will start it all is that their bullpen is straight bad.

They have Chris Reitsma closing and a middle relief filled with journeymen.

We need to get out to a decent sized lead in this division because John Schuerholz is a deadline wizard. Last year, with the bullpen in disarace he stole Kyle Farnsworth from the Tigers when most other teams didn't even know he was available.



One injury to John Smoltz, combined with a declining Tim Hudson and the Braves could crack. We will need that help.

5. D Wright, Keep Growing

As I have said many a time, this is the guy that will bring us our championship. He has seen his last vacation in July for ten years and he will hopefully see his last spot in the lineup other than 3 or 4 in no longer than a couple of months.

We need to hope that this kid just keeps growing. We shouldn't force him to take over this team, but if he just happened to do it on his own, that would be a good sign.

4. Brother Sip pops the question to wifey

My brother sometimes get overlooked on this site. Let's just say he is a Sippy Momo Sr. in training. All class.

He found the right girl a while's back and now it's his time to take the plunge. He has the classic fears that most guys do, but truth is, there isn't a member of our family not pulling for this one.

Let's just say if big bro pulls this off then karma will be at an all time high in the Momo family.

It will be at its highest since Senior called Bob Stanley's wild pitch. So make it happen big bro, and maybe we can celebrate later this year with a wedding ring for you and a championship ring for the Mets.

3. Uncle Cliffy and Aaron Heilman

These were the two biggest non-David Wright bright spots of '05. Cliffy was healthy and Heilman was dominant. Both were great, having seasons well beyond what we expected.



Everyone is penciling in the numbers for these guys, especially with Heilman, as though it is a lock that they repeat their '05 production.

Not so fast. These guys need to do it again. As I said before, everything needs to go right for this one to work. Otherwise, there is simply not enough pitching for this team to win.

2. The Warriors win the championship

Right now I think we are 4 out of the playoffs with about 10 to go. Still, despite a tough 1 point loss to New Orleans/Oklahoma tonight, the boys have looked great of late.

Big Fella's big scoring about 19 per over his last 8 and the Warriors look like they belong.

Let's just say that if somehow these guys can pull off the miracle, sneak into the playoffs, and creep their way thru the Western conference playoffs, only to upset the Pistons in the finals, well, then anything is possible.

Even the New Mets.

Good things always happen in bunches for my sports teams. The Mets and Giants won in '86. The Mets and Giants made the World Series/Superbowl in 2000.

Why not the Mets and Warriors in '06?

Crazier things have happened...Heck, George Mason is in the Final 4.

1. BILLY WAGNER

We brought this guy on board to be on the mound for the last inning of our season in October. He's the first dominant closer that we as Mets fans have seen in at least my entire life.

But still, BW comes with a ton of question marks.

Mainly, he hasn't proven that he is a postseason closer. That's not his fault; he hasn't been there enough. We need more and we need to see it.

Second, can he stay at this level? Wagner definitely faded towards the end of '05, blowing a couple of huge saves at the end of the season. Let's hope that rust disappears and Wagner is a go.

Add Wagner to last year's team and the Mets might very well have made the playoffs.

Well next year is now, and we need the little guy in the back of the pen closing it down.

So anyway, those are the keys to the season. I'll be back for the Opening day special.

Can't wait to see everyone at Shea.

VCD,

SM

The Inside Man

So I just caught the new Denzel Washington flick, The Inside Man, and I left the theater entertained. I found out that the 5th star of the movie was an old buddy of mine from college, Carlos Gomez, of 3rd floor butcher fame, and a neighbor of loyal Y2K friends Kenny from Camp and Goat.

I do recommend the movie, it is very entertaining. But movies become special when they provoke thought. I left that movie with something on my mind, something that I just couldn't kick from my head.

The Inside Man.

As always, the Mets are on my mind right now. We are 5 days from the season, the year after 2005, where we can buy one Carlos and get the second one free (an embarassing slogan may I add).

So, as always, young Sip remains quite the pessimist. After all, these Mets can't win, can they?

Today, I embrace the 5 inside men, members of the Mets lineup and front office that may not be who we think they are. They may be playing for us, but working for someone else.

5. Tommy Glavine

The easy target. This guy signed a 4-year/$45 million deal with the Mets back in the 2002-03 offseason and has been making double that for the 134-time NL East Champion Atlanta Braves. Since Tommy got here he has said all the right things while the Braves have kept winning. He even engaged in a public spat with Braves GM John Schuerholtz this spring when the contents of Schuerholtz's upcoming book, including a passage revealing that Glavine wept before signing with the Mets, became known.

So Glavine's talked the talk but he hasn't exactly walked the walk in his 3 years in Flushing, during which time Glavine has gone into the only kind of funk Willie Randolph doesn't like. In 3 whole seasons, Glavine has had exactly two good stretches, has never finished a season over .500, and is 33-41 overall in his Mets career.

Meanwhile, the Braves keep winning. Coincedence? Maybe. But let's see Tommy win a big game against the Braves in September before we can truly trust him.

4. Willie Randolph

You can see the chemistry in his eyes. He looks into the face of his enemy, and all he can talk about is whether or not the roll on his sandwich is fresh toasted.

Willie was a Yankee for a long time. Sure he threw AFOMG a ball back when he had a cup of coffee with the Mets back in the early 90's, but this guy is a Yankee.

I like Willie as a manager, but I notice him shying away in games against the Yankees. Could he still be playing ball for the Evil Empire? If sending in Braden Looper to wrap up the save in a pressure situation is any indication, I'd say the chances are strong to very strong.

3. Carlos Delgado

This guy had no interest in coming to the Mets a year ago. Delgado publicly served Mets special assistant Tony Bernazard, calling him the highest paid translator in the game, and basically reduced Omar Minaya's sales pitch to something along the lines of, "Look, I'm Latin, you're Latin... what more do you need to know?" On top of all that, his agent, David Sloane, publicly shat on the Mets for weeks after the negotiations ended with Delgado signing with the Marlins.

Yes, he was traded and has since said all the right things, but this guy clearly doesn't want to be here. Could it be that he asked the Marlins to trade him to NY, the media capital of the world, so he could throw the season and recieve the most possible coverage in protest of the War in Iraq? You gotta wonder.

2. Omar Minaya

I still am selling Wheel and Deal. He's a man with a fat pocketbook who knows how to use it. In spite of all the praise he gets for turning the Mets in to contenders, he has not made a single steal on any deal so far.

This guy came from the Expos/Nationals after he was denied the Mets GM job after Steve Phillips. Could Wheel and Deal be bitter that he didn't get the opportunity earlier? Could that be why he has mortgaged the depth of our rotation in return for basically nothing? I don't know.

1. The Real Momo

My oldest friend in the world may very well be "The Inside Man" that we are all looking for. After years of peer pressure, we convinced Mr. Momo, to that point a die-hard Yankee fan, that he had to become a Mets fan. Basically, if he wanted to be our friend, he had to like the Mets. Momo agreed, the year was 1996.

The Yankees went on to build their dynasty the second Momo left, while the Mets, were, well, the Mets. Sure, we made it to the World Series in 2000 but of course, kick in the junk central arose, when the Yankees went on to dominate us.

Momo was at the heart of it all. He was there to ruin the Mets' unforseen run in the fall of 2001, when his elated phone call about how the Mets were going to make the playoffs just as soon as Armando Benitez wrapped up this save officially jinxed the rest of the season. And he's been on board ever since.

For the last two years Momo has worked a job for the Atlanta Braves, working in stadium opps and with the press. This is a very solid job for a young man out of college.

Could it be that Mr. Momo, my brother by both friendship and stolen pen name, is the inside man for the Braves? That the Mets will not win until he is no longer?

So with this, I ask our readers to ponder something. Must I take my friend out? Is friendship more important than Mets baseball? Do I need to do this for the team?

Let me know. I'm here for you guys.

5 Days till opening Day

E-mail Sippymomo@gmail.com for Opening Day at Shea plans.

VCD,

SM

Pedro, Carlos and Omar: Last Year Was Then

(Please note. Sip has a post on Fantasy baseball leagues, the way they should be, below this post)

What’s up guys, A Friend of Mr. Glass’ here. I’ve been threatening to write a review of Adam Rubin’s book about the 2005 Mets for the past two weeks and change, and now, after much heel dragging, the time has finally arrived.

Rubin’s book was released amid fevered anticipation from Mets fans. At least one fan camped out outside the Barnes and Noble on 82nd and Broadway on that fateful evening in early-March, the day before the book was released.

Judging from his unshaven face, his tattered clothing, his shopping cart full of odd objects, and the unfortunate smell, this was one die-hard fan of the orange and blue who had been willing to camp out for weeks, maybe months or years at a time in order to get his copy.

So I’ve got nothing on that guy, but there I was on March 7, not the first in line, but there soon enough to pick up my coveted copy of Pedro, Carlos and Omar: The Story of a Season in the Big Apple and the Pursuit of Baseball’s Top Latino Stars.

Title rolls right off the tongue doesn’t it?

Rubin, a writer for the official newspaper of Yankees 2000, The New York Daily News, has produced an odd little book here, one that I ultimately found unsatisfying.

Part of that dissatisfaction may not be altogether fair. Compared with the two other Mets books I’ve read, George Vecsey’s classic Joy in Mudville and Jeff Pearlman’s The Bad Guys Won, Pedro, Carlos and Omar had two strikes against it before it ever stepped to the plate.

Strike 1 is the simple fact that whereas Vescey’s and Pearlman’s books celebrated championship clubs, Rubin’s did not. Assuming the author’s optimism for the immediate future of the Mets for a moment, reading Rubin’s book is a bit like reading a book about the 1985 Mets. It’s interesting, but at the end of the day you can’t help but feel a little disappointed, or that you want to ask who the hell cares?

The truth is that a lot of people do care, and lord knows I’m one of those people. I absorb virtually every piece of information about the Mets that I can. I’m a junkie for the little details, the little personality traits or quirks that define individuals and the team itself.

And that leads us to Strike 2, which is the real trouble with Rubin’s book – it goes into exactly the wrong kind of detail. Where Pearlman’s book charmed us with details that we didn’t already know (Rafael Santana putting his purportedly massive dick on Tim Teufel’s shoulder on an airplane for example), and where Vecsey’s book recalled conversations with the eminently quotable Casey Stengel, Rubin’s book recalls the story about Pedro running through the sprinklers that you’ve already heard about countless times. It’s not that it’s a bad memory, it might even bring a smile to your face, but one thing it’s not is it’s not anything new.

In fairness, there were some new little factoids I learned from Rubin’s book. For instance, all season long I wondered why the announcers referred to Dae Sung Koo as Mr. Koo. Fran Healy was especially fond of referring to the Korean junkballer by the Mr. Koo moniker.

Turns out there was actually an explanation. As Rubin reports on page 74, Koo simply preferred to be called Mr. Koo by his teammates, and Healy et al extended that preference to themselves. Now you know.

I also learned that Ramon Castro “conspired with the usually reserved Beltran to draw a face on a watermelon and leave it in Cliff Floyd’s locker, placing Floyd’s hat on top for maximum effect” (Rubin, 162).

In case you’re not howling with laughter, the reason is probably that that story simply isn’t that funny. And that’s kind of the theme of a lot of the behind the scenes stories Rubin relates.

It’s plain he wasn’t trying to write a sequel to The Bad Guys Won, but hey, baseball’s supposed to be fun, we know these guys aren’t saints, what’s the harm in relating a few stories about who put the moves on Anna Benson at the company party?

The disappointment of what’s not in the book is only compounded by a lot of the content that actually did make it in there, and therein lies my chief complaint with the book. Rubin spends an extraordinary amount of time giving play-by-play breakdowns of games that happened at various points last season.

I don’t care how big a fan you are, on some level these recaps are bound to be boring. The sensation is a lot like reading a months-old (or in some cases, a year-old) newspaper. You know everything that happened that day. You know everything that happened in the immediate aftermath. You know everything that happened for several days on end.

It’s just not really interesting to recall that D’Angelo Jimenez broke open the Mets’ third game of the year with a 2-run double, or that Tommy Glavine might have had a better result the night before if he hadn’t been squeezed by home plate umpire Chuck Meriwether.

More importantly, none of these are things that you didn’t know already if you paid attention the first time around. And as was mentioned earlier, that’s the real failing of Rubin’s book: so much of the book is devoted to recounting details that you already know.

And yet these are the details that flesh out Rubin’s narrative. Are these recaps excruciating? No. Are some of them enjoyable? Yes. But ultimately the question I asked myself most often was why? Why did Rubin decide that this book was a good idea? Why was this book allowed to be written?

The answer should be encouraging for Mets fans. There is an underlying sense throughout Pedro, Carlos and Omar that 2005 was a precursor to something greater. Rubin clearly believes it was. He closes his book with those memorable words from Beltran’s introductory press conference: “The New Mets had headed in a different direction – the right direction – the direction of winning” (Rubin, 210).

Perhaps Rubin and the good people at The Lyons Press thought that 2006 would be a watershed year in terms of interest in the Mets (they could very easily be right, incidentally). Maybe they thought a championship was forthcoming, making a book about the 2005 season, the table-setter season, decidedly relevant. But that’s a very large gamble to make, and if there is no pay-off, this book becomes more and more of a head-scratcher.

Taken for what it is, Pedro, Carlos and Omar isn’t a bad book. It's not poorly written, it’s just that it’s so limited. It’s basically a chronicle of the 2005 season. The ups and down of Beltran, the zaniness and electricity of Pedro, the development of Wright – it’s like, yeah man, I know.

If you’re one of those people who’s got a Mets-themed clock on your wall, you should pick up this book. If you’re anxious to relive the past season of Mets baseball, pick up this book. If you think you can’t understand 2006 without understanding 2005, pick up this book.

But if you’re hoping for a behind the scenes tell-all about the 2005 Mets with no punches pulled, leave this one on the shelf. It’s not that it’s altogether uninteresting, but if you know your Mets, you already know everything there is to know about Pedro, Carlos and Omar.

- A.F.O.M.G.

The Real Fantasy Baseball

So I'll be the first to say that no fantasy sport is better than fantasy football. With one head-to-head game a week and every game in front of you, complemented by plates of wings and fries and stale beer and Southern waitresses who by 7:00 p.m. look like Heidi Klum serving you, life is perfect.

But baseball remains my true love. And being an avid fantasy player I've always given baseball a crack.

But for years I had a problem. When I would take Mike Piazza with my first pick every year, I would get stressed hoping he would get the RBI instead of Fonzie hitting before him.

Or I would hate myself for having Derek Jeter as my SS.

Or worse, to have a player playing against the Mets for three straight days and feeling compelled to root for him. I just couldn't handle it.

I wanted the Mets to win, but I wanted my team to perform.

So last year I solved the problem. I wanted the Mets to have no effect for or against me, and I wanted no Yankees on my team.

That is when I introduced the AL-Only No Yankees Fantasy Baseball League.

With 12 of us in the league and 13 AL teams to choose from, the talent pool was ridiculously diluted. The draft was fucked from the beginning because one of the kids not there autodrafted every Yankee on yahoo.

So we ended up drafting in an AOL chatroom, a draft that took us roughly 7 hours to complete.

Still, the experience was the most educational fantasy experience of my life.

We weren't playing with All-Star teams. Instead, me and cousin Jason went nuts discussing Danny Haren for Erik Bedard after each had had 3 career starts.

Scott Podsednik became a god.



All of a sudden the Royals quad squad of Andy Sisco, Mike MacDougal, Jeremy Affeldt, and Ambriox Burgos found themselves actually impacting the starting lineups of our fantasy teams.

I knew every player in the AL and I loved it.

I watched every Mets game stress-free and had no reason at all to not completely root against the Yankees.

The league was perfect!

So this year we discussed. Should we do it again?

That would be too easy.

So my good friend, Jon Zimelis, former defensive stopper and the agent of Y2K, came up with an idea with a few strippers in hand at a friendly Gentleman's club in lAs Vegas.

"Sip, how bout we play with the teams from the bottom half of the league's payroll?"

I thought for half a second. I was buying the shit out of it.

It worked. There would be no Mets, no Yankees, I could stockpile my team with Indians and Brewers and I would learn more about baseball.

Of Yahoo's top 100 ranked players, only 34 came from the bottom 15 payrolls.

So Garret Atkins and Chris Capuano, here I come. Jhonny Peralta, I'll see you in the 2nd round. And of course T Haf, you will be the 1st player selected in this year's draft.

To all you fantasy baseball players out there, I really recommend some sort of a creative league or at least a league where the talent pool is shrunk.

Who cares who has a better season between Gary Sheffield and Vlad Guerrero? They're both really good.

But give me Doug Davis vs Joe Blanton... now at least we are thinking. We are learning our game, learning its players, and discovering that there is more to baseball than the top 3 free agents available in every offseason.

VCD,

SM

Yankees 2000: Bigger, Faster, More Explosions

Hey everyone,

Exciting times around here at Y2K as the start of a new season looms ever closer. The advent of a new season means more consistent baseball news and happenings, all of which increases the volume of things Sip and I have to write about.

With that in mind, we wanted to give a heads up to our readers that our publication schedule will remain consistent in some ways, but you can expect to see certain changes as well.

Going forward, readers can still look forward to a post by 2 p.m. Monday through Friday. On days like today, however, there is the main post by Sip and a secondary one by myself. Secondary posts will be more common throughout the season, and they can be written any time of day.

In addition, posts on the weekends will also be possible. If there's a big win, a crushing loss, or a major transaction, you can expect one of us to write about it the day it happens regardless of whether it's a weekday or a weekend. No promises on the frequency of weekend updates, but be advised that where it would have never happened before, it may happen going forward.

Anyway, we appreciate all your support throughout the offseason, and we look forward to another season of Mets baseball in 2006. The wait is almost over, boys and girls, chin up.

- SM and A.F.O.M.G.

Two Points for Optimism

What's up guys, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. This isn't a full-fledged post (Sip's provided that below), but there were a couple Mets-happenings this past weekend that warranted mentioning on the site.

The big news, obviously, was Pedro's masterful return to live competition yesterday. On a windy afternoon in Port St. Lucie, the Met ace worked efficiently through 3 innings against the Baltimore Orioles. The Orioles fielded what was, as far as I know, a close approximation of their Opening Day lineup, which is to say that the lineup Pedro was facing consisted of bonafide major leaguers.

As Paul Lo Duca would comment afterward, Pedro's performance was a huge mental boost. When the game began I was panicking that he would have a bad outing, that I would see my hopes for this season flash before my eyes and just as quickly fade away.

But no. With his hair puffing out from beneath his cap, Pedro threw 21 of his 35 pitches for strikes, fanning Miguel Tejada and Kevin Millar along the way. The only blemishes were a 4-pitch walk and a single on a pop up that landed about 5 feet from home plate when David Wright and Lo Duca collided.

Martinez didn't turn up the dial velocity-wise; he topped out at 88 mph on the radar gun all afternoon. But as we saw last year, velocity isn't necessarily the key for Martinez. His strikeout numbers will decline if his velocity is in the high-80s as opposed to mid-90s (we saw that happen in 2005), but he's talented enough to pitch effectively without all the Ks.

After his outing, Pedro was pleased with his performance, and said that if his toe felt like it did yesterday then beat reporters for the team should stop writing about it because it's fine.

As we all know, a healthy Martinez is critical to the Mets' success this year, and yesterday Pedro passed his first test with flying colors. Yesterday was just the first step, but you could hardly have asked for anything more.

So anyway, cheers to that.

Almost lost in the ballyhoo over Pedro's return to the mound was the strong relief work of Victor Zambrano. Tricky Vic tossed 6 innings of shutout ball in relief of Pedro, and while that probably does little for our general confidence in the guy, it sure is preferable to him getting shelled, wouldn't you agree?

So yesterday was a good day on the pitching front. And for you Brian Bannister boosters, it only got better at 6:45 p.m. when Marty Noble posted his Mets Notebook at mets.com. Citing unnamed members of the Mets' hierarchy, Noble reports that the most likely scenario is that Bannister begins the season as the fifth starter in the rotation while Aaron Heilman moves back to the bullpen.

Now I know I just wrote a piece promoting Heilman as the team's fifth starter, but I'm not going to argue this one too strenuously. As I said in that post, the debate between Bannister and Heilman was a good problem to have, and if it shakes out this way I'm not going to fight it.

You really can't argue with the logic espoused by one of Noble's sources that a bullpen consisting of Billy Wagner, Duaner Sanchez, Aaron Heilman, Chad Bradford, Jorge Julio, and a southpaw to be named later figures to "make us lights out from the seventh inning on."

And you can't really argue the importance of a strong bullpen given a rotation that figures to specialize more in 6-inning outings than 8-inning outings.

So Mr. Bannister, good luck. Mr. Heilman, I feel for you pal. Chances are this isn't your last chance to crack the rotation, so keep your chin up, accept the assignment to the 'pen with grace, and let's all get to work with winning some ballgames.

Sip thinks we're an 87-win team, the Glass thinks it's more like 93. I'm an optimistic kind of guy, what can I say?

Next year is now in 7 days. As you can read about in Sip's post, Yankees 2000 will be hosting a little function in the Shea parking lot, with 30-bangers and fresh toasted Caribbean lime Subway sandwiches.

Now if it would only get a little warmer so that we don't all freeze our asses off out there.

- A.F.O.M.G.

One Happy Sip

So I feel like shit. I have my first 0 for the Final 4 in my life, I have work in the morning and I am six pounds heavier after the 9th straight weekend having 10 visitors at my house in SF.

Still, I am one happy Sip.

Why you ask?

It's not because the Women's Final 4 is this week. In fact, I think I'd rather spend a long day in synagogue than watch that pollution. To my three female readers, a couple things.

First off, what's up? I love all my blogging groupies and would be happy to wine and dine you back at Blondies sometime.

Second, it's official. Women's sports are really, really bad and the fact that ESPN is showing women's basketball over repeats of "Thru the Fire," the greatest movie in the hisroy of the network, just sucks.

But it's not enough to break my spirits. So what gives, you ask? Why is he so happy?

Very simple. One week till Opening Day.

I was going to surprise my old friend AFOMG this weekend, but I figured we have to start planning now.

Young Sip is hopping the red eye to the Big Apple this Thursday night to return for Opening Day.

This will be my 11th straight Opening Day and I couldnt be more excited. It all started with me, The Black Balky Bartokamis, my brother and his crew showing up at Shea for that memorable rain storm in 1996. It was Rey Ordonez's first game, and he, not Derek Jeter, was the talk of the town.



He made the throw from his knees from about 100 feet past 3rd base that ignited the Mets' comeback victory. It was a memorable day, and unfortunately leaving Jawn at the subway station is something that I will forever regret.

So 1 week till the season. Next year is now and I couldn't be more fired up.

This is the first invite to all our loyal readers and friends. Monday, April 3. 10 a.m. in the Shea parking lot, the festivities begin. Expect the sounds of "L.A. Woman", Team Facelift, and possibly "Who Let the Dogs Out" to blare out of the Y2K-mobile.

I'm hoping all the big guns can make it out. Word on the street is that Happy Will can't get out of work. This is a problem that we will have to deal with. HW, make it happen. You're too good for that.

To the rest of you, get in touch with me this week and we'll make some plans. Even if you don't know me, get in touch, Sippymomo@gmail.com, or the comments board works as well.

We should all meet, we are all a family. AFOMG will make a poster for the car. AFOMG, get on that.

Could't be more excited.

And Pedro looks like he is pretty healthy.

We will see how it goes, but the marathon is beginning. Is this the year?

I doubt it.

But if for some strange reason it is, well fucking A. We deserve it.

VCD,

SM

Post: Bann the Man

As I've said before and will say again, anything Senior says, Young listens to.

My dad has always been a baseball guy, more for my sake I think than because of any deep-seated passion on his own behalf. But that doesn't mean the guy doesn't know baseball. And if there's one thing he has always pushed it's the Pen.

"Sip," he would say, "the Game is won in the 7th-9th innings."

I agree with the Senior. I really do.

Which is why I want to see Aaron Heilman in the pen, and young Brian Bannister in the rotation.



I feel this way for fairly straightforward reasons. Heilman makes our bullpen strong. He is a very solid middle reliever who along with Duaner Sanchez would give the Mets a formidable 1-2 punch leading up to Billy Wagner.

Without Heilman in the pen, the bullpen is weak. Plain and simple. And that is a problem.

We also have to look at Heilman vs. Bannister in the rotation. With Heilman, it's not like we are talking about the second coming of Pedro Martinez here.

The guy has had less than a handful of quality starts in his career. His 93 mph fastball out of the pen drops to 90 over 100 pitches and all of a sudden his changeup, his out pitch, isn't plus plus.

Heilman has basically proven as much as a starter as has Bannister. Both were high prospects and neither has proven a thing in the starter's capacity as a pro.

Sure, some will say that Heilman has had a great spring. Truth is that means little to me for a couple reasons. One, when Heilman has pitched in the spring he hasn't been pitching 7 innings.

His longest outing was a 5-innning start against L.A. on Wednesday. He's thrown 14 total innings this spring in 4 games started. Take 5 away from 14 and you get 9, divide that by 3, and Heilman averaged 3 innings per start in 75% of the games he's pitched. He's been pitching in brief "bullpen like" stints.

Two, as a general rule, Spring Training means dick. Remember Butch Huskey's 8 HR spring? About as good as it got for Old Butch. According to Billy Beane in the book Fantasyland, "Spring Training means shit!" Gotta agree with that sentiment, so Heilman's performance doesn't do much for me still.

The way I see it even if Heilman would be a better starter than Bannister, Heilman as a starter would not be as valuable as having Bannister start and Heilman in the pen.

I know many will disagree, but this is how I feel.

I don't know much, but I know that.

Stay up,

SM

Counterpost: A Risk Worth Taking

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. So it's decision time, is it? Heilman-Bannister. The day has finally arrived.

First things first, we can all agree that this is a good problem to have. Unlike the days when has-beens Scott Erickson, James Baldwin, David Cone and (the admittedly unforeseeably) never-was Tyler Yates battled it out for spots in the rotation, Aaron Heilman and Brian Bannister appear to be two honest-to-goodness prospects who could have roles on the Mets for years to come.

You can't fit two into one, however, and with the Mets' all but completely unaccountable decision that Victor Zambrano will be the team's fourth starter, you're looking at one of these guys getting the nod over the other for the fifth spot in the rotation they both covet.

So who's it gonna be? Without having read Sip's piece, I'll assume his argument goes something like this: as good as Heilman has been this spring as a starter, he's more valuable in a bullpen that desperately needs a third reliable arm.

Let's examine that bullpen, shall we? In spite of his injured finger, Billy Wagner is Billy Wagner. He's one of the best closers in the game until proven otherwise, and we're all confident in his ability to close it out in the ninth. Based on his solid (if not awe-inspiring) track record, his WBC performance, and his awesome goggles, confidence is also high in Duaner Sanchez.

But one guy no one is confident in is Jorge Julio. Depending on who you talk to, this guy is either a latter day Armando Benitez or the second coming of Mel Rojas. In spite of the former's regular season success, this is not confidence-inspiring company for any Mets fan.

Combine the uncertainty over Julio with the Mets' lack of a proven left-handed specialist and the age and somewhat questionable talents of our starting pitchers, and many a fan is left wondering whether we've got the horses to get us through innings 7, 8, and 9 with a bullpen consisting of Wagner, Sanchez, Armando Rojas Julio, and a bunch of other misfits.

With all that in mind, these fans conclude that it makes more sense to have Heilman in the bullpen. As has been written on this site and others many times before, Heilman was brilliant out of the pen last year, particularly in the second half of the season.

So why mess with a good thing? Why not plug Bannister into the fifth starter spot and leave Heilman in the role in which he excelled?

In all fairness to Bannister, who certainly deserves the good long look he's received this spring based on his performance last year and the numbers he's put up in Spring Training thus far, I'm not sold on him starting the year in the rotation as the best option.

Yes, he's done extremely well in Spring Training, but it goes without saying that the competition in Spring Training is not the same as the regular season, especially this year when many lineups were without their biggest hitters courtesy of the World Baseball Classic.

The reason I support Heilman in the rotation is that I think he's got more upside than Bannister and becuase I have more confidence in the bullpen than other people do. I hate to ape another blogger, but Mike Oliver made a great point over at MetsGeek today: "As much as I like Bannister," Oliver wrote, "I do not envision him outperforming Heilman in the rotation. The Mets need a starter at this point more than a reliever."

Ask yourself this question: do I expect Brian Bannister to be better over 30 starts than Aaron Heilman? If the answer is no, why not see if Heilman can turn his dominating bullpen stuff into dominating starter stuff? Nobody ever saw a fantastic reliever and said, Man, if I could choose between having that stuff for 1 inning a game or 7 innings a game, I'd choose 1 inning game.

And yet this is the decision the Bannister boosters are making with Heilman. They probably point to his track record as a starter and say he's never had success. First off, that's not entirely true. He's shown flashes. His 1-hitter against Florida last year comes to mind. Second, anybody who's watched Heilman over the years saw that he was a better, more confident pitcher in 2005 than he ever was before (at least in his time as a Met).

So I say, give the guy who limited opposing batters to a .223 average and a Mr. Glass-like .299 on-base percentage a chane to do his thing as a starter.

You don't want to make it open-ended, find. Give him a 6-start test run. If he falters, you've given Bannister a chance to further prove himself at Triple A, and Heilman won't feel like he's getting gypped out of a spot he deserved.

Besides, our bullpen really isn't as shaky as people seem to believe. Sanchez and Wagner get us through 8 and 9 pretty comfortably. If a big lefty comes in with a couple runners on and Sanchez on the mound, just hand Wagner the ball and let him record a 4- or 5-out save if necessary.

Besides those two, you've got a pretty capable corps between Julio, Chad Bradford, and potentially Royce Ring to get you through the 7th. Is it the best bullpen in the league? No. Does its success hinge on Heilman? No. It's better with Heilman, but the rotation is better with Heilman if he can translate his bullpen success into starting success, and the rotation is more important.

Heilman's earned the chance to take the position. If he's anywhere near as good as he was in the pen last year you're looking at at least a No. 3 starter, and possible a No. 2. If he can't hold it up, the worst thing that happens is you move him to the bullpen and call up Bannister.

It may not be pretty in April and May if Heilman doesn't deliver on his promise, but at the end of the day it's a risk worth taking.

- A.F.O.M.G.

I Am So Back

(Note: Double the content here at Y2K. Sip's written about Pedro missing Opening Day below, while I've done a bit of a roundup of Mets news from the past week. Enjoy.)

What's up guys, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. If this post seems a little unfocused, the reason is that it began its life as a test run. See, the company I work for has the means and the wherewithal to block various websites that are not germaine to the work we do here.

It sounds worse than it is. I can't check my gmail account from work, but beyond that I had never come across a blocked site at work among the 20 or so that I check regularly. Never, that is, until late last week, when I attempted to post a column from work only to discover that blogger.com, the engine that powers this website you're reading right now, had been blocked.

The dream was over. Or so it seemed.

Bored, I decided to check out blogger to see if maybe it was just a one time thing. As you can see, indeed it was.

Now this doesn't really impact you, the readers, very much at all. I don't normally write from work, I save that for when I get home. But it does mean something to me. It means I won't have to wake up 10 minutes earlier in the mornings to edit. So that's nice.

But anyway, now that I'm back I might as well post some musings on the Mets don't you think? Here's what's going on in Metsville that hasn't been widely discussed on the site.

1. Dust settling on position battles.

A lot of readers probably don't realize this, but Yankees 2000 is huge in Japan. For whatever reason, we get a goodly amount of hits a day in the Land of the Rising Sun. It might have something to do with Bobby Valentine. Or Kaz Ishii. Or possibly Tsuyoshi Shinjo.

Speaking of which, remember Shinjo's first home run? Against the Braves on Opening Day when he threw the bat 10, maybe 15 feet in the air in celebration? Or how about that little hop he did before catching a fly ball? Or shinjyo5.net, easily the greatest web site of all time? Or those wristbands?

My god, the wristbands! RIP, Tsuyoshi.

Anyway, one guy who probably doesn't contribute to our Japanese audience is our beleaguered second baseman, Kaz Matsui. Originally the poster child for the "younger, faster, more athletic" Mets and a key component of the "defense up the middle" mantra espoused during the Jim Duquette era, Kaz has been an out and out flop. I was down on a certain New York real estate magnate for saying it when I still had hope for the guy, but truer words were never spoken than when The Donald declared KazMat the biggest bust in New York. (In fairness, Carlos Beltran is the current owner of that title.)

But after the former Japanese iron man suffered what seems like his 10th or 11th injury in a Mets uniform, it appears that the Kaz Matsui era may be over. OK, that's probably premature. But what is certain is that come Opening Day, Kaz won't be the starting second baseman. That will either be Jeff Keppinger or, more likely, Anderson Hernandez.

A lot of Mets fans think Keppinger gets a bad rap. He puts up consistently solid numbers in the minor leagues and yet is never considered a top prospect. Kepp hit .337 last year at Triple A before in 255 at-bats before a spiking injury to his leg shortened his season.

All signs point to this guy being either the next Ty Wigginton or the next Melvin Mora. That is, he's somebody that fanboys are going to love irrationally before flaming out before the age of 30 or he's going to be traded to someone else and become an All Star. As far as I can tell, those are the only two options. That is, he will never star for the Mets.

Instead, Anderson Hernandez is going to be given every opportunity to be the solution to the Kaz Matsui debacle. After an exceptional 2005 (excluding his 1-for-18 performance in September for the big club, of course), Hernandez went on to hit .307 in Winter Ball with a .386 OBP. His defense is said to be exceptional in spite of the fact that he's a natural shortstop.

So AHern, good luck, we're counting on you. If you fail, Keppinger may get a shot, but more likely he'll be traded along with Victor Diaz and possibly Brian Bannister for the Red Sox' Tony Grafanino. Grafanino will likely be an altogether serviceable second baseman for 2006, maybe 2007. Keppinger will go on to earn a batting title with Boston, father quintuplets, and become a smiling reminder of everything that is wrong with our front office.

Oh, and speaking Diaz, no chance he starts Opening Day. Expect the X Man, Xaveir Nady, who has exceeded expectations with his excellent spring (alright, I'm spent) to man RF for the Boys come April 3.

2. Tommy the Spy to start Opening Day.

Sippy Momo has written a post about this issue today (see below), but let me just say that I'm not as concerned as he is about all this. That Petey's not starting the opener kind of sucks, granted, but he's been throwing simulated games and bullpen sessions consistently the past two weeks, he's gearing up for his first actual game this week, and I'm confident that he'll be ready to pitch shortly after Opening Day.

Remember, Pedro only threw 11 Grapefruit innings in 2005 and he went on to meet all of our expectations. If his toe is comfortable, I expect Pedro to be fine. That all said, it's gonna be a wait and see start-to-start proposition, no two ways about that.

3. SNY still struggling technically, Lewis picking his game up.

As mentioned in my recap of SportsNet New York's (SNY) debut, the network experienced technical difficulties throughout its maiden evening. A week later, the situation has improved but judging from last night's 2-1 win over the Dodgers, some kinks still exist. Here's hoping they get them sorted out by Opening Day.

Meanwhile, Siafa Lewis is sounding more and more comfortable in his role as Matt Loughlin impersonator, which is good to see. Lewis interviews players throughout the games somewhat regularly, so he's had plenty of opportunities to shore up his skills, and his interviews have improved over the course of the past week. I'm wondering what will come of these interviews during the season. Maybe one a game? Maybe none? We shall see.

4. Rickey-Time in camp to school Mr. Glass.

As readers are probably well aware, the Mets have invited Rickey Henderson to camp as a special instructor. Rickey's technically available to everybody, but his prize pupil is clearly Jose Reyes.

Rickey, who purportedly thought Jose's name was Ray, is charged with helping Reyes improve his on-base percentage and improve his base-stealing instincts.

Naturally, Reyes got thrown out in his first stolen base attempt of the Rickey Henderson tutelage era. Keep at it, Rickey!

5. The Yankees suck.

Big day of Yankee bashing in area newspapers today as the steroid spotlight landed once more on Jason Giambi and, in a new but not altogether surprising twist, on Gary Sheffield. According to the Post, Giambi took steroids to appease his overbearing father, who I think I recall wept at Giambi's introductory press conference in 2001.

Sheffield meanwhile just seems to have used them because everyone else did. Fair enough. He also denied the allegation yesterday in uncharacteristically curt fashion.

The steroid use of both players is detailed in the book "Game of Shadows", excerpts of which were released earler this month, much to the discredit of Barry Bonds.

Meanwhile, according to Harvey Araton in the Times, Johnathon Damon is a massive herb, and actually argues that he's less a sellout than he is a poseur. Here's the link: http://select.nytimes.com/2006/03/23/sports/baseball/23araton.html. I'm open to either argument I suppose, but I'm still leaning toward Damon the Sellout. But that's just me.

Anyway, that's all for now. Look for a post-counterpost tomorrow on the merits of Aaron Heilman and Brian Bannister as the Mets' fifth starter. As for my book review, it's coming.

- A.F.O.M.G.

The One We Can't Lose

The team stood around its diminutive coach. They were embarking on the biggest game of the biggest season of their lives. While the team had a ton of names, superstars even, there was one that had all the charisma. He was the one that the fans loved, the one who stole our hearts and was a particular hit with the women.

He was the big ticket, the showstopper, the guy that got you to tune in everyday, even though the product never really ever changed. You knew what you were getting with this guy, and yet you were always excited.

His name...

Zack Morris.

Morris carried the 1993 Bayside Boys Varsity basketball team on his shoulders. While many scouts never even saw him shoot a jump shot, Chad Ford, in his early days of scouting had this to say about Morris.

"Upside, Freak, Monster. I saw this kid playing in his back yard and I can tell you he is going to be a top ten player of all time. And by the way, you will never find sweeter frosted tips than this guy's."



Little did Chad know that Darko would come along, but that wasn't his fault.

Anyway, going into the big game against Valley, Bayside needed Morris to step up. They needed his heart, soul and body.

He never saw the floor.

Thanks to Bozo Belding, Zack suffered a freak leg injury that kept him out of the game while simultaneously bringing him into the hearts of many a Bayside-area nurse, who were all ridiculously attractive.

Still, Bayside didn't have a chance and of course, they lost the game.

Why Morris, you ask?

First off, Saved by the Bell sometimes gets lost in the mix on this site and I felt it was owed its neccesary recognition, a la Nick the Voice.

But second, we at Shea have our own Zack Morris. And like Zack before the basketball game, our Zack has us very nervous.

It was announced yesterday that Pedro Martinez, the glue of this team, the one player without whom we have no chance at the playoffs, will not be ready for his Opening Day start. Yesterday's announcement confirms that Petey's injured toe will keep him out a couple more days than originally hoped, with the thinking being that he'll hopefully start sometime later in the first week of the season.

Every fear that I had when we signed the aging Martinez has hit me at the very start of year two. What scares me most is how little is discussed of Pedro. Clearly any bad news would be terrible pr for the Mets, devastating ticket sales, fan morale and even player morale.

But what is worse is the lack of good news. We haven't heard many positives about Pedro this spring which scares me. Without him the Mets are a .500 team. With him, they could win 90-95 if everything else gels.



But old Petey is the glue. Could you imagine a Bayside without Zack Morris? At least they would have Slater. Look, I love Tommy the Spy as much as the next guy, but he's no Slater and we all know it.

Give me a Mets pitching staff without Pedro and I give you the cast of Strictly Ballroom, Yankee2000's No. 1 worst movie of all time. The staff would be dreadful. Already every pitcher on the staff is pitching a rotation spot up.

Glavine is no more than a 3rd starter now. Trachsel, if healthy is a 4, Heilman is a 5 and Zambrano is a 9.

Pedro is our guy. This article is meant to make you nervous. There is a little too much optimism floating around this site, we call it "The Happy Will Influence."

Let's all knock on some serious wood for this one.

Or better yet, let's knock on something else. I ask that we all take a hammer to one of our toes today. Clearly this will hurt, but hopefully this will bring Pedro the feeling of unity and support that he needs in order to receive a quick and full recovery.

VCD,

SM

Soriano... Maybe if it Were Rafael

The big topic of convo today amongst my nearest and dearest fans of the orange and blue has been the speculation that the Mets might go after Alfonso Soriano, who receently refused to play left field for the Washington Nationals.

Kenny from Camp threw out some hypotheticals to me, notable Soriano for Kaz Matsui and Victor Diaz.

On paper it seems like a great trade. It makes sense both for the present and for the future. This isn't the Knicks getting the best player in the deal but screwing up their future.

Soriano is on a 1 yr deal, for 10 million dollars. The guy's in his walk year and wants to enter free agency as a big hitting second basemen, which has been a decidedly scarce resource in Major League Baseball since Bret Boone got off the juice.

Indeed, as a 2b Soriano's numbers are down right sick, at least offensively. How many 2b hit you 30-35 hr and drive in 100 runs while stealing 20-30 bases? Not too many.

But as an outfielder he has flaws. There are enough 30 HR-100 RBI guys in corner outfield spots to render his numbers, if not pedestrian, then nothing altogether extraordinary. Soriano and his representation must know that, and they know that come contract time he may not be worth 12 mil per season as a leftfielder.

So Soriano to the Mets...My thoughts. In all honesty, I don't want to see it happen.



Before the deal for Delgado and Nady, maybe, but not anymore.

The Mets are getting really close to that perfect fantasy lineup. Everyone on the team can go for 30-100 and all of a sudden we are creaming ourselves.

But that is not what wins baseball. How many World Series have the Yankees won since they put together their murderers row? The answer is 0 (as per the Curse, naturally).

Contrary to popular belief, a baseball team needs chemistry. Sure, it's not like basketball where a set play is affected by all 5 guys on the court. Still, there is more to baseball than just the individual at the plate and the pitcher on the mound.

Little things make a baseball team win. Joe Torre has spent the last 5 years trying to manage the egos of his players, and while he seems to have done an admirable enough job of that, those egos still limit his ability to manage a game. Indeed, he can't well signal for a sac bunt in a certain situation when his 6 hitter, who happens to be a former MVP, is at bat.

He can't call for a hit and run because his 9 hitter, Robinson Cano, can hit the ball out of the park, but doesn't make enough contact.

Bringing in Soriano would no doubt bring the Mets another thunderous bat. Their lineup top to bottom would be devastating.

But the lineup would be a team of individuals. Willie Randolph couldn't manage this team, his players would just have to perform. Soriano is exactly that type of player: the guy can sock dingers and thus drive in runners, but when he's not doing that his .309 batting average suggests he's probably sitting on the pine.

This is not a winning formula for baseball and it never will be. Couple all that with Soriano's shoddy defense at a defensive priority position for the Mets and Soriano seems like less and less of a good idea. (That is, given Delgado's limited range, a slick fielding second baseman would add run-differential value even if he were the team's 8 hitter. No matter how athletic he looks, Soriano is a shitty fielder.)

So Soriano? Sure! If it were the Mariners hard throwing RHP (a few arm surgeries ago) Rafael Soriano, then we'd be talking.



Because right now this bullpen is a huge problem.

Jorge Julio looks about as bad as he could and all of a sudden not 1 (Cameron) but 2 of Wheel and Deal's offseason maneuvers are looking very bad. Although in fairness Nady has been killing the ball in Spring Training so maybe there's hope for that deal yet.

This is the main reason why I'd like to see Heilman in the Pen. More on that though Thursday and Friday.

12 days till opening day!!!

VCD,

SM

The Classic was Classic, but not as Classic as Mr. Classic

Let me first drop kudo's on Young Sip for the title of this blog. Nice work Young.

Then I want to give a big shout to Upper West Side legend and my boyhood hero BOAFOMG for the longest response in the history of Yankees2000.

I promise you I will get into the Bannister vs. Heilman debate later this week in a post-counterpost with AFOMG, as I know we have differing opinions.

As for Big Al in the first inning, all I can say is Game 6 1999 NLCS... Dead on BOAFOMG.

As for your third paragraph. There must have been 14 words/ideas that I totally didn't understand. That said, I would love to be GM of the 2006 AL Champion Indians one day, but Mark Shapiro is a genius and should be there for some time.

So that was yesterday. Today we talk about how "The Classic was classic, but not as Classic as Mr. Classic."

Last night marked the end of the WBC. In the end, it didn't really do much for me, but it wasn't all bad. In fairness, one thing I loved seeing was the pride of the other countries (that is, nont-US teams) in the Classic.

It was a beautiful thing as a sports fan to watch the national pride of all the Latin countries so unambiguously displayed. In the place in the world where baseball means the most, it showed and it was really nice.

Americans, like myself, love their teams. I love the Mets.

These Latin countries love their players and their country. It is obvious during the season when fans come out to watch their favorite players play and it was completely obvious during the WBC when Americans were busy watching the NIT as the rest of the world shutdown for 17 days of the WBC.

The Classic also ended in as classy a celebration as I've seen. I've never been a big fan of Japan. Blame that on WWII, Pokemon, or whatever it is, but my feelings definitely changed watching their win.

They won with class. Not with the bullshit class of the Yankees.

They shook each other's hands, hugged their manager, and were gracious in victory. Maybe I'm getting older or more mature, but I really thought it was nice to see.

Watching Ichiro pose for pictures with two Cuban players was just, well nice.

So as I said, the class was classic.

But nothing can top Mr. Classic.

So AFOMG shot me an e-mail yesterday that read " alk about stories that you never thought you'd see."

Well this week it happened. As reported in the official newpaper of Y2K, The NY Post (Editor's Note: Questionable, Sip, questionable), our old friend and favorite hater of all races and sexual preferences has apparently turned over a new leaf.

John Rocker, AKA AFOMG's Clone, was spotted this weekend at some NYC hotspots, promoting Spike TV's worst show ever, Pros vs Joes, with a lovely co-ed at his side.



Nothing unusual there I suppose, only the co-ed was not who you would expect...

The co-ed was African-American.

Almost impossible to believe, right? First he pitches for a team in New York and now he's dating a black woman, this from the guy who was quoted calling a black teammate a "fat monkey" and that "The biggest thing I don't like about New York are the foreigners. I'm not a very big fan of foreigners. You can walk an entire block in Times Square and not hear anybody speaking English. Asians and Koreans and Vietnamese and Indians and Russians and Spanish people and everything up there. How the hell did they get in this country?"

So forgive Young Sip if he was caught a little off guard by yesterday's headline in Page 6:

"Rocker Pitches to Black Babe."

Johnny Rocker. You sure are a moron.

Don't get me wrong, I think it is great that you are giving women of other races a chance. No reason why you shouldn't. But imagine this.

Imagine if you acted like this 6 years ago. You wouldn't have been hated and put under the national microscope for all the wrong reasons, and it's altogether possible that you wouldn't have gone crazy, flamed out, and fallen out of baseball during what should have been your prime. Not to mention that you probably would have gotten far better tail as a premier closer in bsaeball than you would as opposed to a recovering "diehard racist" and washup.

So Johnny, glad to see you've changed your ways, but you are a real idiot. Some things never change I guess.

VCD,

SM

The End of an Era... Big Al RIP

I've never been very political. While some of my friends, AFOMG included, were off reading up on world news, I often stuck to one of the simpler things in life: sports.

As a result, I don't have the strongest of political views. Ask me who I would vote for in the next presidential election and I'll tell you, very simply, anyone but Hillary Clinton.

Her candidacy is one of the only political topics I'll jump into. I feel strongly that any person who would allow herself to get completely played by her husband in front of the entire world only to stick by him just to further her career belongs in US Weekly, not the White House.

So I'm sorry to go off on a political tangent here, but politics may have met their match today, and Yankees2000 is proud to publicly endorse its favorite politician.

On Sunday, after a long 19 year career, Al Leiter announced that he was retiring from the game. And entering a new game.

Big Al. Man, did I love that guy.



For 7 seasons from 1998-2004 Al toed the rubber at Shea. He was outspoken and fidgety but most importantly, he was just a damn good guy.

He brought so much to the team that we often lose track of how great Al was. In his 7 years at Shea, Al was 95-65 with an ERA well below four.

Despite a subpar 99, Al was a huge part of the great runs of the Mets teams of 1999-2000. While Mike Hampton may have been the ace in 2000, Al was the heart of the pitching staff.

To hear him grunt with every 89 mph cutter almost became comical.

To watch him bang his glove when he made a mistake made you smile.

But most importantly, at the end of each day, Al would give you a quality start. When he was on the mound we felt like we had a chance to win, which as a Mets fan, is not that common a feeling.

So Al is no longer with us. He is giving up baseball to take on the worlds of broadcasting and maybe even politics. He's always been a big Republican advocate in NYC and truth is, I can deal with that.

If Al ever ran for office, I wouldn't care if his plans were to eliminate all bloggers, [Editor's note: and all slightly-overpaid small forwards gutting it out in obscurity in Oakland]. Whatever Big Al wanted I'd be on board.

And more so, if you put together a Leiter/Ventura campaign to take the White House in 2012, I would give up everything I was doing to make it happen.

So Al, farewell. You'll definitely be missed but certainly not be underappreciated.

Speaking of underappreciated, Chip and JJ, much love. [Editor's Note: Big Maciej has always felt a great amount of respect for Sippy Momo Sr., for being an Upper West Side Dad par excellence, what with his desire to spend weekends reading in Connecticut and attending basketball games in unsavory gyms in Harlem and even join his sons' friends at Blondies].

VCD,

SM

The Birth Pangs of a Network, the Death Rattle of a National Team

What's up guys, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. You know, it wasn't too long ago when finding material for a post was a chore. Now here we are 2 weeks before the season even starts (god how great is it to be able to say that it's only 2 weeks?) and I'm loaded with material.

Indeed, either of the subjects below might have earned their own individual posts, but given that SportsNet New York (SNY) debuted yesterday and Team USA got bounced from the World Baseball Classic last night, I figured enough shit had gone down in the past 24 hours that couldn't wait until Monday.

In case that doesn't quite qualify me as being "loaded with material," consider also that I've been meaning to write a review of Adam Rubin's new book, Pedro, Carlos and Omar: The Story of a Season in the Big Apple and the Pursuit of Baseball's Top Latino Stars for the past several days. That one's gonna have to wait until Monday though, cause you know me, I can be kind of long-winded.

SportsNet New York debuts at 5 p.m. EST.

Truth be told, I wasn't able to watch every minute of the action last night. I had to get drinks with my coworkers and that kept me out of the house until 8. Fortunately, I had planned it all out in advance and when I got done with dinner I watched as much SNY content as I could.

As for the results, they were kind of a mixed bag. There were numerous technical difficulties; while I trust the Mets brass to right the ship by opening day, I can't say they weren't annoying in the meantime.

In terms of gripes, I found myself a bit disappointed in the job done by field reporter Siafa Lewis. Lewis' gig is basically the SNY of Matt Loughlin's on MSG/FSNY. It's entirely possible that he was nervous on the network's first broadcast, and there's no reason to think he won't grow into the job a bit more, but I found his interviews a little flat.

Part of the problem may be that I was a big Loughlin fan, and it's always difficult to fill the shoes left by an industry giant such as him. It's a tough road to hoe, but here's to hoping he gets better in time.

My last gripe concerns the music used on SNY -- the theme is a little much if you ask me. It almost sounds like it's got something to prove. I found myself wanting to ask it to chill the fuck out, but that never happened (that is, I asked, but it didn't respond). Oh well. It only gets played so often so I can live with it.

That all said, the rest of the night was pretty much one big positive. I love the Daily News Live concept. Basically they have a roundtable discussion with several reporters or columnists from the Daily News, the only true New York daily in the game, to talk New York sports. Yesterday that meant a lot of college basketball talk, which was salt for a guy like me.

But in my mind's eye I caught a glimpse of over-analysis of every random Mets game come those warm summer days, and I smiled. Something to look forward to, indeed.

SportsNite seems like the perfect alternative to SportsCenter. It's New York-centric, it doesn't employ Stuart Scott, Steven A. Smith or any of the other blowhards that ESPN does, except for Steve Berthiaume, but I like Steve Berthiaume. I like his name. Berthiaume. Fun to say.

Before moving on, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention my three highlights from the night. One came from the Mets Pregame show, the other two from the Mets-Braves game that was the first game broadcast on the upstart network.

3. Tell us how you really feel, Keith.

The No. 3 moment came in the pregame show. Gary Cohen and Keith Hernandez were discussing the glut of Mets players who would be returning to Spring Training now that Venezuela and Puerto Rico had been eliminated.

In the course of this discussion, Cohen gave a set-up question to Hernandez about how ready WBC players would be, to which Mex responded something along the lines of the following: "Now that they're done with the BS, they should be able to use the rest of Spring Training to get ready for the season without any significant setbacks in terms of readiness."

That's not a direct quote, but the pivotal part, in which Hernandez referred to the WBC as "the BS" is absolutely true. As soon as the words left his lips, Cohen, who had been facing Hernandez, whipped his head around and stared dead into the camera with his eyes stretched about as wide as possible and his eyebrows lifted as far up as they could go.

Maybe it was an honest mistake, maybe he'd blown a few too many lines of coke, maybe he just doesn't like the Classic. Who's to say? It was a great moment in TV journalism one way or another.

2. Mets score twice in the bottom of the ninth, beat Braves 6-5.

Sure it's meaningless, but it's a hell of a lot better to be able to say that the Mets beat the Braves in the first game broadcast on SNY than the reverse. Someday we might care about these things.

1. Gary Cohen's home run call.

I've written about this once before, but Gary Cohen's homerun call is just perfect. That almost gutteral sounding "And it's outta here!" as if the words came from the deepest depths of his stomach. If there's a better homerun call in the business, I haven't heard it yet. It's not flashy or gimmicky, it's just honest, emotional, and to the point.

So needless to say, when Cliff Floyd crushed that pitch to deep center field for a 2-run homer, I was filled with a sense of deep satisfaction. Mets baseball, if only in exhibition form, is back.

Thanks for playing, Team USA.

Well that was embarrassing, eh? A heavy favorite to at least make the championship game, Team USA was shown its exit from the inaugural World Baseball Classic after suffering a 2-1 loss at the hands of Team Mexico. In what might have been his last start ever, Roger Clemens took the loss after surrendering 2 earned runs through 4.2 innings of work.

As much as I'd love to pin the blame for this one on the Rocket, truth is it belongs squarely on the hitters' shoulders. This was a feast or famine kind of team, and in yesterday's game they just couldn't get it done.

When Team USA threatened in the bottom of the ninth putting runners on first and second with 1 out, the game was genuinely exciting. The competing chants of "U-S-A! U-S-A!" and "Mex-i-co! Mex-i-co!" leant the game the playoff atmosphere the tournament needs if it's going to succeed.

No level of excitement could save Team USA, however, which was bounced from the tournament when Vernon Wells hit into a game-ending double play.

As Mets fans have grown awfully fond of saying, there's always next year. Or maybe "there's always next time" is more fitting for Team USA, which won't have another chance at WBC glory until 2009.

There's reason to believe that next time around the American team will have a more complete roster of stars, and won't have to turn to say, Dan Wheeler, for middle relief. For god's sake the guy was a Met castoff two years ago, I don't care how well he did for Houston last year, there's gotta be a better option out there.

Anyway, we all know Sip doesn't like the WBC because of the timing and all that jazz, but put the Glass squarely in its corner. I think the timinig is fine (maybe start it a week earlier next time?). Pitch counts and ties have got to go, or at least the latter does. If the former were simply amended slightly I'd be happy.

All in all, it's a fine little tournament, and I'm looking forward to seeing how it concludes. The smart money's gotta be on the Dominican Republic, with Korea second in line. Look for the DR to take this one down, and look for a little village called Los Conucos to party all night.

Anyway, that's all for the day. I'll get around to writing that book review sometime next week. Until then, have a good weekend.

- A.F.O.M.G.

The Real Problem with the WBC

(Note: Somebody lit a fire under Young Sip's ass today, and what that means for you is he's written two articles. The first concerns the World Baseball Classic, the second the ongoing Larry Brown-Stephon Marbury saga. Enjoy.)

So I gotta admit it. Seeing Korea beat the Japanese, giving the US a chance to advance meant something to me. I followed the results along ESPN's bottom line; I was a fan. So when Korea won I was kind of happy. I'm pulling for the US despite their intense Yankeeness.

But still the WBC is pissing me off. Why?

Call me crazy or call me a fanatic, but Spring Training used to mean something to me, and to a lot of other baseball fans as well.

Me and my buddies used to get really fired up for Mets Spring Training baseball. I can remember back two years during my senior year of college. It was the first year of the Reyes-Matsui experiment at the top of the lineup. Goat, Kenny From Camp and I were all very excited.

Last year, I took a trip down to Port St Lucie, my first time down in lo these many years, to watch my favorite team, the Mets, and my second favorite team, the Indians, square off in a heated Spring Training showdown.

Just like this year, I projected those as my two World Series teams.

Beltran went ding dong on a 3-0 count and even Ramon Castro, the clubhouse clown and a dark horse for my top 5 favorite Mets, went yard.



The day was perfect and all the excitement that I had built up for the day was met.

But this year things have changed, and they have changed for one reason: The WBC.

All of a sudden Spring Training games are less than they used to be, when you would potentially catch 3-4 regulars a day. Now, the Mets, minus 6 regulars, look like the Old Mets aka, not a roster full of stars.

Spring Training is completely out of the mix. Clubhouse reports on SportsCenter have been replaced by WBC coverage. And so it is that there are times when I forget that the Jewish Christmas is just 3 weeks away.

So yes, I've been tuning into the WBC a bit of late, both for Team USA and my adopted home team, Republica Dominicana, but I remain dissatisfied.

March is the month for us to watch college basketball and get excited for the Major League season. This WBC is just interrupting.

Truth is, I'm enjoying it. The first round I thought was boring, but now that we are with the best teams, it is TV worthy (note: I consider reruns of Married With Children on FX Must See TV, so maybe other people wouldn't call me a proper arbiter of quality).

However, as most baseball fans seem to agree, this is an event that is meant to take place in November.

People will still be oozing baseball as opposed to feeling the need to get ready for it. After all, it is a long season and it takes preparation and discipline to be able to endure it.

So WBC in March, RIP. I'd much rather be watching Spring Training and Point Break on Encore.

Imagine, however, a November with basketball just starting, football on Sundays and the WBC featuring the best players in the world, with pitchers pitching on full pitch counts and every player in the game excited to participate.

All of a sudden, the Classic is a classic. That I'm buying.

VCD,

SM

I Love This Game

Throwing out a 2 banger today. Considering all the shit that I've said about the Knicks in the last year at least I know one thing: they are really entertaining.

This LB-Starbury feud has reached all time heights. By this point it basically has amounted to Larry Brown calling Stephon Marbury a loser while Marbury says he won't listen to his coach.

If it weren't for the most enjoyable losing team in sports, the Warriors, in my backyard, I'd be all over the Knicks.

All I can think about when I think about the Knicks is the second greatest sports movie of all time.

It was about a team with a ton of super talents that just couldn't mesh. Everyone thought that they were better than the next.

Despite some huge offseason spending and tremendous expectations from the team's wild fans, the club underperformed.

Even the team's colorful announcer couldn't take it.

What is this mystery team, and in what mystery film were they immortalized?

I'll give you a hint. This team was able to overcome their problems after they traded their star player/clubhouse downer for an underappreciated Japanese outfielder.

The movie was Major League II and the deal was Jack Parkman for Hiroshi "Kamakazi" Tanaka.

The move for Tanaka changed the mood in the Indians clubhouse. All of a sudden, egos were tossed aside, Willie Mays Hayes was running, and Pedro Cerrano was ditching his peaceful meditation.



So if it worked in ML II it has to work in real life.

Therefore, it is my expert opinion that the Knicks should trade Starbury (Jack Parkman, though far less cool) for Ha Seung Jin, the 7'3, 300 lb sharpshooter journeyman who never really got the love in the NBA.

Imagine Ha Seung questioning Stevey Franchise's "Marbles." If that wouldn't wake up the Franchise I don't know what would.

In all honesty though, if Isiah doesnt get fired in the next 2 months I don't know what I'm gonna do. I'd like to be able to do something to make it happen, but I can't say I'm brimming with optimism given that Isiah still has a job when the team is 18-45 and has zero hope for the future.

Anyway, enjoy the second best day of the year, the first day of March Madness.

I live for this shit...

SM

Famously Futile

(Note: First time writer today, posting on one of our favorite topics. If you're wondering why Steve Francis doesn't appear on the list below, the author mentioned that he hadn't yet formed a solid opinion of the Franchise given that he's been non-existent on the court in his brief Knicks tenure. Besides, as far as Drew's concerned, Stevie Franchise is nothing more to the Knicks than trade bait. Enjoy.)

If I were to tell you about my history as a Knick endorser, I'm sure it would be no different than the turmoil-beset tales of any other New Yorker who's suffered through those lousy Mets (Old Mets, New Mets, whatever), dem Bum Dodgers or, more recently, them Damn Yankees.

No matter how much abuse we get from our sports teams, however, it doesn't change the fact that as New Yorkers, we've all got big dreams. That goes for everyone on the socio-economic ladder; for the working class as much as for the guys with white collars, this is a city of expectations.

Our sanitation workers and blue-collar heroes can expect a healthy pension and six-figure homes in the outer boroughs with hard work and diligent civil service. Our out-of-work actors can expect to make it to off-Broadway shows, reality television notoriety, and local commercial spots.

But a part of me will always feel as if my ambitions are higher, that my goals should be respected, that no man can stand in my way. It stands to reason that my sports team (the Knickerbockers) should also embody this ethic.

This year: no dice. I have chosen not to browbeat the young squad, however, because I liken their growing pains to my own. I've yet to accomplish some of my more basic goals despite the stat-stuffin' potential I've been endowed with, but I know the time will come.

For now then I'll ease up on the Boys and let them become men under the pretext of patience. The Knicks have only matched the mediocrity and undue hype of our post-millennium city. No Y2K disaster befell us, the MTA is as shitty as ever for MORE money and the nightlife's been reduced to janky Midwest transplants smoking stogies on the Lower East Side with tight shirts as their only shelter.

Now you're starting to see just how much the Knicks fit into our skyline/byline.

I'll start with the more promising Knicks and work my way down to the dregs so you'll see what I mean.

Stephon Marbury: I don't know what is a sadder story. Is it that Starbury has already reached the peak of his success (his story emulated in Spike Lee's He Got Game) or that TWO... count TWO... point guards have been able to take former Steph projects to unforeseen success (Nash with the Phoenix Suns and Kidd with the lowly Nets)?

Or is that the Iverson comparisons have all but vanished as A.I. builds his argument for Hall of Fame balloting while Stephon complains about "intentional" fouls to injure his shoulder and the limitations placed on him by his coach?

I can't even begin to explain how much this guy's career has plummeted. But to his credit, the stamp of underachiever usually means you've been bestowed with those 'expectations' I spoke of earlier. He has never dipped below the 15 point, 7 assist mark...at least not until anti-offense Long Island Larry came to town.

He has never let the critics deter him from taking it strong to the basket and risking his reputation for the good of the team. He has never stopped wanting to win and doing his best to sort through winning techniques. It must addle Mr. Marbury that success has eluded him so, and even when he's languishing on the bench, I can see that in his eyes.

That's why I love him. He is the Coney Island kid who's hype carried so far that his cousin got drafted on it. Watch out for him. He's not done.

Jalen Rose: As soon as I heard he was unhappy in Toronto, I knew he'd be a Knick (more on this theme later). The Fab Fiver has also, arguably, seen the pinnacle of his hardwood days. During his Pacers stint under Brown, he was a quick-shooting southpaw guard/forward who created problems for defenders, defended other guards, and provided a real threat alongside f*cking Reggie Miller.

But, it was also during this time that the press and Rose developed a strained relationship. Like most good players stifled by Brown's tactics, he wanted more shots and to feel accepted as one of the league's stars.

That never happened and he always resented it. My guess is he became disillusioned with basketball and played only for the contract, hoping his game might someday receive the spotlight it deserved.

Here he is. Let's go Jalen. I've seen that dribble-pull-up of yours and I know you can. Let's go.

Jamal Crawford: From what I hear, he's a great guy: a real joker around friends, generous with family and lover of the Game.

But what could be more 2000's New York than a Seattle prep basketball star who played at Michigan (after the NCAA ban), was drafted to Chicago (after Jordan) and became a star in his own right in unfavorable situations? It's like the indie bands who come from Wisconsin and Iowa, where they saw some success, to take Williamsburg by storm because their fun fans pack it up to see them no matter where they go.

That's Jamal.

When he scored 51 as a Bull, I said, "that kid's good but the 50-point game is going to be fool's gold." Who else to invest in the pyrite market but Isiah Thomas?

Crawford fought with Kirk Hinrich for minutes at the one-two position before deciding he should just take the Game by his lonesome and hope some team might notice. Oh, we noticed. He has incredible talent and handles for DAYS, but I've yet to see him create a good shot for a teammate.

He will start to "get it" under LB, if only because he might need to audition for another team -- a team that doesn't care a lick about defense or good shots. Maybe, he'll have a Seattle homecoming. If so, it's been nice Jamal.

Quentin Richardson: Let's put it this way, on NBA.com his marriage to Brandy is listed among Career Highlights/Notes. This darling factoid sums up his worth in the league. Either that is his claim to fame or the stupid little hands-to-head gang symbol that he and buddy Darius Miles use to signify their ineffectiveness.

I don't know what's worse than a shooter who can't shoot. Maybe a dunker who can't dunk like Darvin Ham? Or a rebounder who can't rebound like Greg Ostertag?

I can't say I've much hope for him but he does represent the lost L.A.'er in New York, clinging to Tinseltown glitter amid smelly subway steam.

Eddy Curry: Even after spending all night trying to come up with a heart failure joke, none come to mind. I pity him for wanting to play a game that he's not even respected for playing.

He should have taken Chicago's money because it's the closest thing a Black man would've had to reparations since O.J. got acquitted. They offered him a salary of 500K-a-year to stop playing. I don't know what's sweeter than that.

Wait! It's playing at the Garden where everyone gets a contract and the boos reign/rain.

Jerome James: As soon as he showed up in the playoffs of 2004 with the Sonics, I knew he'd be a Knick. We haven't had a good Big Man since Patrick and we're like drug addicts looking for a fix when it comes to one. (You sure this is good stuff man? C'mon maaan, this is my last five-spot so this better be your best stuff!)

David Lee/Channing Frye/Nate Robinson: The jury's still out on these guys because I can see the effort. Frye will be the best pro as a jump-shooting PF.

And there you have it. These players aren't unlike Andrew Ricketts. They have all seen praise and been in the company of success. Now is their (my) time to prove all the scouts right and the naysayers wrong. I got you, fellas.

Drew Ricketts

I'm Proud to be Who I Am

So AFOMG has been shoving this WBC in my face for the last 3 days. I trust the kid like I do every one not named Sippy Momo Sr. and gave it a shot.

The result... a long search down my family tree.

Having watched the Dominican-Cuba game game last night, I realized that something was wrong. See one thing about Sip is that Sip loves Sip... except of course when he is blasting the sweet sounds of Coldplay and watching a bunch of badass Dominicans play the ball.

So I needed to know that I had some Dominican blood in me. Having seen David Ortiz's blast followed by maybe the coolest post-homerun facial expression I'd ever witnessed, I was completely sold.

Then, when Fernando Rooney trotted out to the mound looking more intimidating than Frank, the 14 year old street tough on the 11-and-under Safe Haven team that me and Big Maciej coach. Frank reached his pinnacle of intimidation the day he pulled me and Maciej aside to show us something:

"Yo Maciej, Sip...check this out." He opens his backpack and shows us his 9 milli: "I crazy right?"

Well Frank sure was, but Fernando Rooney is straight perfect.

So I called Senior and did some digging:

SM: Hey pop

Senior: How's my favorite son? (under his breath) That blogging loser...

SM: What was that pop?

Senior: Oh nothing, had a scratch in my throat

SM: So Pop, it's important for me to know. Who am I?

Senior: What do you mean?

SM: Where does our family really come from? We are too cool to be 100% Jews.

Senior: Wow Sip, I never wanted this day to come. But I guess you're old enough, and you've certainly proven observant enough. The truth is, when I married your mother she promised me that I would never tell you. See, your mom is a big time Jew. I loved her and told her I would never tell you the full truth. But here it is. My great grandfather Siposito Momo was a minor league baseball player who grew up in the Dominican.

SM: No way.

Senior: Way. I hope you understand why I couldn't tell you. Mom LOVES being a jew, but I kind of get the sense that you're not buying into a whole lot of that religious business.

SM: Oh I'm proud dad. But the void we tried filling all those years with religion just couldn't cut it. Dominican blood and El Presidentes though, now that's a different story.

So it turns out that Momo is our Americanized name, and in fact my family's birth name was Momosito, until we made our way to America...A country by the way, that I am not happy to be from.

So we lost to Korea. Korea is to Asia what Oregon is to the west coast... that is, who the fuck is Korea?

While I know any team can win a baseball game on any day, Team USA's result last night was just horrible. But you know what, I don't care. I'm a Dominican now, so vamanos Republica Dominicana!

You see, in the WBC II, the World Blogging Classic, I have decided to blog for my mother country, the Dominican Republic. I'm no traitor like Mr. March himself.

Upon hearing the news of my loyalty, buzz was flying in the D.R. Miguel Tejada called me and offered me some wicked Dominican juice.

Jose Reyes taught me a new handshake, one that is much cooler than the previous 1 by Baron Davis and J Rick/ S Momo and Big Maciej.

Pedro offered to show me that famed mango tree he used to sit under as a youth.

Ugueth Urbina killed a man.

And Fernando Rooney gave me a book about wearing your hat like the coolest person in the world.

So today, SM is proud to be a Dominican.

It never made sense to me why I was so attatched with Johnny Utah's "Vaya con Dios" line. I mean, Point Break has so many perfect one liners.

But today it makes sense. Spanish is in my blood.

Hasta Luego,

SM

It Gets No Better Than This

So this weekend was one of the best. Me and my gambling crew, some of the best in the world, aka Yanni's Nine, hit the Vegas.

SM
Yanni
Cousin
Schubes
Little Schubes
Goat
Zimmy
Kenny from Camp
Danny D

Lot of amazing personalities coming together to make the perfect trip. So I don't really know how to describe it or where to go from here. But this one was perfect and it deserves chronicling here on the site.

And at the end I'll drop some Mets knowledge on you all that make this post more than just a recap of a weekend in the life of young Sip.

So here are the big ten.

10. Talking life with Lindsay Price at Pure in Caesars Palace on Saturday Night.

You may remember Lindsay as Steve Sanders' Asian wife on 90210 and a key cog in the Club Dread sensation of 2003. Girl's seen a lot in her time.

9. The Wedding that almost was.

Me and cousin Jason were tending to a couple of betties from Chicago when they introduced us to their two friends that wanted to get married.

The girl could barely stand and the guy was a giant Bobby (Gotti Boy, has wire tattoo around arm, spiked hair and calls me bro). Then the bobby dropped the line, "Before I get married, I need to grab a sandwich, bro."

I was buying.

8. Cousin Jason roles with Cowlishaw.

We see Cowlishaw at our sports book, J takes him down, and for the rest of the trip we are "buying" and "selling" everything.

7. Cuse +245 and +6 v Pittsburgh

Let's just say that young Sip took this game to the cleaners. And speaking of gambling here are Sip's big 4 of the 1st round of the tourney

Texas -16 v Penn
Memphis -15 v Oral Roberts
Conn -22 v Albany
Cuse -1 v Tex A&M

6. Cousin Evan crip walking

He would make a solid hit in black jack and then hit the casino floor and drop the ridiculous crip walk. I was buying the shit out of it.

5. Ty Schubes at the strip club on Saturday.

Cousin Jason's little bro with 3 girls caressing his greatness. The kid is the best, has a propensity for having relations with his neighbors and put a giant smile on Zimy's face

4. Making it off my flight alive.

I was reltively positive that one of the dude's on my flight was a terrorist ready to take over my flight. He fit the profle, looked very professional and appeared to be making eye contact with his terrorist pal. I spent the entire flight with an eye on this guy and I was definitely sweating every move.

3. The Three-Six Mafia

Completely unrelated and about a week late but those guys made the Oscars incredible.

2. Seamus O'Toole

I'm not one to quote "Wedding Crashers or "Old School", but I was buying the shit out of "Seamus O'Toole. Let's get drunk," Owen Wilson's line from the movie. It went over well with pretty much everyone along with BD's "Get up, it's the 4th quarter." Good times from both.

1. Fading Fez

It was Wilmer Valderama's bday at the bar we were at on Saturday. Let's just say that that dude is the worst. Like truly the worst. He is the A-Rod of That 70's Show.

Dude is just a giant herb. He deserves nothing good that comes to him. He was "mcing" the party and every word out of his mouth made him look like a more giant herb.

Man do I hate that kid.

1A. Being dragged to a bar after the Sopranos by the roommate and the big fella and staying awake till 2 a.m. PT despite working on about 10 hours of sleep in my last 96.

Not my finest showing.

Anyway, as for the Mets, AFOMG tells me that Carlos Beltran is swinging a real hot bat in the World Baseball Classic, although his facial wart is still intact. Maybe his wife digs it.

VCD,

SM

The All-Steroid Team

In my mind everything was going to be perfect.

The polls would open early, by 11 a.m. at the latest. Crowds would stream in, a mass of humanity finally asserting, bravely, that digital freedom was on the march.

Hundreds would vote. When it was over, fans of Yankees 2000 would be pictured on the cover of Time magazine, with a triumphant finger drenched in digital purple ink proving the enduring image of the day.

Sip and I would be celebrated among People’s 50 Sexiest Bloggers. The election would go down as a watershed moment in internet history, immortalized by a special edition of the old Life magazine, prompted to come out of retirement by the sheer enormity of the event.

In my mind, the vote was going to be perfect.

But as Phil Collins so eloquently put it, something happened on the way to heaven. The decisive winner of the election was… drum roll… choosing not to vote at all!

Salt.

When all the votes were tallied, fewer than 10% of our readers had voted. I mean, wow. They had better voter turnout in Fallujah last year. Fallujah. You know, burning bodies hanging from bridges? The possibility of death-by-insurgent lurking around every corner?

And yet somehow, in spite of all that, Fallujans voted in higher numbers than our audience, which merely had to click a button on a mouse. You almost wouldn’t have thought it possible.

But even if my hopes for an election day triumph were dashed, I’m not willing to give up on our readers yet.That’s right, the polls will open once more, and this time, I've got a topic that I think more people will have an opinion on: what Barry Bonds' alleged steroid use should mean in terms of his Hall of Fame eligibility. If interested in voting, you can find the poll box under his name on the list below.

So that brings me to the subject of this post. Over the past several years there’s been a lot of talk about steroid use in baseball. There’s been a lot of raised eyebrows, a lot of speculation, a lot of innuendo.

A website like us, our bread and butter is the latter. So with that in mind, I’d like to present you with the official roster for the Yankees 2000 All-Steroid Team. Were all of the players selected below actually on the juice? Do we have concrete proof of it? Not as such.

But steroid transgressions have been suggested for each of the players listed below, and that suggestion was good enough for us. One quick ground rule: outfielders were selected All-Star game style; that is, three outfielders rather than an LF, CF, and RF. So without further ado…

P – Roger Clemens

OK, this one's largely speculative. But ever since a certain well-placed source as CBS-sports began a whisper campaign that Roger Clemens was set to be outed as juicer, well, the idea has stuck with us here at Y2K.

Clemens defies all logic. As regular readers are aware, Young Sip was in New York recently. The night before he went back to San Francisco the two of us watched a little 1986 Mets. As those trumpets set in during the opening sequence, Sip turned to me and said "This whole thing was so ridiculous." Then the shot of Clemens flashed on the screen, and Sip instantly exclaimed, "What's really ridiculous is that he's still the best pitcher in baseball."

Indeed, you wouldn't have thought he had it in him in the early 1990s, when Clemens had 4 straight disappointing seasons en route to a 40-39 record between 1993 and 1996, his final seasons in Boston. Since then, The Rocket has gone 149-61, won two World Series championships, three Cy Young awards, and showed serious 'roid rage directed toward a strapping catcher affectionately known as the Monster.

Clemens is one of the best pitchers of all time. Was he a juicer? It's impossible to know, but the rumor is out there, and that qualifies him for this list.

C – Pudge Rodriguez

You know, in life there are some people you just dislike. There are also people you flat out despise. Pudge Rodriguez always fell into the latter category for me. For a long time the only good thing I had to dislike about Pudge was that he stole the limelight from my boy and yours, Mike Piazza.

But thanks to a syringe, then the introduction of steroid testing, the loss of 20 pounds and virtually all hitting ability, now I’ve got a good reason to look back at the career of Ivan Rodriguez and say, “wow, did I hate that fuck or what?”

Indeed, few things were as comical as the fact that this guy showed up to spring training last year 20 lbs. lighter than he’d been in 2004, and pronounced the loss in bulk was because he wanted to become more agile. "I've got a new program," Rodriguez said. "I'm running a lot of sprints on the track and changed my program a little bit.”

Makes sense. If I were coming off a season in which I’d hit .334 with a .383 OBP and 86 RBI I’d probably change my program too. And then when I proceeded to hit .276 with a .290 OBP and 50 RBI, I’d probably fess up, admit I was a ‘roider, pack up and never be heard from again.

But Pudge didn’t do any of that, and that’s why I hate him.

1B – Mark McGwire

Before Tuesday’s bombshell disclosures about Barry Bonds, perhaps no player was the subject of as much steroid speculation as Mark McGwire. Because of his role in that charmed summer of 1998, back when mammoth biceps were lovingly (not disparagingly) referred to as “Popeye arms”, McGwire’s rumored steroid use has always appeared a violation of the public’s trust.

For whatever reason, probably because he was white, it was McGwire that the country rallied around in 1998. He was the guy we wanted to see break the record. Sammy Sosa was like the sidekick, doing his little hop, putting the pressure on the big guy, but in the end we all knew how we wanted the story to end.

And for a while there we thought it had ended perfectly. McGwire slugged 70 homeruns, the new decade of numbers almost compensating for how awkward and anticlimactic homerun No. 62 was (easily the least imposing home run he hit all season -- fun fact for Mets fans, he hit it against Steve Trachsel, then a Chicago Cub).

But the story did not end with the close of the 1998 season, and it’s still not quite closed yet. Indeed, something happened on the way to the Hall of Fame. McGwire’s grand jury testimony last March made him a national punch line, and now it’s uncertain whether his 583 homeruns or the role he played in revitalizing baseball’s popularity after the strike of 1994 will be enough to get him enshrined in Cooperstown.

All of which is to say, that "Got Milk?" ad he posed for looks pretty ridiculous right now, wouldn't you say? (Incidentally, if you want a good laugh, run a Google images search of Mark McGwire. The vast majority of the pictures are hysterical.)

2B – Bret Boone

Long before he dyed his hair platinum blond and became entirely useless on the baseball field (and later, a sobbing mess), Bret Boone managed to turn himself into quite a good little ballplayer.

Boone was your typical entirely serviceable, actually better-than-average second baseman during the early part of his career, spanning stops in Cincinatti, Atlanta, and San Diego. Boone was good for 12 home runs a season in his early years, and then by the time he reached his natural prime he became a 20-HR threat.

But nothing prepared us for the offensive onslaught he unleashed in 2001 when he all of a sudden hit 37 homeruns and collected 141 RBI.

To be honest, Boone kind of bores me, but if you look at his career stats, it’s possible that no one benefited from the juice more obviously than this guy. As a matter of fact, I don’t think there’s anyone in baseball who doubts that he was a ‘roider. Jose Canseco devoted a part of his book to calling out Boone specifically, and while it's worth taking much of what Canseco says with a grain of salt, his allegation against Boone we can pretty much take as gospel.

3B – Ken Caminiti

I’m not interested in spitting on this guy’s grave. All that really needs to be said is that for all the joking around about steroids, there’s a serious side to steroid abuse, and no one embodies that more perfectly than Ken Caminiti.

After admitting he was a regular steroid-user in his major league career, Caminiti died in 2004 of a heart attack. He was 41 years old.

SS – Rafael Santana

Alright, it’s true I couldn’t think of a shortstop, but that’s not the only reason Rafael Santana finds himself on this list. I’m not sure what it is, but Santana must have done something really bad in his life. I mean, the guy isn’t even mentioned in the 1986 Mets Tape – even George Foster was mentioned in the 1986 Mets Tape!

Now look, maybe it was his batting line that year that kept him out of the video. His .218 average,.285 OBP, .254 Slugging Percentage, 1 HR, and 28 RBI that year are not the kind of numbers that lend themselves to a highlight reel.

But consider this: in 1987, Santana hit .255 with a .302 OBP, and a .346 Slugging Percentage. He clubbed 5 homeruns (that’s right, five, two more than he’d hit in the previous three years combined), and set a career high with 44 RBIs.

Was Santana an early adopter in the steroid craze? The numbers are pretty damning. For my money, I’m saying Santana was either a juicer or the leader of the cocaine drug cartel that brought down the careers of Dwight Gooden and Darryl Strawberry, and later threatened the career of Scott Kazmir.

OF – Barry Bonds

By this point everyone's familiar with the case against Barry Bonds. It is a near certainty that Bonds is a juicer, but that doesn't change the fact that he was always an incredible ballplayer. Indeed, in the early 1990s, the discussion was always who would you rather have, Bonds or Griffey? Both were 5-tool superstars who produced year-in and year-out.

But something happened to Bonds around the time of his 35th birthday. Always a great player and a consistent home run threat, Bonds became a home run hitting machine. His slugging prowess reached a peak in 2001, when, at the age of 37, Bonds slugged 73 home runs, 24 more than his previous career high.

Almost more telling than the numbers with Bonds is the dramatic change in his physique over the years. When he broke into the majors he was almost lanky. Over the years he bulked up somewhat, but nothing you wouldn't expect of a man going from his young 20s to late 20s.

Today Bonds sports biceps that aren't quite at McGwire's level, but close. His head size is said to be expanding. His home runs numbers continue to defy logic. As the Hound is fond of saying, baseball's been played long enough that you can know something fishy when you see it. People in their late 30s don't all of a sudden become the greatest home run hitting force the game has ever known (Roy Hobbs not withstanding).

That is of course, unless they use steroids.

Assuming the evidence is conclusive that Barry Bonds used steroids, should he still be eligible for induction into the Hall of Fame?
	Yes, because he was Hall of Fame caliber before he is alleged to have started juicing.
	Yes, because it's unfair to single out Bonds.
	Yes, but his plaque should have an asterisk (or a syringe) next to his statistics.
	No, his accomplishments are tainted.
Free polls from Pollhost.com

OF – Sammy Sosa

Ahh Slammin' Sammy. A committed cheater, not only is Sammy Sosa suspected of having used steroids at least throughout the late 1990s and early '00s, he was caught in the act of using a corked bat once the juice started failing him.

Sosa's a lot like Bonds in a way. He certainly was never as good or dynamic as Bonds, but as a home run threat, the two had similar pre-steroids peaks (although Bonds was far more consistent). Sosa was a consistent mid-30s home run threat, topping out at 40 in his pre-steroid years.

Sosa was a guy you could see having one of those seasons where everything was perfect and he'd hit about 52 home runs. In the old days we'd have called it a career year. When he exploded for 66 home runs in 1998, we were awed. We should have known better, but we ate it up. Along with McGwire, Sosa captivated the nation. He was fan-friendly and personable, always happy to give a sound bite.

And then as steroid rumors persisted, something happened to Sammy's demeanor. He became hostile with the media, including one bizarre incident with Sports Illustrated's Rick Reilly in which he insisted he didn't have to prove anything to Reilly, because Reilly wasn't his father. In his Congressional testimony last March, Sosa suddenly lost the ability to speak English.

Over the years, Sosa's public reputation was so thoroughly tarnished that when he retired this offseason, his departure from the game resulted in none of the lovefest sendoffs you'd have predicted. Like other suspected steroid users, Sosa's retirement was a relief.

OF – Jose Canseco

It’s arguable whether he’s the player single most identified with steroids in the court of public opinion, but for people involved in Major League Baseball, no man did more to popularize and normalize the use of performance enhancing drugs than Jose Canseco.

Known as “The Chemist” because of his tireless devotion to substance-induced body development, Canseco is the Godfather of the steroid era. Canseco ‘roided his way to 462 career homeruns, corrupting numerous players (some on this list) and taking down Madonna along the way.

For more information on Canseco, please refer to his incomparable “Juiced: Wild Times, Rampant ‘Roids, Smash Hits, and How Baseball Got Big”. I read that book in less than 16 hours, you can too.

DH - Jason Giambi

The last starter on the All-Steroid Team, Jason Giambi is the stereotypical steroid user. He's big, he's greasy, he's a party-hard kind of guy.

In his book, Canseco referred to Giambi as "the most obvious juicer in the game". Looking at pictures such as this one, or perhaps more famously the one of Giambi on the cover of ESPN the Magazine, it's hard to really argue with that logic. In terms of career abnormalities, I'm still giving that award to Bret Boone, but it's worth keeping Canseco's declaration in mind.

As far as I'm concerned, Giambi deserves everything bad that ever happens to him on the ball field. He spurned the Oakland A's so he could go play for the corporate Yankees, the team that his young, brash club could never overcome. It would have been like Pedro signing with the Yankees if the Red Sox had never won the World Series. Maybe not quite as bad as that, but pretty bad.

Like many others, I was disgusted last year when Giambi won Comeback Player of the Year honors. It just goes to show that just like we were in the late '90s, we're still blinded by the long ball.

So there you have it, boys and girls, that about does it. Sure, we could have expanded this list. We could have talked about Rafael Palmeiro coming off the bench, about his finger waving in front of Congress in the spring and the earplugs he had to wear come fall.

But we'll cap it there. If readers feel I made any serious ommissions, I'd be curious to hear competing starting lineups for the All-Steroid Team. As it is, I like my starting nine.

And I sure as hell like the weather here in New York. Enjoy it everyone, have a good weekend. And if you find it in your heart to vote in this poll, well, I'd appreciate it.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Post-Counterpost: World Baseball Classic Edition

What's up guys. Yankees 2000 is coming out with double the content today, as Sip and I take turns opining on the World Baseball Classic. Turns out the two of us have completely different takes on the WBC -- Sip hates it, I love it. Go figure that.

So we've both written pieces about it, and we submit them for your approval. Neither of us read the other's before posting, so the differences in opinion are completely genuine.

If you have any comments you'd like to share, it might be easiest to consolidate them under this post. We love hearing your thoughts so please don't be shy.

So it's an exciting day here at Y2K. Not only is there double the content, but we're running our inaugural Yankees 2000 poll, and it'd be awesome if everyone could vote in it. As you can see, the poll is available at the end of this post. We'd appreciate it if you took time to read the two posts before voting, but, readers, it's your world, we just write in it.

Vote or Die,

A.F.O.M.G.

What's your take on the World Baseball Classic?
	Love it!
	Hate it!
	Haven't made up my mind.
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Post: Goosebumps in March

It happened around 6:50 p.m. yesterday when Chase Utley came to the plate with two on and two out in the bottom of the eighth inning. Team USA was trailing Team Canada 8-6.

A.F.O.M.G. was on the treadmill. My daily 25-minute jog was in minute 33. I wasn't trying to work off the previous night's chocolate soufflé, I was hooked on the screen several feet away.

When Utley unloaded on that offering from the Canadian pitcher, my arms rose instinctively above my head. I was set for a celebration.

It didn’t come. Utley’s ball traveled some 400 feet before landing safely in the centerfielder’s glove. But as my arms came down and the beating of my heart slowed, I felt a familiar feeling.

It’s the feeling you get when you’re watching something dramatic unfold in a game you actually care about.

Goosebumps. In March. A damn good feeling.

Now it wasn’t as good as the feeling I get when a packed house at Shea is going crazy because Pedro just struck out the side. Or because David Wright just hit a game-winning home run. Or because the Mets just beat the Braves in the heat of a playoff race.

But it’s still fun and exciting and decidedly more enjoyable than a run of the mill spring training game. Those are enjoyable enough on some level. I was thrilled to watch Mike Pelfrey take on Team Puerto Rico this past weekend, or to finally see Lastings Milledge dig in at the plate. Spring Training gives you a little glimpse at the future you’re so accustomed to reading about, and that’s fun enough.

But for all their merits, spring training games are decidedly devoid of goosebump-inducing moments. And like so many other sports fans out there, I live for those goosebumps.

And so it is that after a healthy initial dose of skepticism, I am officially on board with the World Baseball Classic. I saw Team USA’s opener against Mexico and found it genuinely exciting, and then it all carried over into yesterday’s thriller, an 8-6 loss against Canada.

Is it perfect? No. After the game was over, I considered how unsatisfying it would have been if the US had tied the game, sent it into extra innings only to have it all end in a tie.

I find the idea of pitch counts a bit unsavory. The fear of injury looms over this thing like a nasty shadow. And the truth is that there just may be no good time in the calendar year in which to hold this event.

(Note: It’s worth mentioning that I am in no way a college basketball fan. Other people live and die by March Madness, I just can’t get into it. All of which is to say that where for other people the WBC interferes with their usual sports routine and they’re not about to make the change, that’s not an issue for me.)

So there are kinks that need to be worked out, some of which it may not be possible to resolve (i.e., the timing of the event and the threat of injury).

One kink that it won’t be possible to resolve is the unfortunate and uncomfortable situation where loyalty to Team USA requires you to root for someone on one of the Mets’ archenemies, a Yankee or a Brave.

It’s a tough spot, and the truth is that I haven’t quite resolved my feelings on the matter yet. When Chipper slugged that home run to give Team USA a critical insurance run against Mexico in the opener, I’m not gonna lie, I really wished someone else had hit it.

And that’s sort of the way I feel about everything good that A-Rod, Derek Jeter, or Jonathon Damon does. It’s like, I’ll take it, but next time let’s be sure to have someone else provide the fireworks, shall we?

But should I hate the WBC for putting me in this conflicted position? I think that’s silly, and a little petty. I get a little feeling of pride when Team USA wins, and for me, Yankee hater that I am, it doesn’t ruin it for me that there are some Yankees on the team. Better if they were Mets, but needless to say all the Mets’ players are on non-US teams (we kid because we love).

At the end of the day, the WBC is offering up some pretty damn exciting baseball. Yesterday’s USA-Canada game didn’t quite reach thriller proportions, but it had the makings of a thriller, and if Utley’s ball had sailed over the centerfield wall at the BOB (or whatever it’s called now), I defy anyone who was watching to honestly say they wouldn’t have been excited.

That was just one game. So far I’ve seen two. I sincerely believe that the Classic’s only going to get better if baseball decides to stick with this thing. I’m confident that the next time around there will be still more star players participating, and that alone will improve the product on the field.

I’m willing to bet that players who aren’t participating are watching, and they’re hearing the excitement and enthusiasm in the crowds, and they’ll want to be a part of it.

In future iterations the novelty will be gone, yes, but it will be replaced by feelings of regret and resolve carried over from previous Classics. Say the Dominicans lose to the Venezuelans in the final (this might not even be possible, but go with me), next time around the DR-Venezuela games would be must-watch games for any follower.

Neither team would want to give an inch. Players on the teams would talk about it constantly in the months leading up to the next tournament. It could be bigger than Yankees-Red Sox, different, but very possibly bigger.

It's easy to forget it now but the Yankees-Red Sox rivalry ebbs and flows depending on the talents of the teams (it's like Mets-Braves in that way). The underlying disdain is there, but the drama depends on the quality of the teams. In the WBC, quality is pretty much assured (at least for countries with established interest in baseball), so between that constant and national pride, I doubt whether the intensity would ebb and flow in the same manner.

The fans waving flags in the stands, the crowds gathered around the one available radio in dirt-poor Latin American villages (Los Conucos, what what!), all of them would eat it up. Hell, I’m loving it already and Team USA is 1-1.

So I’m on board. I’m officially into this WBC. I won’t ask our readers to fall in love with it like I have, but I’m willing to bet that a majority of you out there haven’t even given it a shot yet. Try it. Team USA’s next game is tomorrow at 1 p.m. against South Africa, so set those DVRs and watch it next time you’re free.

One game may make you excited to see another. And if you’re like me, two games will make you excited to see a World Baseball Classic come 2010.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Counterpost: Classic or a Back Seat to the Sunbelt Tourney?

So we are approaching young Sip's favorite time of the year. We have March Madness leading into Opening day, 2 of my 3 favorite sporting events of the year (first weekend of football being the third).

You'd be amazed how much sports viewing you can get done when you're unemployed. Add the sinking ship that is the Warriors to the mix and the truth is that when I'm not busy writing columns for Y2K or building my future NY real estate empire, my ass is usually parked on the couch with ESPN on.

So all the ingredients are in place. Huge baseball fan, lots of free time, extremely good mood and what should be top class baseball on television in the WBC.

Yet today, in the midst of the US' stunning loss to those hockey players from Canada, I found myself not caring at all.

I found myself flipping channels frequently even taking breaks to go to the store and to talk business with one of my real estate consultants back east.

All this in the midst of a very important game.

So what is it? What is it about this Classic that just doesn't work with me, a person who should be the game's target audience.

And that's where it hit me.

When it comes to exhibitions I find myself glued to the NBA All-Star Game. The World Cup I find amazing and even hockey, when it wasn't this year's Olympics, gets me.

But the two sports that I can't watch when in exhibition, baseball and football, happen to be my two favorites.

That is when I realized, baseball is not meant for exhibition. The games are too slow for exhibition. There are not enough exiciting plays in baseball and football.

It doesn't matter if you have the best players in the world on the field, there won't be more homeruns or sensational diving plays. Just like in the pro bowl, where there won't be more long bombs.

Baseball and football are games where you have to appreciate a "quality pitch" or a 5-yard run on first down.

You appreciate the smaller things. Which is why, when the games don't matter, when you dont have a vested interest in your team or a team, it loses some steam.

It may just be that I am not behind the US. The Yankees are the one team in professional sports that I truly hate and for that reason, I can't root for the US. I can't root for a team with A-Rod and Jeter.

So in this international storm of baseball, where the best teams and players come out and play, I find myself not caring who wins.

That's pretty remarkable for a guy like me. I can watch pretty much any baseball game all year and have some interest in the outcome.

But in the WBC, I have nothing. Which is why, come game time, I find myself flipping through the channels.

It's unfortunate because I was excited for this.

But in the end, I'd much rather be watching the NBA All-Star Game or Olympic basketball or World Cup soccer than the World Baseball Classic.

VCD,

SM

Kim's new bf and an employed Sip

So before I get going with today's post, I wanted to report that after a 3 month struggle (or vacation) in SF, Young Sip has found a job. Assistant Manager of Promotions at AT&T Park for the SF Giants. It's not the front office but it gets me to the stadium every day at a wage that should keep me in my daily routine of sandwiches and water.

To those who supported my struggle, much love.

To the "anonymous" fucker from yesterday's post, sack up and throw a name on there. Show some balls. Unless of course it was AFOMG, then it would be very funny. (Sorry Sip, wasn't me.)

But as you can see, I do check the comments on Y2k. It's a good way to get a sense of who our readers are and what their thoughts may be.

Yesterday Cousin Tonks demanded a more appropriate serving of Kim's boyfriend, Barry. Cousin, like with life, you are correct.

Back in 2001, the Mets had a manager that everyone loved. He was fun, fiery and crazy. He changed his lineup constantly and it worked. While the Mets were clearly Mike Piazza's team, Bobby was always in the background.

Bobby was great. I loved him, he was among my favorite Mets. There aren't too many other managers that you can say that about.

In season 3 of 24 there was Chase Hammond. He too was fun, fiery and crazy. For those of you who haven't seen season 3, Chase was the young, white Curtis -- a badass field agent that garnered our respect on many levels. Not only did he dominate on the field, but he made headlines in the gossip pages for being the proud owner of the penis that found its way into Kim Bauer.

I loved Chase, we loved Chase. Just like we loved Bobby.

But for certain reasons both Chase and Bobby had to go. Chase had one hand after his heroism in the finale of season 3. (Editor's note: Point of contention here. Didn't they make it clear that they had been able to surgically restore his hand because it was only severed briefly? How did he get a job in security in season 4 if he had only one hand?)

Bobby had one arm too, you might say, from all his bullpen changes and double switches. In both cases, the people at the top were ready to have these guys move on, whether or not we as fans felt the same way.

The decisions were controversial not only for what they stood for, but for the things that would follow.

The Mets hired Art Howe. Howe was tall, indecisive and a herb. He has a feminine name and from pretty much day 1 we didnt like him. One month into his tenure at Shea and we had had enough. "Fire Art" chants in the stands and those demanding Bobby V's return grew restless.

So last night we were introduced to Barry.

First off, the dude's name is Barry. Barry Bonds is hatable, Barry Lyons, the former Mets backstop, stunk and all and all, Barry is just a name meant for losers. To my readers named Barry, I'm sorry, but I have no idea who you are because I know no male Barry's.

But it's clear, from the name, that the writers want us to hate this guy.

Like Howe, Barry is tall, indecisive and a herb. Even worse, it is made clear that Barry, the type of guy who should know Kim only in his mind's eye when he is beating off, won Kim over when she was in therapy, completely vulnerable yet still ridiculously hot.

People like Chase beat up Barry for kicks. This guy belongs on the Discovery Channel, not anywhere near being associated with sweet Kimmy Bauer.

So yes Cousin, like you, I hope Barry get his ass killed. Life would never get better for this guy anyway. When Kim comes to her senses and is put back in place by pops, Barry will be on his way back to Starbucks trying to "regurgitate Gordon Wood," to pick up some tail.

Unfortuantely, the only thing he would get is an overpriced cup of coffee and the realization that he is a 1 to Kim's 1,000,000.

So Barry and the actor that plays Barry, a diehard Yankee fan since 1996 so I've read, hope things don't work out for you.

As for Kim Bauer, word in the cyber world is that she is into jocks. Think she'll settle for an assistant manager of promotions? I can get her some free towels to dry her perfect blonde hair.

I guess we will see soon enough.

VCD,

SM

Barry Bonds and the Juice: Tropicana It Ain't

Hey guys, Sip's already written a piece for today (it appears immediately after this one), but I wanted this site to do its part in raising awareness of Barry Bonds' steroid use. The link above (click on the title of this post) leads to a synopsis of the forthcoming Barry Bonds expose Game of Shadows, penned by two San Francisco Chronicle scribes who reported on the BALCO investigation.

As regular readers know, we here at Yankees 2000 hate what steroids have done to the game, and this is the surest evidence yet that Bonds, the most prominent suspected juicer still active (and potentially of all time, although a case could be made for Mark McGwire or Sammy Sosa), was actually a committed steroid user.

Of course, anyone who's watched Bonds grow (perhaps mutate is a better word) over the years doesn't need to be told that, but documented evidence is always nice.

Look at that picture. Remember that guy? Hell of a ballplayer. He, Bobby Bo and Andy van Slyke used to scare the shit out of me back in the day.

But that guy is no longer. Truth is, he hasn't been the same guy in, ooh, nigh 10 years.

And actually, that's a bit of a surprise for me. As per this article, it looks like I'll need to adjust my personal memory of Bonds' steroid use.

You see, I've long said that the surest proof that Bonds was a different player, that is, a juiced-up player, in 2001 (when his personal single-season home run record jumped from 49 to, hmm, 73) was that in the postseason of 2000, John Franco was allowed to pitch to him with the game on the line. Franco struck him out, and the Mets took home a wild 5-4 win after 10 innings.

According to the book/article, Bonds' steroid use began in 1999. Bonds was irked at watching McGwire and Sosa soak up public adoration while his paltry 37 home runs made him an also-ran. So he decided to bulk up and bulk up big. Bonds improved his ABs-per-HR rate from 16.1 through the age of 34 to 10.1 at age 35. The season? 1999. That personal single-season high I mentioned before 73? That was set in 1999.

(Although in fairness, a scrawny, pre-steroids Bonds did hit 46 in 1993. No matter what the steroids investigation proves, it is worth remembering -- in a funny way it almost seems tragic to remember it -- that of all the guys who took steroids, perhaps no one needed them less than Barry Bonds.)

Since 1999, Bonds has only gotten bigger, better, and more dangerous at the plate. Meanwhile, he has evidently grown smaller, worse, and less consistent in the sack. But that's the price you pay for a personal fortune, hitting records, and baseball immortality I guess.

But maybe that won't be the only price paid by Bonds. It remains to be seen whether the price Bonds will pay is ultimately measured only in raised eyebrows and whispers, or whether it is disrepute, asterisks next to his records, and baseball infamy the likes of which only Pete Rose could relate to.

They can't take away his fortune, but they can take away his good name and his place among the all-time greats. Will they? Time will tell.

The good news, I guess, is that no longer is the media keeping quiet on the matter of steroid abuse in baseball. Indeed, articles like this one suggest they're ready to help blow its top off.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Just Imagine...

Two years ago we lost him. It was at a turning point in the Mets season, smack in the heart of a pennant chase. The Mets gave up on their kid. They gave up on Scottie Kazmir.

No one understood. Not one person in the world could imagine why the Mets would let go of their rising star, the guy whom just months earlier Fred Wilpon had put his arm around and told all the world that this kid wasn't going anyhwere. While fans continued to come out to the park to watch Piazza and his supporting cast, there was Scottie K waiting in the wings, somewhat insignificant at the time but still a huge part of our lives.

Now close your eyes and imagine a perfect world. Imagine a world where reruns of Saturday Night Live don't force you to change the channel to your fourth viewing of the Matthew McConaughey emotional roller coaster A Time To Kill.

A time when Cousin Larry and Balky were Perfect Strangers.

A time when the Warriors took all their tremendous individual pieces and made a playoff team.

Now imagine that perfect phone call, the one you get from your best pal wheh he excitedly tells you, "Yo Sip, you're not going to believe this. We brought the kid back. Scottie K is back!"

Unfortunately this is not a perfect world. Scottie K isn't back and probably never will. The one hope is that Wheel and Deal or whoever's running the show at that point inks him as a free agent, but even that's not bloody likely.

We all know the most likely scenario is that he emerges as a top tier starter over the next 4 years and then signs with the Yankees. It's the perfect way to get rich and send a big fuck you to the team across town for giving him up for a bum like Victor Zambrano.

So the world isn't perfect, but on Monday we got close.

Scottie didn't come back but someone else pretty perfect did. On Monday we got our first glimpse of Kim Bauer in two years.

She came back and she was perfect. Blonde hair, perfect smile, Keanu Reeves-like acting ability. This girl is can't miss.

I'm not going to spoil 24 for those who didn't watch it, suffice it to say that it's just awesome that we know that Kimmy will be around for at least the immediate future. Hopefully her herb boyfriend is replaced by someone at least as cool as Chase or young Sip himself, but I guess we'll just have to keep tuning in to see how that unfolds, won't we?

While 24 ended with maybe the most depressing moment in the show's history, we did get an important piece back.

There is no Scottie but there is a Kim, and while the Mets may not be that good, 24 always will be.

So I am one happy Sip.

VCD,

SM

By the way... Alton is a beast.

The Oscars, Keanu, and Some Early MLB Projections

So Oscar Night was a huge night for Yankees 2000. Jon Stewart gets the thumbs up as host and Jessica Alba looked perfect as a presenter, but one man clearly stole the show. He was an awesome interview in the pre-show and he was by far and away the most colorful presenter to hit the stage of the Kodak Gallery.

Who am I talking about? None other than my good friend and official actor of Y2k, Keanu Reeves.

While he kept his words sparse and his emotions thin, Keanu dazzled as Sandra Bullock's co-presenter (and date???) in the best audio category or some shit.

So, to Keanu, great job pal. You're the king, you nailed that shit last night. We love you.

Now to baseball. Spring training is upon us which means its time for baseball previews to sweep news stands. Well here at Y2k, you'll get it for free.

While I'll spare too much detail on each division and team here it is. My y2k projections. For those betting over/unders and what not, take these projections like you would a bible.

AL East

1. Yankees (98-64)
2. Red Sox (93-69)
3. Blue Jays (88-74)
4. D-Rays (74-88)
5. Orioles (63-99)

Things won't change in the AL East. The Yankees are the perfect regular season team. Their lineup will power them to a 19th straight championship. The Red Sox will remain the Sox and the Blue Jays, who many pick as a sleeper, will get better, but they're in the wrong division.

The D-Rays will keep getting better. They have so much young talent that's all a year older, so look for a modest improvement there. As for the O's, sorry Schubes, but they're just in a ton of trouble.

AL Central

1. Chicago White Sox (104-58)
2. Cleveland Indians (97-65)
3. Minnesota (86-76)
4. Detroit (80-82)
5. KC (67-95)

This is the best division in baseball. The White Sox and Indians are two of 4 best teams in baseball. The White Sox will only improve on last season's postseason dominance. As good as they were last year, they should be better in 2006. They have way too much pitching, a closer in place, and Thome in the lineup.

The Indians' lineup will produce the second most runs in baseball after the Yankees. Sizemore and Peralta are a year older. The two of them and Travis Hafner will be All Stars. The rotation remains very solid and assuming Bobby Wickman can hold up, this team will win the Wild Card.

The Twins still have the pitching with Santana and Radke leading a very solid rotation.

The Tigers, a solid team, just happen to be in a very tough division and the Royals aren't that bad but face the same problem as the Tigers.

AL West

1. Oakland A's (95-67)
2. Angels (89-73)
3. Rangers (84-78)
4. Mariners (66-96)

The A's are my guys this year. The rotation will be dominant. Harden-Zito is the best 1-2 in the game. Danny Haren will break out this year and Loaiza and Blanton are the best 4-5 in the game. The lineup is all a year older with players like Bobby Crosby, Dan Johnson and Nick Swisher ready to emerge.

The Angels will be solid but the rotation isn't getting any younger, and can reasonably be expected to fall off a bit in the year ahead. The Rangers still don't have the pitching yet but are getting there and the Mariners are Felix Hernandez and Ichiro and that's about all.

NL East

1. Atlanta Braves (90-72)
2. Mets (87-75)
3. Phillies (81-81)
4. Marlins (59-103)

The Mets just aren't there yet. I love them but the pitching just isn't there. When you factor in the concerns about Pedro, the inexperienced back of the rotation, and the shaky middle relief corps it doesn't add up to a division title. But keep reading and see that not all hope is lost for the Flushing faithful.

The Braves find ways to win. Bobby Cox is a genius who gets the best out of his players. With Hudy and Smoltzy leading the rotation the Braves will have the starting pitching. Assuming they can figure out their bullpen, which they have done every other year.

The Marlins, fresh off their fire sale could be the worst team in baseball

NL Central

1. Cardinals (97-65)
2. Brewers (86-76)
3. Astros (85-77)
4. Cubs (80-82)
5. Pittsburgh 77-85)
6. Cincinatti (72-90)

Can't see anyone unseating the Cardinals. The Brewers will be this year's Indians. with Sheetsy, Doug Davis and Chris Capuano leading the rotation, and Derreck Turnbow in the back, the pitching will be there.

The Astros' future depends on Clemens. If he comes back, it's a whole new ball game, but without him the team is too dependent on Oswalt and Pettite.

NL West

1. San Francisco 89-73
2. Padres 86-76
3. Los Angeles 84-78
4. Arizona 80-82
5. Colorado 64-98

This division will remain terrible. There's no one there.

If Barry Bonds is healthy, he will win this division on his own. Matt Morris will help the rotation enough to get this team over the top.

The Padres still have the pitching and adding Cam will only help the team defensively. They just don't have enough firepower to overtake the Giants.

The Dodgers are the best team in baseball from 1999.

If Arizona held onto Javy Vazquez things may have been different, but they just dont have enough top tier starters.

As for the Rockies, well...I dont think they will ever be good again.

I told you there was hope for Mets fans even though their team won't unseat the Braves, right? At 87-75, I project the Mets to win the Wild Card and return to postseason play for the first time since 2000. Better yet, they'll make good on their berth. I see the playoffs unfolding as follows.

NL

Mets beat Cardinals
Braves beat Giants

Mets beat Braves

AL

Indians beat Yankees
A's beat White Sox

Indians beat A's

World Series
Mets 4
Indians 2

NEW METS!!!

This wouldn't be Yankees2000 and I wouldnt be SM if I didn't have the Mets winning the whole thing. I think Mets fans are ready for a let down regular season where they sneak into the playoffs due to a weak NL and then go all the way in the playoffs.

As for the Tribe, they are still my #2 and Sabathia, Westbrook, Lee, and Byrd will get them through the playoffs. Unfortunately they will run into a fiery Mets squad in late October and we will be toasting in NYC.

And Keanu Reeves will sing the national anthem in Game 5.

VCD,

SM

Ballroom on Fire

What's up guys, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. Ya know, I couldn't decide whether I should write this post. On the one hand, I didn't want to do anything to detract from Sip's excellent piece below (really a must-read on an important story, don't miss it -- it appears immediately beneath mine under the title "Wheel and Deal's Biggest Slip").

But on the other I don't want any of our readers to get complacent, to feel like they know exactly what they can expect at this site without tuning in. And besides, between how excited I am for tonight and how bored I am at my job today, writing this just seems like a good idea. You know, kill two birds with one stone.

So what's so exciting? Is it tonight's Japan-Chinese Taipei showdown on the WBC? Is it the arrival of my transatlantic pal Denver Dave, or of the jet-setting A Friend of Mrs. Glass'? Exciting as all those things are, none of them can compete with what I've got lined up for this evening.

(Side note I: Of all the regions in the WBC, the Far East pool containing China, Japan, Chinese Taipei and Korea is easily the most interesting for me. Granted, the best ball probably isn't going to come out of that heat. But I was a big World War II buff in college and I keep an eye on international events, and one thing I can tell you for sure is that non-Japanese Asian people, as a general rule, hate Japanese people.

This isn't exactly an unwarranted hatred. See, the whole Greater East Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere thing that a feisty, WWII-era Japan was pushing didn't quite go over as well with other East Asian nations. Might have had something to do with the bonzai charges. Or the rapes of Nanking. Or the death marchs of Bataan, and what have you. Not trying to dredge up anti-Japanese sentiment by any means, just giving a little back story.

So yeah, that didn't go over well. Nor does it go over well today when Junichiro Koizumi, Japan's awesomely-haired, Segway-riding Prime Minister, visits a shrine devoted to Japan's war dead, where various war criminals are buried.

All of which is to say that where the Dominican Republic's nationalistic support of their team will surely be intense, it will be fun-loving. This won't be the case with the Far East heat, where each team will try desperately to upset Japan and thereby avenge the scars of Japanese militarism. Just as in World War II, however, they won't have much luck without the Americans intervening. Or maybe it's the Dominicans' turn. Who knows?

Side Note II: Just talked it over with B.O.A.F.O.M.G. -- what the hell is Chinese Taipei anyway?)

But yeah, that's not what I'm looking forward to tonight. I'll tell you what I am looking forward to though.

Tonight. Hammerstein Ballroom. Me. A bunch of my buddy Cameron's Med School friends I hardly know. And most importantly, The Strokes.

See, I was never much of a music savant in my youth. While a youthful A.F.O.M.G. couldn't get enough of Tom Petty, his musical interests were by no means broad. Things started to change after Kurt Cobain's death, when I jumped on the Nirvana bandwagon with the kind of zest normally reserved for transplanted North Carolina-natives who all of a sudden become Yankee fans upon moving to NYC post-college.

So I took my cue from Nirvana and never looked back. Some of what I've listened to I'm proud of (Paul Simon, The Killers, Bloc Party), others I'm ashamed of (Dashboard Confessional, 50 Cent, Sum 41), and others I'm just sort of baffled by, not necessarily in a bad way mind you (Dr. Octagon, System of a Down, Team Facelift).

But then there's a group like The Strokes that just does it for me in every possible way. I know a lot of people don't like them. I know a lot of people think they're overrated, all hype, whatever.

For me though, this group just has what I'm looking for. I think the best I can explain it is that their music for me is like pounding five Red Bulls and just letting that shit sink in and electrify you. I just get amped. Simple as that.

So they've got a new album out called First Impressions of Earth. As with all new releases, this one is being accompanied by a tour that will likely highlight the band's newer work, but doubtlessly incorporate older songs as well.

(With that in mind, the songs I'd be devastated if I didn't hear consist of 1. The Modern Age, 2. Someday, 3. Last Night, 4. Hard to Explain, 5. Reptilia, 6. 12:51, 7. Under Control, 8. Redlight, 9. Electricityscape, 10. Ize of the World, 11. You Only Live Once, 12. Juicebox*).

Will it be the life-changing experience I expect it to be? Who knows. Probably not. But I can tell you this much: I will do everything in my power to pass one of the limited edition Yankees 2000 business cards (coming soon to a urinal top near you) off to the guys in the band. They're Mets fans, so they get the official Y2K seal of approval.

Now go read Sip's post. And if you hate The Strokes like I hate the Yankees, feel free to create a website called strokes2001.blogspot.com, but don't expect me to visit it. Just remember to link to us.

I said please don't slow me down, if I'm going tooooo faaaaaaaaaast...

- A.F.O.M.G.

*: Update -- I did pretty well. They played 10 of those 12, with Under Control and Electricityscape failing to make the cut. I should be happy about hearing 10 out of 12, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't severely disappointed by the two they left off. Under Control (which I've learned they played on Saturday) and Electricityscape (which they didn't play either night, though possibly on Wednesday) are two of the Glass' favorites. The former may not be a classic concert song, but Electricityscape is a definite upper so I was surprised by its omission.

All in all, it was a little like the Mets winning 10 of 12, with the two losses coming against the Braves. You're pissed, yes, but in the end you find a way to keep it in perspective.

Meanwhile, that concert fucking rocked. Being a full head taller than seemingly everyone else in the concert hall gave me an excellent view of the performance, although it also made for numerous people asking me if I could move, which got annoying after a while. It's Monday as I write this and I still have a slight pain in my neck from repeatedly nodding my head up and down as if to say "yes, yes, this rocks!" and in my lower stomach from jumping up and down/being out of shape. But all in all, that ballroom was on fire, and what more could I have asked for?

Wheel and Deal's Biggest Slip

Back when the gang was attending JFK Middle school in Indiana, executive producer Peter Engel knew he had something special. He had a bright young star that would carry his franchise for years. He had Zach Morris.

Morris was a can't miss. He had the looks, charm, and charisma that spelled superstar in the world of TNBC.

So what did Engel do? He took care of a then young but fiery Mark Paul Gosselar. While most teen age stars were getting 10 grand per episode, Engel gave MPG 20.

Why you ask? Because he wanted to take care of his star and man did the move work. MPG went onto give Bayside high school 5 great years and then added another phenomenal year of college over at CU.

It's safe to say that the minor pay bump that MPG saw at the beginning of his career was a smart investment for every one.

Why do I bring up the amazing Mark Paul Gosselar? It's not cause I wanted to talk about his amazing performance in the very stellar Dead Man on Campus. Afraid not.

It's because MPG has a major league equal. He happens to be a Met and he happens to be our future.

Yet for some stupid fucking reason, team brass decided to piss the kid off.

Mets.com reported on Thursday that the Mets and David Wright had encountered their first problem, a dispute on what Wright's third year salary would be.

In baseball, in the first three years of a player's career, the team has complete control over what it pays a player.

Last year Wright made $322,500, a tad over the league minimum. He went onto have an amazing season, playing at a near All Star level and emerging as the heart and soul of the Mets.

This year, the Muts decided to pay Wright $374,000. For the first time in his 3 year career, D -Wright was pissed.

While the Mets were acting completely by the book, they really made a mistake. Wright wanted to feel like he was different and derserved different treatment from the typical third year player.

FOR GOOD REASON.

Yet, after 2 offseasons where hundreds of millions of dollars have been thrown at top of the line free agents, the Mets are stupid enough to not throw D Wright a bone.

Imagine if they made a nice gesture and threw D Wright $800,000. Wright would be happy, extremely happy. He would feel like he is the special player that he is and that the Mets want him to feel that way. In the bigger scheme of things, that $500,000 is nothing compared to Wagner's 43 million or Beltran's $119 million.

So why wouldn't the Mets take care of this one? To me it's just bad business any way you slice it.

Protect your investment, guys.

Of course D Wright didn't make a stink. He is a pro and he is all class, just too good a guy to get bent out of shape about this kind of thing publicly. "It's a respectful disagreement," Wright said. "It happens all the time. Am I disappointed? Not at all." Quotes like that are one of the reasons we love the guy, but if he wasn't at least a little disappointed, if he didn't feel just a little bit slighted, he probably would have accepted the Mets' offer.

We know that D Wright will cruise through arbitration and then go on to become the Mets' next $100 million guy. You have to assume that the Mets know this as well.

So if the Wilpons and wheel and deal Minaya know that they are going to sink close to $150 million dollars in this guy over the course of his career, why not take care of him now? I don't think it's going to be a dealbreaker when conversation time comes for a long-term contract, but why even bother playing with fire?

This may piss me off more that most people, but it just seems stupid. In my eyes, how the Mets handle this kid's career could very well determine the next time the Mets win a Series.

And after watching 1986 Mets: A Year to Remember with AFOMG the other day, I fucking need that.

So Wheel and Deal, you shanked on this one.

Have a bad weekend.

To the rest of you out there, have a great weekend.

VCD

SM

USA! USA!! USA???

So today marks the beginning of perhaps the most ambitious international project in the history of organized baseball. No I'm not talking about the start of Los Mets' Spring Training exhibition schedule, I'm talking about something of much greater significance. Today marks the start of the World Baseball Classic, The WBC.

I would give you a moment here to collect your thoughts and let the sheer excitement of the moment subside, but chances are that's not necessary.

Indeed, the WBC sounds great on paper but is nontheless being approaced with a healthy dose of skepticism, much of it earned. International competition featuring the best players from all around the globe playing for their homeland -- what's not to like?

How about pitch counts on pitchers? Or inning limits that threaten the possibility of ties? Or how about the fact that many of the best players in the game are ducking out, some at the last minute, for fear of injury or just a lack of caring.

The event has zero credibility... so far. As WBC-backers acknowledge, the competition will have to make its own luck. If the players play with fire and the games are exciting, we may look back on the coming few weeks and ask ourselves what on earth took baseball so long in the first place. It could go either way.

That all said, let's us fans go into it with an open mind. About everything. Even the team you root for.

See, in every Olympics I would always root for the USA. When the US hockey made their runs (minus this year's Olympics, of which I watched under 20 minutes), I always got really into it.

I became a patriot.

I loved my country and was proud to be American.

But here comes the World Baseball Classic. America is clearly one of the favorites and baseball is my favorite sport. I guess I have to root for the boys in red, white, and blue now, right?

Truth is I just can't.

America's team has become Derek Jeter's team. Or if not Deej's team, Roger Clemens' team.

Is this what our country has become? Is America Derek Jeter or that bat-throwing hick?

If you're one of those any port in the storm types, the silver lining to it all is that at least we're not A-Rod's team. As I've expressed in the past, while I still hate him, I've got at least a little respect DJ, in marked contrast to A-Rod.

So what am I to do? Looking around the rest of the brackets, I come across the tragic fact that there is no Israeli or Irish team in this supposed "world" baseball classic.

I loved my 4 months in Ireland and live somewhat vicariously through Irish people and their awesome culture.

As for the Israelis, I'm always about my Jews, even though 9 times out of 10 I find them very irritating.

So do I root for the murderer's row driving in Jose Reyes on the Dominican lineup? Too easy.

How bout the Santana to K-Rod for the Venezuelans? Still, too easy.

So I am going for the star. There is only one player in this classic playing for a team with no one to hate and who is also a player that I love. I love their people, their food, and it was even my favorite country that I ever visited.

So today, Y2k and Sippy Momo himself is pledging its allegiance in the WBC. They may not be the favorite, but I'm rooting for him and for them.

So Monster, lead those Italians to victory.

You have me behind you, hopefully AFOMG, and all of our loyal readers at Y2k. And if The Rocket buzzes you with a little high heat, be a man about it this time. Nothing would be better for ratings than a little personal grudge match taking on international incident proportions.

Viva la Italia!

SM

Isiah Rudiger?

So last week I introduced Rudy 2.0, aka Lynn McGill on the Fox smash 24, as the anti-Julio Franco.

Unlike Julio, Rudy had gotten worse with age. He went from being a youthful superstar with charisma to a declining superstar asshole who maintains his influence for no other reason than that he was once good.

Fortunately, thanks to Curtis, the official field agent of Y2k, and Section 112, Rudy's time running CTU has come to an end (although that plot line with his cracked-out sister remains open, so chances are we haven't seen the last of Lynn).

So given that last week I compared Rudy with Lynn, I figured it made sense enough to make a real life comparison. It didn't make much thought.

An undersized guy who was great in the 70's, filled with character and a megawatt smile only to be brought back to the greatest franchise in his respective sport and lead it to total failure.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Isiah Thomas.

I never thought I could hate someone as much as I hated Lynn McGill. His awful character made 24 almost not perfect.

But Isiah is Lynn.

Isiah was handed the greatest franchise in sports, despite his many shoddy decisions in the past, i.e. running every franchise he has ever run and the CBA into the ground.

In a similar way, since Rudy, Rudy has chosen bad acting roles (Read: Rudy decided to do those stupid movies wear little midgets look for Rings and fight goblins. For those of you who like those movies, two words for you...Varsity Blues.)

So it's been reported that Knicks brass has summoned Isiah to Texas this week for an important meeting.

Could it be?

Is it finally happening?

Is Jimmy Dolan, the stupidest person to hit the sporting world since Rube from Major League II, finally coming to his senses?

Is Isiah getting Section 112-ed?

Guess we'll have to wait and see.

But truth is, I love what Isiah has done. As I told you last week, I never thought it could be more fun to watch a team lose consistently than the Golden State Warriors.

Every game there are 12 highlight reel dunks, no defense and at least 4 white guys who get steady minutes.

But then came Isiah's Knicks and the Stevie Franchise era.

Since Isiah blew our minds trading for Stevie Franchise, the Knicks have been losing by something like 30 points per game. 30 fucking points per game.

That's 1 point for every 4 million dollars they spend that the Knicks lose by.

They don't have a single player on their entire team who is a better passer than Young Sip and there is no way they have a better rebounder/shot blocker than a gritty and fiery AFOMG.

Man do I love these Knicks though. Maybe I just enjoy losing.

As you all know, I love my Coldplay, and all those dudes do is complain.

So I don't know where I stand. I remember when 112 was just the name of an R&B group that collaborated with Biggie to make amazing hip hop, but now it means so much more.

Will 112 be the # that brings the Knicks back to respectability?

It certainly won't be Isiah's 11.

Or Stephon's 3.

Or Franchise's 1.

Or Eddy's 295...

Can't say I really care.

It's March now which means College basketball time and spring training. Sports are back after a dreadful month of February and I'm a happy Sip.

VCD,

SM