Well, as I was driving from the former seat of all NHL power, Montreal, through the free and independent states of Vermont, New Hampshire, and Massachusetts today, it struck me what an odd thing royalty is.

Royalty, in modern times, is something that is perpetuated by those who didn’t actually make those great conquering achievements and establish their reigns, but rather those who find themselves, because of a certain location in history and an accident of birth to be in a position to (air quotes) “carry on a tradition.”

Yet those (air quotes) “royals” sit there on their giant thrones and primp in their hand mirrors and try to dictate morality according to them, about how you can dive, or how you should play, or how you shouldn’t run a player into the center glass, and the rest of us, those poor, filthy masses, are just supposed to take it.

Well, a couple of hundred years ago a bunch of rowdy radicals charged out of the Boston bars, went down to the dock, and dumped the king’s tea into the salty sea.  And in doing that, it struck a chord that rings true even today.  That when confronted with imperious conceit, fighing the good fight is not only the right thing to do, it can be a heck of a lot of fun.  And who has more fun than us?  For Andy Brickley (sp?), Nako Funayama (sp?), and our NESN production crew, I’m Jack Edwards at TD Garden in Boston…

Is this an indictment of Montreal players or fans?  Or both?  Or the royal wedding?  Did Mr. Edwards track down a thesaurus over the commercial break to come up with “imperious conceit?” My questions continue, but I look forward to anyone else chiming in…

How are ya darlin'? Will Miss Cleo be the next "physicist" on the Dodgers' payroll? Call 'meh noowww to find ooout.

McCarver: Well along the comical lines, the Dodgers did have enough money to hire a physicist who was hired to send positive energy waves to the Dodgers, his name was Vladimir Shpunt.  He was a Russian physicist.  I mean, to my knowledge, no major league team has ever hired anybody along those lines.

Buck: And Vladimir is considered one of the top three Russian physicist healers who specializes in beaming positive energy from his home in Massachussettes to a team in Major League Baseball.

McCarver: And the funny thing, he’s only been to Dodger Stadium one time, the other games he watches on television.

Buck: But did anybody know he was there?

McCarver: Well he could be sending positive energy waves right now as we speak on our telecast!

Buck: Which brings up a good point, if youre willing to hire him once for the positive energy vibes, shouldn’t that be like a lifetime deal?  Do you ever want to say “Hey this isn’t working out Vladimir, we can’t afford to bring you back” and now youre dealing with a Russian physicist healer who’s thinking negative energy vibes?

McCarver: That’s right he could…you’d see the flip side of it with the negative energy vibes, that’s right. Haven’t thought of it like that.

Buck: I don’t think you want to play with something like that.

McCarver: No you’d have to keep him on the payroll forever.

Buck: No truth to the rumor that he could make Tommy Lasorda levitate…from his home in new England.
[Adrian Beltre single]

Buck: Vladimir Shpunt was part of the Dodger payroll from 2004 – 2008.

*I should note that neither McCarver nor Buck were taking the story seriously, and they were having a laugh about it.  However, the story makes more sense to me if you substitute “psychic” for “physicist,” as the existence of “positive energy waves” was not covered in any physics course that I’ve ever taken.  Don’t know if Mr. Shpunt actually bills himself as a physicist, or if McCarver and Buck were just a bit confused over the reality of physics.

Tim McCarver’s instant reaction:

And we’ll never know the answer to this, but you have to ask yourself the question: was that the most satisfying home run he ever hit?  Maybe…

And McCarver just doesn’t quit…while I was typing this post, David Ortiz took a strike on a very slow curveball, leading to the following exchange:

Joe Buck: Ortiz trying not to smile after this lollipop dropped in for strike one.
Tim McCarver: Reminded me of that song, “Lollipop, lollipop…Oh lolli-lollipop…From the late ’50s.
JB: Here’s a 2-1 pitch grounded foul outside of first.
TM: Don’t ask me the group who sang it but…(trails off)*

* From Wikipedia:”Lollipop” is a pop song written by Julius Dixson and Beverly Ross in 1958 for the duo Ronald and Ruby, which was covered most successfully by The Chordettes.

Wrong.  The article is amazing, in an absurd, mind-boggling kind of way.  I’ve posted some highlights below:

It’s been an amazing ride for Phillies fans over the last few years, but not for Mike Cybularz. He got off a few stops back when the road was still bumpy and marked with potholes, and the final destination – a championship and a long-overdue parade – was still off in the distance….The 28-year-old East Norriton native grew up backing all the Philly teams, but he was most smitten with the Phils. His dad took him and his two little brothers to games when they were kids. He remembers watching a lot of bad baseball at the Vet, but he was young and confident his favorite team would become a winner, or at least a contender.

At this point the story sounds like it could be about the childhoods of about 20 different fan bases.  But don’t worry, the table is just being set.

In 2004, when he was older and had some money in his pocket, Cybularz and friends bought partial season tickets for the Phils…During the ’04 campaign, as the Phils fought to find their form, Cybularz vowed that if the Fightin’s didn’t make the postseason, he’d be done with the team forever since that would mark a decade of waiting for the club to make the playoffs.

The Phillies finished 86 – 76 in 2004.  No playoffs.  No more Phillies for Mike.  Oh, and guess what?  if my dinner isn’t ready in the next five minutes, I vow to never eat dinner again.

…Cybularz hasn’t supported the Fightin’s since. Not when the Phils went on an improbable run to steal the NL East from the Mets in ’07. Not when they did it again in ’08 and then tore through the National League and the Tampa Bay Rays to secure the city’s first championship in 25 frustrating years. Not when the Fightin’s caravanned down Broad Street and Cybularz’s loved ones left him behind and joined countless other Phillies fans in celebrating the long-awaited title.”I would have loved to go to the parade,” he said, “but I didn’t – to prove a point.”

I love this.  Mr. Gonzales’s only failing in writing this article was his failure to ask the follow-up question, “What, exactly, is that point?”  This story reminds me of a kid I knew in elementary school.  In order to convince his mother to buy him a new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt, he promised that he would “like the ninja turtles FOREVER!!!!”  If he had the resolve of Mike Cybularz, he would still be wearing that shirt.  Totally tubular.

…his brother Kevin [asked] Mike to be his best man and organize a bachelor party involving a Phillies game, followed by a trip to Atlantic City for the entire crew…Instead of seeing the Phillies and then heading to A.C., Mike planned a different getaway to an even less-exciting city.

“We’re going to Baltimore,” Mike said, “to watch the Orioles play the Indians. What a terrible game.”

I think this is where we cross over from “personality quirk” to “mental disorder.”

Kudos, Mr. Gonzales, on a job well done.

(Highlight of a guy on the Saints getting tackled)
“…and David Thomas english-muffins his way to the four yard line!!!”

Gotta love any time a breakfast item is used as a verb to describe a football player getting tackled.

Anyway, I’ve only posted once about the ongoing steroids saga, providing links to what I consider the best available reflections on the steroids era. Nerdicus Finch has also posted once. Basically, for good or bad, I believe that I’m beyond shock in terms of “who did” and “who didn’t.” And after the congressional hearings, only the most hard-core and/or delusional Big Mac fans could have still been shocked by today’s statement. If I had a vote for the Hall-of-Fame, I would have voted for McGwire, as well as the other “no brainers” like Clemens, Bonds (when they become eligible), et al.

So I was interested in what Mr. McGwire had to say, but while reading his statement, one segment stuck out:

“I wish I had never touched steroids. It was foolish and it was a mistake. I truly apologize. Looking back, I wish I had never played during the steroid era.”

Mr. McGwire went on to state that he took these drugs for health reasons–that he believed they were helping him prevent and return from injury. He seemed to suggest that no steroids could help him hit more home runs, that home run hitting comes from genetics. Lets throw out the analysis of the steroid era statistics as a whole and take these claims at face value. If this is true, why would Mr. McGwire wish that he hadn’t played when he did? He made more money than he would have in any other era. If the steroids helped him heal, and nothing else, then he hit more home runs just by staying on the field than he would have in any other era. And while it doesn’t make it cheating right, a LOT of other people were doing it.

Mr. McGwire may be sincerely sorry. Like Tony LaRussa said, “the one thing he did not do is lie,” so he’s got that going for him. Which is nice. But I find myself agreeing with Rob Neyer’s excellent post from this afternoon:

I just wish that players like McGwire didn’t feel compelled to apologize, when we know that many of them would do exactly the same thing again, if they were in the same position. Most of them — and I don’t mean this as an insult — are sorry about getting caught, but not sorry about doing what they had to do (or thought they had to do) to get healthy or gain a competitive edge.

As THE major story of about fifteen years of baseball, the steroid era needs to be mentioned in the Hall of Fame. Maybe it puts some records out of reach…but hitters were on steroids. Pitchers were on steroids. Was your favorite player on steroids? Chances are probably the same as rolling a die… By condemning only the players who have been caught or admitted it, we give countless others a free pass. The only players who should be saying, “Looking back, I wish I had never played during the steroid era” are the ones who remained clean.

I’ve said it before, and Bill Parcells said it before me, but sometimes you are what you are.

The steroids era is what it is.

What do other nerd card appreciators think?

Yes: Bert Blyleven, Tim Raines, Roberto Alomar, Barry Larkin, Mark McGwire, Alan Trammell, Edgar Martinez

Close, but no: Fred McGriff, Dale Murphy, Andre Dawson, Lee Smith

Not as close as you’d think: Jack Morris, Don Mattingly, Dave Parker

Closer than you’d think: Ellis Burks, Andres Galarraga

In the column, which discusses the recent trade of Halladay to the Phillies, Stark had this to say about the former Cy Young winner:

He has been, unquestionably, the best starting pitcher in baseball for the last eight seasons.

I don’t necessarily disagree with Stark about Halladay, but to say that he’s been “unquestionably” the best is grossly overstating the case. When I read this, the first name I thought of was Johan Santana. Here are their numbers from 2002-2009:

Halladay: 130-59, 3.13 ERA, 1260 K, 1710 IP, 1.131 WHIP, 4.10 K/BB, 144 ERA+

Santana: 119-57, 2.89 ERA, 1641 K, 1580 IP, 1.064 WHIP, 4.07 K/BB, 153 ERA+

At first glance, it looks like Santana’s been the better pitcher, although it’s very close and Halladay’s extra 130 innings may be enough to put him ahead. Either way, I think it’s pretty obvious that Halladay is not “unquestionably” the best starting pitcher* of the last eight years.

*It may be possible that Stark is getting cute here, since Santana spent parts of the 2002 and 2003 seasons in the bullpen.

If you haven’t seen what is possibly the worst blown call on the world’s biggest possible stage, you can check it out below.

This morning, I decided to check out an Irish sports page to see how the sports media there handled this craziness. Either European soccer writers are just plain better than most baseball writers, or I lucked into one of the most amazing pieces of sports writing that I’ve read this year.

Thierry the thief steals our dream by Vincent Hogan

I saw this title, and thought I was maybe stumbling into the Shaughnessy of soccer…not the case. Here’s the first paragraph of the article:

Under a starless sky, death by a single cut then. The end had a larcenous feel. A goal in extra-time that should never have stood. A French captain, literally, with guilt on his hands. ‘La Marseillaise’ being sung by empty voices.

Hogan later refers to the French crowd as “obstreperous.” The whole article is definitely a must read. It’s linked here. But if you need some more convincing, here’s another highlight:

When pride abates, the defeat will untap a torrent of familiar sounds. Odes to Andy Reid; homilies to Lee Carsley; dissertations on the blind spots of Trap. The usual pieties. But what were we watching here in this mesmeric saucer on the tip of Paris?

We were watching a refined, technical team eventually outsmart an utterly heroic one. A fulfillment of the natural order.

‘Que Sera Sera’ sang the Irish fans as extra-time commenced. They understood there could be no recrimination now. Just pride and salty tears.

I have no idea who Reid or Carsley are, but baseball writers, you’re on notice. Any way we can get this guy to cover the Mets? He sure knows how to cover painful losses.

The key quote from the New York Times, in which Greinke discusses the ultra-nerdy Fielding Independent Pitching (FIP):

“That’s pretty much how I pitch, to try to keep my FIP as low as possible,” Greinke said.”

Awesome.