There is a subject I've quite obviously refused to address here for some time now: Manny Ramirez. There are two reasons for that.

One, he doesn't play for the team anymore, and so once I gave him his sendoff back at the beginning of August, it was time to move on. It is unhealthy and unproductive to fixate on a ballplayer who no longer plays for Boston, and my time and energy is much better spent focusing on the guys who actually play for my team.

But, more realistically, the second reason is plain fatigue. I'm sick of listening to bitter windbags piss on him like a criminal, or fanboys revere him like some kind of untouchable saint. He was neither. I'm sick of the incessant need to dissect his every move, every word, every gesture. Sick of the tendency to blow everything he does (or doesn't do) out of proportion. Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I will never be sick of Manny. I will never tire of watching him go bonkers at the plate. I will always adore Manny for who he was and what he meant to this town and this team. But I am not an idiot and so I also recognize that he (like every other human on the planet) is fallible and made his share of mistakes. However, he is gone, so until the day this place is converted to a Dodgers blog (won't happen), I'm not going to feed the beast and fan the flames by engaging in some kind of ongoing dialogue about Manny minutiae.

Unless we play the Dodgers in the World Series. Then all bets are off.

I don't know about the rest of you, but after watching last night's stutter-stop offense and walkoff loss, I'm about ready to bust some heads. And what's better in that frame of mind than more fuel to the fire? Especially Yankees-flavored fuel?

The fuel in question: Jorge Posada is still pissed at Pedro Martinez for the Zimmer Incident. And continues to want to drag it out and talk about it.

"I thought he was going to hit me in the head with a bat after we had the fight and he pushed Don Zimmer," Posada said. "It was ridiculous. I mean, he throws at Karim Garcia because he's losing the game. I mean, there's no class."

Pedro is not going to let that go, and points out that Posada apparently told some kind of seriously insulting Yo Mama joke:

"When I pointed to the head, it wasn't precisely to tell him that I wanted to hit him in the head," Martinez said. "Nah. He's a human being, he has a family, and I'm a professional. [The pointing to the head] was because he cursed my mom. I was telling him, 'I'll remember that.' "

Martinez said Posada should have known better than to insult a fellow Latin's mother.

"He knows - he's Latin, as much as he pretends to be American, he's Latin - that cursing your mom in Latin America will get you into a fight," Martinez said. "That's something I would never do to his mom, because she doesn't play. She's not on the field. She's someone you admire and respect, and I didn't like that."

Fight! Fight! Fight!

The new slate of postseason baseball commercials are hitting the airwaves as we speak. Nothing beats running around Jacobs Field during the ALCS hollering, "There's only one AAAAAAAAAAAACTOOOOOBER" at random passerby. Come to think of it, maybe that's why our reception in Cleveland last year was less than welcoming. (nah- it's just because they're jerks.)

The city of Tampa, faced with the odd circumstance where their baseball team is actually good - and looks poised to take at least a Wild Card slot in the playoffs - is not sure what this means. To help educate the fans (there are Rays fans, right? I kid! Sort of.), the Rays' postseason commercial is a little different than the rest. Rather than fondly remembering playoffs past or showing montages of action set to heartstring-tugging music, the Rays commercial's message is simple:

PLEASE WON'T SOMEBODY, ANYBODY, ACTUALLY SHOW UP AND WATCH US PLAY?

video courtesy of meech

Of course, Rays fans (see! there are some!) offer a whole range of excuses - the temperatures, the economy, the ballpark, the transplants, and so on. But the sad fact is that the Rays- the most exciting story in baseball this year, a team full of young talent and unlimited promise - are only averaging 21,573 fans per game. Only the Royals and A's have suckier attendance in the AL.

I suppose that's all good news for the Red Sox. That means less of those horrendous cowbells clanging away, and more empty seats available to be filled with Red Sox behinds.

Aside from the death-seeking thrills of seeing a game in the Bedpan they call Yankee Stadium, I can't think of anything else to miss about it. It's not like Wrigley or Fenway which have remained essentially intact for 100 years - they already renovated it to shreds decades ago, killing off 99% of the original sentimentality. Monument Park is neato, but that's not going anywhere. It's just being moved right across the street. Why that should make us all misty-eyed, I do not know.

And even though the Red Sox are falling all over themselves in the media to dredge up some emotion about the whole thing, I think Kevin Cash has the right idea:

"It's cool, but we get to play at Fenway every day," said Cash. "It's not like I'll be shedding tears when I won't be able to play at Yankee Stadium anymore. Fenway's better and it's not even close, in my eyes. As a catcher, the ground shakes."

You better shut your mouth, Joba, or you're liable to wind up catching bugs.

Oh wait...

Just because it's fun to think about all seven of the Red Sox taking over a huge chunk of the Yankees' clubhouse...

From the Hartford Courant:

In case you were wondering: Kevin Youkilis is using Johnny Damon's locker.

Manny Ramirez has a corner locker last used by Carl Pavano.

Jonathan Papelbon has Brian Bruney's.

David Ortiz has Brett Gardner's

Dustin Pedroia has Wilson Betamit's

Jason Varitek has Kyle Farnsworth.

No word on where they stuck J.D. Drew. Maybe in the hallway. I would pay good money to see what unholy sorts of treasures Varitek discovered in Farnsy's locker. And please oh please oh please let at least one of the guys have the balls to leave behind some sort of boobytrap in their locker. My money's on Pedroia.

I think Josh Beckett just found himself a new baseball boyfriend.

Chase Utley earns a gold star not only for dropping the f-bomb on live TV on ESPN, but for dropping it on New York fans. In Yankee Stadium.

Thank goodness the ever-crafty Phillies fans jumped on this golden merchandising opportunity.

What. In. The. Sam. Hill. Just. Happened??

That guy? OTHERWORLDLY. As I said in the open thread, the Rangers just picked up thousands of new fans thanks to the fireworks provided by one Mr. Josh Hamilton.

And thanks to Big Papi for being Johnny-on-the-spot with his patented Papi Hugs, because it gives me the perfect excuse to post this photo:

Justin Morneau may have won the Derby in the end, but all anyone's going to remember (and be talking about) is Josh Hamilton's 28 dingers in the first round.

This is the one and only time you'll see most post anything here about all the nonsense, hoopla and gossip flurry surrounding a certain ballplayer these days -- because he does not play for the Red Sox, and the constant news stories about his personal life only make him more famous, and I quite honestly do not give a shit. But this was too funny to pass up...

Toronto, you are awesome.

Any excuse to link to Fire Joe Morgan is a good excuse - and the upcoming series with the Rays is just such an excuse.

Jose Mota loves him some "aggressive", "National League style" baseball.

National League-style baseball: "Wow. So exciting."

I have heard and seen the expression so many times from announcers and in print, referring to a small handful of American League teams that seemingly exploit an opponent's weaknesses in a different manner than the typical A.L. team.

But to me, there isn't a clear distinction between so-called league "styles." The leagues are more alike than the average fan realizes.

Several A.L. teams have adopted the so-called N.L. approach. The Los Angeles Angels and Tampa Bay Rays are at the top of the list.

"It's just downright a more alert way of playing the game from the offensive side: Execution to the max," Rays manager Joe Maddon told me, and I couldn't agree more.

And FJM's response:

Do you think Rays manager Joe Maddon put up an inspirational poster of like Yosemite's Half Dome in the clubhouse with the inspirational phrase "EXECUTION TO THE MAX" written in an inspirational font?

I do.

This. Is. AWESOME.

I'm never going to be able to watch the Rays, or read about the Rays, or see the words "Tampa Bay Rays" in print again without automatically thinking, "EXECUTION TO THE MAX!" This quote should always be said really excitedly, either in a creepy corporate seminar voice - or in a valley girl accent. Either option works equally well.

It may not be Friday the 13th, but we should all beware anyway... of the Curse Of The Astros.

It started less than two weeks ago, when the Yankees faced the Astros in interleague play and ace pitcher Chien-Ming Wang sprained his foot while running the bases. Then, during the Astros interleague matchup yesterday against the Rangers, Texas superstar Josh Hamilton injured his hand when he was hit by a pitch.

The Astros facing off against interleague opponents is producing a spate of minor disasters -- even Houston's own clubhouse isn't immune from the curse.

We can only cross our fingers and beseech the benevolent Jobu that the Curse Of The Astros will be lifted, and Red Sox escape from this weekend's series in Houston unscathed.

There was at least one Boston fan who was disappointed the Celtics beat the Lakers to claim the 2008 NBA Championship... Kevin Millar.

It seems Mr. Millar, late of the Boston Red Sox and currently with the Baltimore Orioles (although obviously he still considers himself part of Boston), made an ill-advised bet with an unnamed member of the Red Sox team on the outcome of the Finals. Unconfirmed reports can't specify whether the Sox player in question was Jason Varitek or Tim Wakefield - but apparently, Kev bet against the Celtics.

And this was the result:

Apparently, not only did he have to bleach his hair blonde (fancy!) -- but he also had to change his at-bat music. To "Ice Ice Baby". Oh, yeah. Behold the majesty...

Bravo, Varitek or Wakefield or whatever Sox player actually made the bet (considering Millar's basketball buddy last week was Big Papi, I'm thinking he might be the culprit). Bravo.

Hat tip to Bromoblog for the inside scoop.

Basketball is an odd-duck sport for me - I don't have a team I live and die by. I'll watch some of the playoffs, but rarely sit and watch a full regular-season game. There's no team I hate- and what's more, there's no players I dislike. Except one.

Asked if he was disappointed in Schilling's comments, [Kobe] Bryant responded, "Go Yankees!" and pumped his fist, drawing laughter from reporters Wednesday.

All I can say is - you deserve each other. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

Earlier this week, it looked as though Red Sox fans were going to be denied the chance to see their beloved Eric Gagne up close and personal when Brewers' manager Ned Yost unceremoniously yanked Gagne from the closer role after he notched a league-leading FIFTH blown save. To Sox fans, this seemed a little crazy. Not because benching Gagne is crazy-- but because after his performance last year, it's kind of like paying $10 million for a broken-down ratty old monkey windup toy... and then getting mad and throwing the monkey away when it couldn't play a tune on its cymbals. It's a broken-down ratty old monkey! Of course it can't play the cymbals well!

Never fear, Sox hecklers -- the dream is still alive: Gagne was restored to his rightful role as the closer/broken-down monkey for the Brewers after just a two day "mental break". I'm not sure what he did during that "mental break" (buy a new pair of weird goggles? say "eh?" and "aboot" a lot? drink some Molson beer? hang out with Mounties?), but I'm all for it if it means we still have a shot at seeing Gagne enter a game this weekend against the Sox at Fenway.

I'm thinking the fans should hurl water bottles at him again, so he feels right at home back in Fenway.

Gagne can't even catch a break on Wikipedia. Commenter 1863_project noticed a section on Gagne's Wiki page (long since removed, of course) criticizing his fashion choices as well. Thanks to 1863 for screencapping it for posterity:

No mention of his heinous goggle glasses and weird hair? Come on now, anonymous Wiki fashion critic -- get on the ball!

Same song, second verse...

Joba Chamberlain was suspended by Major League Baseball last season for throwing at the head of Kevin Youkilis (twice). Now it's Kyle Farnsworth's turn to ride the pine, courtesy of his head-throwing attempt on Manny Ramirez during Thursday's Sox-Yanks game.

In addition to being sweet justice, this also gives me the perfect opportunity to post one of my all-time favorite Professor Farnsworth ass-kicking photos.

From the NY Daily News:

Farnsworth will be suspended three games and fined $2,000 for throwing behind Ramirez's head in the seventh inning Thursday night in the Bronx, a source with knowledge of the situation told the Daily News on Saturday.

"It just slipped," Farnsworth said of the pitch to Ramirez, who had already homered twice in the game. "I was trying to be aggressive and go in on him."

Farnsworth said after Thursday's game that the ball "slipped" out of his hand, but apparently his story didn't fly with the league. The punishment will be officially handed out later today, though the pitcher is almost certain to appeal the suspension, especially with Joba Chamberlain still at home in Nebraska tending to his ailing father.

As a wise man once "said": sorry kyle farnsWORTHLESS not today old chum!!!

Bonus fun: check out the Daily News link for Yankee fan conspiracy theories. MLB is out to get them! The league hates the most famous franchise in its stable! MLB actively seeks to destroy a surefire big bucks moneymaker!

Roger may be embroiled in the biggest scandal to hit baseball since, well, the last steroids scandal - but People for the Ethical Treament of Animals (PETA) has come up with solutions to all that ails him: go vegetarian... and sign with the Phillies.

Dan Shannon, Assistant Director of PETA and avid Red Sox fan, fired off a letter to Clemens yesterday suggesting that he look into switching to an all-vegetarian diet. And in a rather un-PETA-like move (made even more surprising because the author is a Sox fan and the recipient is, well, Clemens), the letter is relatively light-hearted-- and also manages to get in jabs at Ken Griffey Jr. and Cubs fans.

Some excerpts:

On behalf of PETA, I'm writing to offer a suggestion that may help you fend off all the critics that are descending on you like a pack of Cubs fans going after a vendor's last beer. To prove that you don't want any nasty growth-promoting drugs in your body, go vegetarian.

[A] chicken or a pig drugged by the meat industry suffers more injuries than Ken Griffey Jr.

And if you ditch all the cholesterol and saturated fat in meat now, you'll be less likely to keel over from a stroke when testifying in front of Congress.

He's totally thinking about how much he loves veggie burgers

But PETA isn't just concerned about Roger and the steroids issue he finds himself embroiled in- they're also concerned about the future of his career:

And while you are pondering your next career move, may I recommend that if you do play next season, you sign with the Phillies? Citizens Bank Park has the best vegetarian food of any ballpark

I am sure the city of Brotherly Love would welcome Clemens into the Phillies fold with open arms.

Shortly before the fateful 60 Minutes interview last night, Roger Clemens went on the offensive against Brian McNamee's threats to file a lawsuit against Roger... and Clemens filed a lawsuit of his own. Roger is suing McNamee in county civil court for defamation - seeking an unspecified amount of damages- and an affirmative finding by the court that he did not defame McNamee. A 1-2 punch, in other words. Roger's filing alleges that McNamee only implicated Clemens after a federal prosecutor threatened McNamee.

Quoting from the lawsuit:

All of McNamee's accusations are false and defamatory per se. They are not true, and they injured Clemens' reputation and exposed him to public hatred, contempt, ridicule, and financial injury. McNamee made the allegations with actual malice, knowing they were false.

All the lawyers that are reading along are mentally checking off the elements that establish a prima facie case of defamation. False and defamatory statement? Check. Acted with malice and actual knowledge of falsehood? Check. Damage to the plaintiff? Check and check.

Why the delay in filing the lawsuit? Why not file it back in December, when the Mitchell Report was first released? According to the Rocket's lawyer:

"We kept thinking McNamee might change his mind and come to his senses and admit he was lying," Hardin said. But, Hardin said, instead McNamee arranged to talk to Clemens Friday and, rather than getting back to Clemens as promised, their conversation was leaked "with spin" to Newsday.

Roger also says that he plans to testify before Congress on the subject of steroids without asking for immunity or invoking any kind of Fifth Amendment rights to avoid answering questions.

Strap in folks, this is gonna get (more) crazy.

I've made my adoration of Roger Clemens no secret - he and Nolan Ryan are my baseball idols, he and Craig Biggio are the reason I fell in love with baseball, and he's also the primary reason I became a Red Sox fan in the first place. I may have been the only person in the U.S. who adored him because of his giant attitude, not in spite of it. But that's how I like my Texan pitchers- crazy good on the mound, with a hell of a lot of brashness and balls of steel.

In the wake of the Mitchell Report fallout, I have very purposely not written anything about Roger- not here, not at Ladies..., not at Babes Love Baseball. I've avoided addressing the subject in print because I'm utterly confused and conflicted, so I have had no clear perspective or opinion to offer. Losing Roger to retirement was difficult enough- but losing him under the cloud of suspicion that he's now exited with? Leaves me at a loss for words. The possibility that one of my greatest heroes was a fraud, for at least a period, is less like getting the rug pulled out from underneath and more like destroying the entire landscape of what I've known as "baseball". (<-- hyperbole alert!)

After watching Roger on Sixty Minutes tonight, I still can't sort through the mess. I can't decide if his repeated and strident denials cause me to believe him more... or if his weird fixation on Vioxx and dismissal of the validity of a lie detector cause me believe him less. I do know he is bitterly angry, and I am too. I just can't figure out if I'm angry at him, angry at McNamee, angry at the culture of steroids in baseball-- or angry at myself for being naive when it comes to my idols. Probably all of the above.

So this is the open forum/thread for everyone to discuss The Roger Situation (as I think I will now refer to this debacle) -- because even though I'm conflicted, it's still ludicrous not to talk about it. What did you think of the Sixty Minutes interview? Do you believe him now more, or less? And don't be worried if you think he's a big fat liar who got steroids shot in his butt every day since 1997, or if you aren't sure about the steroids thing but still hate his guts anyway- everyone is allowed to post... so long as you don't rip on him for being a Longhorn. Some things are just sacred.

EDIT: seems I'm not the only one conflicted after watching the interview- ESPN's Jerry Crasnick saw the same two Rogers we've been discussing in the comments.

Nooooooooooooooo! Are you telling me the days of Aaron "Bacon Pants" Rowand running around the CBP outfield in blood pinstripes, crashing into walls and making ridiculous diving grabs are over? That he and his "BEER PONG CHAMP" sweatbands are headed to the left coast... to a team that's not even a contender? That one of my top 3 favorite players in all of major league baseball is going to be playing for a team that I could not care less about?

Oh, Bacon Pants. Now who am I supposed to have as my favorite Phillie? I have to go back to having Pat Burrell as my #1 Philly guy. That's just wrong.

As both a Sox fan and a Cubs fan, the Gagne-to-Milwaukee deal and the Hawkins-to-Yankees deal both bring me great joy this holiday season. They're the most awesome white elephant gifts ever - and by "most awesome", I mean "most awful".

Sox fans cringed everytime Eric Gagne took the mound, and I find it hilarious that the Brewers (the Cubs' division rival) are not only going to sign him, but pay him $10 million next year. And Gagne : Red Sox :: Hawkins : Cubs -- I cannot tell you the number of Cubs games I went to and witnessed yet another epic choke-job by LaTroy Hawkins. People that I'd sit next to out in the bleachers would wear Hawkins jerseys as an ironic statement about how much he sucked. At this point, I dislike both guys so much, it's gone beyond all logic and reason- I don't care what their stats are, Gagne and Hawkins will always represent "suck" to me.

Did somebody say they want a blown save? We're here to help!

Maybe these guys will both surprise me and do outstanding with their new clubs. But I doubt it... and it's going to be HIGH COMEDY to watch them try.

Couldn't happen to two nicer ballclubs.

The New York Times has a fascinating, in-depth look at the real estate empire and charities run by Alex Rodriguez. Not surprisingly, for a guy so focused on money, he has a reputation of being stingy (even heartless) and inept. To wit: A-Rod owns 16 apartment complexes around the nation, 6 in the Tampa area- and the Times took a look at one of those, the Newport Riverside apartments in Tampa.

Some residents here tell tales of roaches overtaking kitchen cabinets in a bumper-to-bumper crawl to the corn flakes, of carpets stained in the 1990s and quick-trigger evictions.

"My mom comes here and she ain't no rich person, but she thinks I live in the projects," said Miguel Ruiz as he sat on the second-floor landing of Building 2-A on a recent Sunday afternoon. "She's scared to come over here, for real."

As Ruiz spoke, he pulled a boy named Elijah from a gap in the railing that opened when yet another piece of the banister rattled loose and fell to the ground.

"See, stuff like that, with kids around, it's messed up here," Ruiz said, adding, "Honestly, I was raised in a ghetto and I was brought up a little better than this."

The Times then delves into A-Rod's charitable giving history, and the fascination he has with money- and centering his identity around getting as much as he can. His donations seem to center around very public vanity gifts-- the kind that put his name on baseball fields at the University of Miami, not the kind that put money back into the neediest segments of the community.

Money is A-Rod's identity, engraving his social standing...

Rodriguez has earned nearly $200 million over the past decade, but, according to 990 tax records dating to 1998, he is a cheap tipper to his foundation.

In eight years of available documents, donations averaged $30,000 a year and gifts distributed to the community averaged $13,000 a year. In 2002, A-Rod did not contribute more than $5,500. In 2006, the foundation did not give away more than $5,090 despite a fund-raiser that collected $368,000.

Compared to other athletes making the kind of money he does- even his own teammates, like Derek Jeter, A-Rod comes up more than a bit short:

He isn't on the platinum level of athlete donors. Tiger Woods has seeded his foundation with millions. And he isn't on par with his teammates. Derek Jeter may have his I.R.S. issues, but he has given a total of $2 million to his Turn 2 Foundation since 1998.

It's an interesting read, to say the least.

Hat tip to Yanks Fan/Sox Fan.

The news broke earlier tonight that Roger's pitching days are likely over. I wrote more about this over at Babes Love Baseball, but essentially, Roger told the Astros' front office that he'll be kicking off the first year of his 10 year personal services contract with the team this coming 2008 season.

Yeah, I know- with Clemens, no retirement is safe. But this time, it feels different. It feels pretty certain. I think starting down the consultancy road is turning a big corner for Roger, and it would take something serious to reverse paths and go back to pitching. ("something serious" = Pettite coming back so the both of them can play in Houston?) After this season, with his injury issues, and his performance issues, I think Roger finally saw the writing on the wall: a power pitcher at the age of 45 is just not going to be able to push through the wall anymore. Curt Schilling reinvented himself as more of a finesse-type pitcher; I don't see that at all in the cards for Roger.

So now is the part where I get a tad misty-eyed, which will confound most Red Sox fans who hate him. Because... Roger Clemens is a god to me. I've written before about how growing up as a baseball fan in Texas, I was raised by my father to revere the twin Texas boys Nolan Ryan and Roger Clemens above all else. I was destined to love Roger Clemens, way back before he even played for the Red Sox, because of this:

The burnt orange trumps all- and make no mistake, Roger Clemens is way more burnt orange than he ever was Red Sox red or Yankee blue. He is as big of a Texas Longhorns homer as I am, maybe more-- and that's saying something. Roger pitched for my beloved University of Texas, and not only that, he won us a National Championship. For that, no matter what he has done or will do over the rest of his life, Roger Clemens has my undying devotion. The fact that he's one of the best pitchers to ever play the game just cements him in my pantheon of sports heroes.

So unlike the vast majority of Red Sox fans who first loved Roger Clemens because he was a Red Sox player, I first started to love the Red Sox because Rogers Clemens was on the team. The love I have for the Red Sox today can be directly traced back to 1984-86, when he first started making waves in Boston. If there had been no Roger Clemens, I likely would never have become a Red Sox fan.

And like Craig Biggio, who I also grew up idolizing as a kid in Houston (and who has been the subject of my mushy ramblings on more than one occasion), I've never known baseball without Roger. As long as I can remember, Roger's been on the pitcher's mound, and Craig's been roaming the field. And now I'm waving farewell to both of those guys in the same year. The thought of a new baseball season starting up in the spring without Craig and Roger breaks my heart in a way I don't think I can even fully contemplate yet. How do you turn the page on an entire life watching baseball? Because Roger Clemens and Craig Biggio ARE baseball to me.

In a way, I guess it's almost poetic to close this chapter in my life as a baseball fan this year. This summer was the summer of baseball for me- I left a high-stress, high-workload job, and essentially just traveled around going to baseball games all summer (78, to be precise). I was in Houston the weekend Craig hit his 3,000th- missed getting to see that milestone by one game (!), but I got to sit out at Minute Maid for the four games after that enjoy watching my childhood hero play again. And I was in New York, at Yankee Stadium for my first time ever, to see Roger pitch against Josh Beckett-- passing the torch from my childhood hero to my adult favorite pitcher. I suppose if they have to exit stage right from the game of baseball, there's really no better parting gifts I could have asked for than to be a part of their last hurrahs.

So if this is really it, if we never see Roger pitch again, I have to thank him for this:

Texas wins the Natonal Championship

And for this:

Roger gets 20 K's

And for this:

Roger and Craig celebrate winning the first NL pennant for Houston

And even for this:

Roger Clemens vs. Josh Beckett showdown

I have to thank him for everything- even the Blue Jays years- because without Roger, baseball would not be as sweet for me. He helped me fall in love with the game, and that's a gift of priceless value.

Thanks, Roger.

Even though I saw them play 8 times in spring training and 16 times during the regular season with no disastrous results (the team's winning percentage was close to .700 for the games I attended), after going to the Phils-Rocks games yesterday and today at the CBP in Philly, I have come to realization that I am apparently unlucky and/or toxic to the Phillies' postseason.

Either that, or the Phillies pitching sucks. One of the two.

On the plus side, I do have two Phightin Phils rally towels, a sunburn from the ungodly hot sun beating down for two days straight, my scorecard from today's game (where I made increasingly angry side notations in the margins as the game wore on) and a 3/4 empty bottle of Jameson. And a Yankees loss. A Yankees loss always makes things better.

On a day when I had three painful reasons to hate New York, Pat Burrell gave me two reasons to laugh at New York with his TWO homers today against the Mets en route to Philly's four-game sweep of their divisional rival. Pat's picked up the label "Met Killer" over the past few years thanks to his outstanding ability to shell the Mets pitching staff. Now it's official: with his homeruns today, 41 total, Pat Burrell has hit more homeruns off the Mets than anyone else playing the game.

For beating the tar out of the Metropolitans time and time again, Pat Burrell you are my Baseball Boyfriend of the Day.

The Chut has returned! Chase Utley came roaring back from the DL today, going 3-for-5 -- including a double and a homerun -- in the Phillies 9-2 pounding of NL East foe Mets.

Of course this means that Chase Utley- you are my Baseball Boyfriend Of The Day. How in the world did the Phillies survive without him for a month? "Duct tape and Motrin," says Jimmy Rollins. I'm inclined to agree.

Separated by about 65 miles or so, my two Baseball Boyfriends Of The Day were hard at work making some spectacular plays on the diamond. My first BBOTD is Aaron Rowand, who ran himself ragged in Philadelphia during the second inning against the Padres.

First was a pickoff attempt that necessitated a slide back into first base. Then a seemingly successful steal attempt, which was called back after the home plate ump (absolutely INcorrectly) ruled the batter had foul tipped the pitch. Then another dive back to 1st on another pickoff attempt. And then another pickoff attempt and jump back. Another steal attempt that was foiled when the batter fouled off the pitch. The batter finally gets a clean ball off the bat- only to be caught by the LF which sends Aaron scrambling back to first... but the Padres' first baseman misses the catch and Aaron has to turn right around and run back to 2B. By this time, he's doubled over in exhaustion- and gasping for breath in the humidity. But he's not done yet! Another fly ball, another tag up and sprint and slide- this time for third base. All his work for nothing, as the bats behind him leave him stranded on 3B at the end of the inning- but he ran enough to have scored 2 or 3 times over. And I'm pretty sure by the end of it almost every square inch of his uni was covered in dirt (and torn in at least one place).

That exhausted me just typing it. How about some video to relive the ordeal?

My second Baseball Boyfriend of the Day is Chase Utley- who made his second and final rehab appearance up the road in Reading for the R-Phils. He made a Web Gems-worthy diving catch in the OF (which looked for a moment like it caused him to fall weirdly on that injured wrist... before he hopped up from the ground). He's scheduled to be back in the lineup for the big boy Phillies on Monday... hooray!

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the one-man Web Gem... Aaron "Bacon Pants" Rowand!

After this, you would think he would be loathe to run headlong into outfield walls... but you would be so very wrong about that. He is ALL grinder. So when Dmitri "Da Meat Hook" Young popped a long fly ball to center field in tonight's Phillies-Nationals game at RFK, Aaron didn't hesitate to run straight into the wall in pursuit of the catch (and OF COURSE he made the play). In the words of the MASN broadcast team:

"He keeps going until some foreign object bigger than him makes him stop."

Is there anything he can't do? At this point, I'm thinking no- except for maybe stay in Philly after the season is over. Troubling sign? The Phillies' website shows Aaron in a White Sox ballcap. EEP!

Does the webmaster know something I don't?!?

Monday brought us all one step closer to the return of this beautiful sight:

Chase Utley got the once-over by a hand specialist (which isn't nearly as dirty as it sounds) on Monday, and is scheduled to begin "light tossing and hand exercises" with his injured hand on Tuesday. He's been fielding and shagging balls during BP since last week, but only one-handed; this news means he's now cleared to start using his broken right hand (albeit still in a splint).

When Chase returns, the Phils will be faced with the enviable "problem" of what to do with Tadahito Iguchi- signs seem to be that they'll try him at 3B (and he's taken some practice fielding there already). That would leave Dobbs able to platoon with Werth and Roberson in RF (and LF when Pat makes his normal defensive exit in most games) until Victorino comes off the DL.

The Cubs have put in a waiver claim for White Sox OF Scott Podsednik- he of the Texan drawl and beautiful body, you know, one of the only reasons I like the White Sox to begin with - and reports out of Chicago are that a potential deal is being worked on. Scott could be a great stop gap while Soriano is out on the DL- though I do love Matt Murton.

While it's far from certain that Scotty could be roaming the OF at Wrigley, just hearing the news of the possibility of that is enough to make me a happy girl for the rest of the day.*

* Note to Josh Beckett: you know what would make me an EXTRAORDINARILY happy girl? You getting win #15. Make it happen.

Minor freakout moment last night at Citizens Bank Park, when Chris Roberson came trotting out in the top of the 2nd inning to center field-- and my #1 Baseball Boyfriend Aaron Rowand was nowhere to be found (after he played in the 1st). That's the lone disadvantage of being at a game in the stands, instead of watching it on TV: you have no idea what's going on when guys leave the field. Despite frantic calls and texts from our seats in CF, we couldn't figure out the story.

Turns out, Bacon Pants had blurred vision in his right eye - a problem that had cropped up in BP, and caused him to swing and miss (wildly) at a Chuck James changeup pitch in the 1st.

This development is so very frightening, I don't want to think about it. Instead, I will post cute pictures I took of Bacon and uber hottie Jeff Francoeur last night. Maybe Francs and Bacon can help take my mind off the scary thought of losing yet another Phillie to the DL (and my favorite Phillie, at that).

Yeah, I said it. Getting drenched in a downpour while watching a ballgame is fun. All of y'all at Citizens Bank Park last night who couldn't hack it, and went up underneath the overhang... I laugh at you. That's right- I think you're all weenies. Just pull on a ballcap, get another beer and enjoy getting soaked and watching a bunch of grown men slip and slide around in the slick grass, run through puddles and mud, and try and keep a grip on a wet ball.

Bacon Pants cannot believe people can't stick it out through a little rain.

Seriously- kicking back with a beer, and getting soaking wet in a downpour- with rain dripping big ol' drops off the brim of my ballcap and onto my scorecard (which withstood 3 innings of rain before I officially declared it toast) - the stands emptying of all the lackluster fans, so that I was surrounded only by the craziest Phanatics... that was pretty much heaven.

(Until Brett "Bert Eyebrows" Myers blew the save- but that's another story...)

You hit his teammate (even if said teammate is a punk and a crybaby and a cheater, but whatever), and he's going to pitch your team through six shut-out innings... and then peg your budding superstar in the back. Awesome.

"I just wanted to discuss something with him before I left."

Awesome-r. I love you, Rocket.

After attending a couple of the Cubs-Phillies games at Wrigley in Chicago during the week, two friends and I headed up to Milwaukee for the Phillies-Brewers three-game stand over the weekend. Here are some random observations from Miller Park:

* Chase Utley was out shagging balls in the outfield and fielding balls at 2B during BP on Saturday... one-handed, of course.

* Kyle Lohse threw a bullpen session during pre-game on Sunday.

* Aaron Rowand's extra bacon-y catch on Sunday was payback for Cory "Sunglasses at Night" Hart's HR-robbing catch in RF on Saturday.

* Jose "Table" Mesa got a save! AMAZING! Also, he has really nice calves. Who knew?

* Shane Victorino was out throwing the ball around full-force during BP on Saturday- and didn't appear to be favoring his injured leg at all. He was also Cholly's dugout buddy during the game on Saturday, and stood next to him for most of the game.

* The "Free Tibet" people were also in Milwaukee on Saturday. It seems they invaded several ballparks around the country.

* Who knew that batting Pat Burrell in the 3-hole would be such a success? Pat looked great (for him) at the plate when I saw him in Wrigley, and continued his hot streak when we saw him in Miller.

* Wes Helms was booed every time he came up to bat Friday through Sunday. Loudly.

* If looks could kill, Jayson Werth would be awaiting his murder trial for the look he gave a Brewer fan sitting on top of the Phils' dugout who cussed him out on Saturday.

* Apparently, there are mini-sausages, too - because they joined the regular-sized versions for a Tag-Team Sausage Race on Sunday.

* My random assortment of Phillies bobbleheads I've received as gifts now have a Chris Capuano buddy bobble to hang with.

* Don't let their nice reputation fool you- the Brewers fans were nasty as any fans I've been around (or, let me say, certain of the Brewers fans were). The beer was great, the tailgating was kickass, and the Milwaukee nightlife was fun (Water Street was a blast)- but their fans in the stands were pretty danged rude. Don't actively (and loudly) cheer for RyHo to join Chase on the DL. Don't accuse me of stealing your bobblehead doll. Don't tell my friend that Philly schools don't teach math when it's YOU who doesn't know how many runs scored. Don't tell me to have a fun time on the way back to Philly when (a) I didn't talk to you the whole game, (b) I don't live in Philly, and (c) you're a bandwagon fan who didn't even know the name of your own starting pitcher. And most of all, don't laugh in my face in disbelief that a GIRL knows how to score a game- and then condescendingly ask if I know the difference between backwards and forward K's.

Hello, Kyle. We haven't met before- mostly because you played for the Reds, and I couldn't give a rat's ass about that team. You're not a bad-looking dude, even though you have some unfortunate facial hair choices (but I don't hold that against Aaron Rowand or Josh Beckett, so I'm not gonna hold it against you). There's the whole born-in-Chico thing, but I can get past that (and it's not like you were born in freakin' Arkansas like a certain slowcamotive leftfielder). Your name written out looks kind of like "Loser", which is not good- but pronounced like "Lowsh", which is better.

But here's what's troubling: your 6-12 record and 4.58 ERA scare me, dude. If I can be frank, they kind of make me think you might stink. Like, stink pretty bad. I know you played for Cincinnati, so it's not like you were getting a lot of offensive help-- but 6-12? That's pretty bad.

So I'm going to be in the bleachers at Wrigley Field today for your debut for Philly - it's a day game, and is going to be approximately 1,000 degrees out, and I will have been drinking for 2 hours beforehand, so I'm not sure I'll be the most coherent fan around... but I will be there. All I ask is that you don't completely suck. We bounced Coolerpants Durbin to add you to the starting five, and I'd just like you to do better than he did. Plus, it's not like the Phillies pitching staff is full of aces (minus Cole) that are hard to live up to... you just have to do kind of good. That's all I ask.

Deal?

A nice old-fashioned game of tag ended in TRAGEDY, when baseball boyfriend Aaron Rowand injured his left shoulder (it was either a "strain" or a "tweak", depending on the news source). With Chutley out of the lineup thanks to a broken hand (courtesy of Enemy No. 1 John Lannan), the last thing Cholly needed was a gang of wild children terrorizing his all-star centerfielder into a freak injury.

Beware, folks- that innocent-looking child trying to taunt you into a game of tag may be an undercover operative from a rival team (I'm looking at you, METS) trying to put you on the DL.

Seriously?!?!?
No, really- SERIOUSLY? So much for that tight pennant race.

STUPID ROOKIE PITCHER.

What's better than a commercial featuring David Wright in deliveryman's uniform? A commercial featuring DWright and several FDNY firemen. The face of the Mets was out on the streets of NYC yesterday filming the newest Vitamin Water commercial- and lookin' fine (nice pants! and love that jaunty "david" nameplate on the shirt).

He makes a deliveryman's uni hot, y'all. This is a skill that cannot be overestimated.

All credit to Gothamist for the photo - and to Metsgrrl for the tip.

The Phillies are lucky enough to be playing in San Diego this weekend during all the festivities honoring Tony Gwynn- who is getting inducted into Cooperstown next weekend. Gaslamp Ball has a great first-hand account of the Gwynn statue unveiling from last night -- but right before that, the Padres played a cool tribute video to Tony on the jumbotron in Petco Park.

I applaud the Padres' musical selection on this one - and had to share.

Tony is one of the greatest ballplayers to play the game in my lifetime (and he has been in the broadcast booth for the whole Phillies-Padres series, which is priceless)- and he's a class act to boot.