**Award Winning Blog ** Spring Blues

Regardless of what the brewmeisters in Golden, Colorado like to say, it is my father who has had the greatest impact on my life. Love of Mountain Dew, Italian food, Republican candidates, the God-awful Browns and excessive body hair may as well be genetic impositions. The one thing he will never be able to pass down to me, and ultimately never will, is his baseball. He grew up with hit and runs, catchers calling pitches, and 312-foot home runs. I grew up with 70-homerun seasons, 103 MPH gas, and nine-inning games lasting close to five hours. I have never seen Bob Gibson or Don Drysdale steal not only a hitter’s at bat, but his dignity as well. I have seen Alex Rodriguez slap a ball out of Bronson Arroyo’s glove and a routine single up the middle go under Andruw Jones’ glove for an inside the park homerun. The moments in baseball that have defined my childhood are as follows:

1997 Pennant Race and World Series
Big Mac & Slammin’ Sammy
The Empire vs The Nation
Game Over Gagne

Money is the root of all evil, or in the case of 1997, the root of all World Series appearances. The upstart Marlins bought themselves a veteran outfield, third baseman, second baseman and pitching staff. Homegrown contributions included: Edgar Renteria, Charles Johnson, Jeff Conine, and the tobacco in Jim Leyland’s cigarettes. Wealthy owner purchasing a roster to win a World Series and the impending fire sale became somewhat of a blueprint to success in a sport with minimal revenue sharing and no salary caps. In fact, just for kicks the Fish did it again six years later. The Diamondbacks gave it a shot in 2001, and sure enough they came away with a championship, turning out the lights on the remaining evidence of true home grown success. R.I.P. 1996-2001 Yankees. It was only a matter of time before an owner realized that if the franchise can make money while outspending other teams, there is no limit to how successful a franchise can be. It wasn’t an owner that realized this, rather two ownership groups 100 miles apart. The result:

The Empire versus The Nation ushered in the new decade of baseball magnificently. It meshed the three most basic and pure attributes of baseball seamlessly: incomprehensible amounts of artificial testosterone, ungodly spending on players, and media love-fests that would make Nicholas Sparks blush. Never had two teams been so deep 1-25. There wasn’t a single player on the Red Sox or Yankees bench that wouldn’t have started elsewhere (even you Doug Mirabelli).  Manny, Papi, A-Rod, Sheffield, Jason Giambi, Andy Pettite, Roger Clemens... all verified users. Tony Clark, Kevin Millar, Bill Mueller, Jason Varitek and countless others had “career years” at the peak of the rivalry. The 70’s Sox/Yanks teams threw at each other, spat on each other, and cleared the benches because they hated each other’s guts. The 00’s Sox/Yanks threw at each other and beat up other teams’ coaches because of the HGH and Andro coursing through their veins. This wasn’t my father’s baseball rivalry. It was a chemically engineered bidding war, my rivalry. Player development becomes irrelevant when the spending bank is bottomless and snatching up players from other organizations with MLB experience is not only possible, but likely and efficient (i.e. Orlando Cabrera). The worst part about all of this? It was FANTASTIC. Never in my lifetime has baseball been more dramatic and mainstream. Baseball ruled the sports world. Every game was four hours and 45 minutes and the country didn’t miss a pitch of it. If the game wasn’t on Fox it was on ESPN, and if it wasn’t on either, people were in Red Sox or Yankee bars across the country watching it on YES or NESN with their fellow Empire or Nation comrades. ESPN has assigned specific beat writers to follow the teams and give national updates DAILY. We as baseball fans were force-fed the Greatest Rivalry in Sports for the better part of the decade. It is what we know, and what my people cherish.

These two topics can be glanced over quickly and brushed aside. Clearly the only image that the three names “McGwire, Sosa, Gagne” conjure up is of roided success and the demise of great heroes. After capturing cities and nations alike, these frauds were shown for what they really were. It’s not that the rest of the baseball world isn’t just as guilty, it’s that boys just like me in LA, St. Louis and Chicago put their hopes and dreams into someday being like their heroes; and I know firsthand how depressing it is to watch your hero come tumbling back down to earth in a Mitchell Report-assisted free fall. Forget 100 MPH fastballs. I’ll take a 170-pound closer with a decent breaking ball and no intro music, as long as you can count on him for more than 2 seasons. 

I bring up my tainted childhood because I am worried. I am worried that I will never get to see baseball the way my dad does. It drives me insane that players don’t steal home, squeeze in runs, or run out ground balls. The one thing I never got from my father is his memories of what baseball used to be. His memory list includes events like Pete Rose ending Ray Fosse’s career in an All-Star game because Pete never took a play off. He played the game like his nuts were on fire, who does that now? The Indians sucked for like 35 years in a row, so he loved watching other players like Brooks Robinson. Is there anyone in the game like Brooks Robinson today? No, because a .267 career at 3rd base gets you a one-way ticket to the Carolina League (Mark Reynolds take note). Players are different, they are millionaires in night clubs and beasts in the weight room. No longer is anyone a magician with the glove or an artist painting the black.

It’s not just that I will never get to see Bob Gibson drill fat, southern, white guys after the bigot spouted off. It’s that where the game is going is even farther from where it ought to be. Replay, sabermetrics, fantasy baseball... soon enough umpires will be obsolete. Batting average and RBI will be meaningless, and people will tell us how Mickey Mantle actually cost the Yankees the ’64 World Series because his VORP and OPS weren't as good as Lou Brock’s. Mickey Mantle never cost nobody nothing, he’s as good as they get no matter what your laptop says. Not only will players be chemically engineered physically, but mentally as well. Statistics will tell a player to swing or not, to steal a base, what pitch to throw. Every swing will be nothing more than data, and unless the fan knows what this data means, he will be deemed the village idiot. “Of course signing Mike Cameron will make the Red Sox better, look at his VORP you fool!!” Really? Mike Cameron is a career .250 hitter. You can keep your VORP. 

I hope that we as fans can remember how to use the ‘eye test.’ It does matter how a guy looks in his uniform and how he carries himself to the plate. It does matter how smoothly he glides in the outfield and how quickly he picks up the ball out of the pitcher’s hand. These are things that used to matter before baseball was a Broadway show, before it was a science project, and now before it was a stats project. It was a game with tobacco, bunts, bean balls, and defense. Money was a perk of playing baseball, not the other way around. It was my dad’s game, and I hope someday it can be our game.

Canada, You Suck

1. The United States has officially slapped every other north american country in the face with THEIR own sports; both times as underdogs. We are the greatest nation in the history of nations. I can promise the Romans or Nazis or Greeks couldn't have gone into Vancouver last night and beaten Canada 5-3.

2. We should make a political stand on this matter. Let's rename the continent. I am sick of North America. How bout the United States of America as the continent? Similar to the continent of Australia, but New Zealand is also there. Just because we let the other two entities exist doesn't mean they deserve global recognition.

3. The fact that the US cares about hockey all of a sudden is downright hilarious. ESPN, the rights holders to the WNBA, Drag Racing, and freaking Bowling couldn't see the NHL as a reasonable investment, so the NHL is now on pay cable. Now ESPN is playing nothing but hockey analysis, and the nation is now in an uproar that the game was on MSNBC. A Hockey, Preliminary round NHL All-Star game is causing an uproar. WTF.

4. The implications of this are magnificent. I can see this patriotic love for sports we don't care about absolutely revolutionizing the World Cup. Let's say we beat England on opening saturday... or at least score a goal. Then win the next two. All of a sudden everyone is walking around in Uncle Sam Hats, carrying flags around their necks, and every student will have joined a "Josey for President" facebook group. Then we will get screwed out of a penalty late in the match down 2-1 to argentina in the first knock out round, and 270 million fans who hardly know the rules will lose their minds, claiming injustice!! fraud!! match fixing!! The result? video replay in soccer. This will break the heart of every European football fan, as the United States will ultimately change soccer forever because they were screwed in a game they should have lost anyway. This anti-US sentiment will resinate in not only sports, but politics and international relations as well. Pretty soon the U.S. of A and China are at war, we go to the E.U. hat in hand begging for help (because China has now aligned itself with nuclear nations Iran and Pakistan, as well as that little Asian man from North Something). The E.U says nah, your own your own, football ruiners. And before you know it we're all %$^ed.

Thanks Canada, all you had to do was win a freaking hockey game. You suck.

Real Home Court Advantage

Kenyon Martin’s mother was recently ambushed by Dallas fans and made very uncomfortable at game 4 of the second round of the NBA playoffs. So was Carmelo Anthony’s fiancé. ‘F’ bombs were dropped in front of children. America was appalled, but I say it’s about time. Your team is down 3-0, you’re getting beat inside like ya stole something, and you’re getting hammered by terrible officiating. Hope has to come from somewhere, as we have seen before in sports. Dave Roberts stealing Mo’s lunch was all the Red Sox needed. The Mav’s needed their Dave Robert’s moment. Then Dirk got hot, then hotter, and before too long Dirk had taken over the game and Denver was on their collective heels. Where was K-Mart? He was watching his mother get harassed by rabid fans and couldn’t concentrate on either end of the court. What effect this had on Dirk taking over the game is difficult to quantify, but any slight advantage is a good one. For this, I say kudos Dallas. You have officially evolved.
An NBA arena, like most sporting venues, can impact the game being played. But as the game’s get more important, and the playoff ticket prices go up and up, there are more Jack’s and Spike’s at the games than the Jose’s and Uncle Vinny’s. Jose and Uncle Vin are the ones who will make noise on a big defensive stand, count down the shot clock at the top of their lungs, and do the necessary internet research to find out why Dwight Howard’s 8th grade girlfriend dumped him at the Winter Dance. More than anything they bring passion. Vinny and Jose feel every possession, and could care less what they look like as they paint a purple ‘L’ on their chest. They are there to see, not be seen. The more passion found in the stands… the better. You want to watch a game in a comfortable, safe environment Mrs. Martin? Great! We’ll see you at the Pepsi Center. Or you could sit yourself right there on that couch K-Mart bought you. Because in Dallas, the fans are there to win, and help their team win by any means necessary. I do not care if your child is offended. Leave him at home. Maybe hearing an “F – You Melo” chant will burn the game into his memory forever, making him a lifelong supporter. Do you have to use the “F” word to be a passionate fan? Definitely not. Do I feel all chants need to use profanity? By no means. Just recently, one of my favorite Italian football teams was reprimanded for using such racists profanity against a rival’s striker, they were forced to play the following home game behind closed doors. The fans were being punished for being TOO passionate and hating Internazionale Milano FC TOO MUCH. I dream of the day in which Americans hate their rival too much on a major level. I can count the major rivalries in American sports, both college and pro, on one hand. Game 4 at Dallas was a start. It’s about time a city says “Our backs are against the wall, this is our LAST chance to watch our boys play, and we will do WHATEVER it takes to get them to game 5.” And as I watch Game 5 right now, I have the city of Dallas to thank. Thank you Dallas, for hating Denver so much you affected the outcome; a REAL home court advantage.

You Got Mel?

It doesn’t take very long for a team to know its destiny in a particular season. Often by the end of September or mid October all hope can be abandoned for a Super Bowl parade in 10 cities. From that point on, life is a little less interesting as the beatings become almost routine. Once Thanksgiving rolls around, getting up on Game Day and throwing on the jersey, drinking before noon, and eating garbage loses its luster. You no longer talk trash to friends, there are no words to say. One finds himself throwing away paychecks on Caribbean online betting sites just so there is some reason to watch the games Sunday. But we (fans of the bottom feeders) have something to hold on to. Being a fan of a bad team has its own reward, the Draft in April. It’s the LIONS getting all the headlines on NFL Live, and the Browns making news concerning their top 10 picks. No one mentions Dallas, New England, or Pittsburgh; they are an afterthought. We fans of the low level franchises end up checking the Todd McShay Mock Draft Versions 1.0 – 6.0, and if we are privileged enough we will get to see what Mel Kiper has to say in his Blue Book, or ESPN Insider Mock Draft.
Yes, that is correct. Mel Kiper published a book annually detailing what each player who will be drafted has to offer; a complete, in depth analysis of these athletes that borders obsession. He is on ESPN nightly from Super Bowl Sunday to Draft Day, and then never heard of again. He has three months of fame, and 9 months of research. And all for what? MY entertainment. The NFL scouts do not need a member of the media’s assistance in their draft preparation. An NFL franchise knows its own strengths and weaknesses, as well as their opponents. They are at the combines, they are at the private workouts, they hold sit downs, they do research, they even create false Facebook accounts to trick potential draftees into revealing potentially harmful information about themselves. Is there even the slightest chance John Fox and Mike Tomlin are texting each other about the latest Mock Draft on espn.com? NO. Secondly, Mel Kiper has no critics, no contemporaries, and most importantly no competition. Therefore, there is no way to tell whether Mel is doing his job well at all. No one compares the real draft to Mel’s draft. ESPN doesn’t care whether or not Mel goes 32 for 32, only that we watch. I can tell you one thing, I am sick of watching. You are wasting my time Mel, and your expertise is being called into question. I can tell you the Lions need a quarterback, the Browns could use defensive help, and the Bengals most likely will not select a player with legal issues. I watch the college game, and can tell you who the top 32 players are, particularly after seeing combine numbers. Does this make me an expert? No, and it doesn’t make you one either.
Today, as I listened to Fox Sports Radio for my draft coverage, I was introduced to Mel’s counterpart: a man by the name of Jay Glazer. Glazer works for FSN as their hybrid version of John Clayton and Mel Kiper, the man who breaks news AND can analyze the draft. Glazer was on the radio with a panel of three or four other FSR regulars to break each selection is it occurred. It was almost comical the connections Jay Glazer had to executives of almost every NFL team. He broke the Jets Browns trade several minutes before ESPN did. He reported that a 49ers exec had told him that San Fran would take Michael Crabtree at ten overall while the Oakland Raiders were still on the clock, two picks ahead. I sat there thinking to myself THIS is what the media guru of the NFL draft should be doing. He was getting the information strait from the horse’s mouth, and he was not wrong. Glazer does not publish a book, and does not pretend to be a scout. He in turn reports what the scouts are saying and builds relationships that result in breaking news. All I know is top level NFL executives are texting Glazer while they are on the clock, not Mel.
Give me Jay Glazer, his text message inbox, and all the information he is able to report over Mel’s blue book any day. If you were that good Mel, you would be an NFL scout. You most definitely are not, so instead, work on being a reporter, because Jay Glazer is taking you behind the wood shed.

The Best Tournament In Sports?

Something struck me Monday night, struck me like Sean Avery at the Geisha House when I showed up with Cuthbert to grab some drinks. This fist of knowledge was nothing more than a light bulb being turned on. I sat through the entire National Championship game, every minute of it. My friend Matt was basking in the glory of a 2nd National Title in 4 years, and wearing my stolen UNC shirt in the process. You would think I would be excited over the biggest game in College Basketball, the culmination of the greatest tournament in sports. I enjoyed 6 minutes.
But come on, it’s the Greatest Tournament in Sports, isn’t it? Well… not really. Known for its buzzer beaters, upsets, and epic battles that transcend into the NBA for decades, I would say the last few tournaments are 0 for 3. Buzzer beaters are magical, and Scottie Reynolds certainly had me out of my seat. But out of 64 games, the Reynolds layup and a VCU near upset were the only games that I even raised an eyebrow at. Sure the Western Kentucky Gonzaga match up was epic, but only if you live in Spokane or Western Kentucky. I’m sorry but the drama was not there. The reason for this is that most teams in the tournament just are not that competitive, and have no business being in the national championship picture. Was U of A one of the top 16 teams in the country? Nope. That is why they got ran out of the building by the 'Ville; a game in which the verdict was extremely apparent early on and I watched a total of 3 minutes. Nothing great about that. Last year all four number 1 seeds were in the final four, this year all 1 through 3 seeds made the sweet sixteen. The National Champion Tar Heals did not play a competitive game all tournament long. If one selected every favorite in his bracket, he would have been in the 98th percentile nationally on ESPN.com. This does not say much to the entertainment value of the Tourney, and certainly is not Madness.
Thirdly, the Ewing / Morning battles of the 80’s are long gone. The best players in college are one and done. Rose, Oden, Durant, Mayo. All household names for the month of March, and that’s that. The one and dones have changed basketball forever, stealing rivalries and replacing them with recruiting violations. I have no emotional connection to Blake Griffin, even after two years. But if next year he were to lead an undefeated OU team into Austin against D.J. Augustine and Kevin Durant, no one would miss a tick.
Because the magic, the Madness of March, has slipped away, I propose we rethink what we call the Greatest Tournament in Sports. Because if what you want is drama, controversy, competitiveness, passion, a connection to players, upsets, rivalries, and entertainment, than the tournament you want takes place between September and the first week in January. It’s called the College Football Season. The Madness in Corvallis, at the Texas State Fair, in the Georgia Dome, and in Lubbock all makes the NCAA Tournament resemble High School Badminton. Michael Crabtree’s catch still gives me chills. Everyone remembers where they were when they got the text that USC had lost. Everyone knows every word to Tim Tebow’s prophecy, and remembers thinking that it was coming true when he led his troops in the 4th Quarter against #1 Alabama. Drama? We got your drama. I give you Tyrrell Pryor, after giving the bird to the rest of the Big Ten, with the ball in his hands, down 7, with minutes to go against undefeated Penn State. I give you Jordan Shipley and Colt McCoy, two best friends from a town of 400 in West Texas single handedly winning the Red River Shoot Out. Texas? Florida? SC? Oklahoma? Who belongs in New Orleans? I know you have an opinion, and I have an opinion, and we can both be right. Now that is Madness. Mind you it is only ONE SEASON. ONE SEASON brought us all this magic. What did the NCAA Tourney give us? That’s right… Scottie Reynolds. I totally forgot for a second, and in about 2 weeks, I will have forgotten forever. I will never forget last fall, or the one before that, or the one before that. I give you The Best Tournament in Sports.

Sports E.D.

The four letter word at the center of my world is not girl, beer, and most definitely no class. It is ESPN, and ESPN runs the sports world. It is impossible to be a sports fan and be informed through an agency other than ESPN. Whether you want to watch and event or be informed about a league, ESPN is the intermediary. They determine who announces the game, which will catch the lead in Sportscenter, what analyst will have an opinion and what that opinion will be. With four networks, a magazine, national and local radio, a flourishing website, immensely popular columnists, the broadcasting rights to MNF, MLB game of the week, the NBA three nights a week, 14 hours of in season college sports on Saturday and opinion shows such as PTI, Rome, and the Horn, there are more sports media outlets than can be consumed at any one time. ESPN is unquestionably at the center of the sports world.
A sports media monopoly such as ESPN can have a highly positive impact on the fanatic. With the multitude of outlets, the information is reported as soon as it breaks on the internet, radio, and every television channel. Not only is the information there, but the analysis is almost instantaneous as well. Consider the release of Terrell Owens by the Dallas Cowboys after 11 PM EST on a weeknight. Within 15 minutes of the release, Ed Werder, Michael Smith, and the entire NFL Live crew had all put in their two cents on the impact this would have on the Cowboys, the NFC East race, how T.O. would handle the situation, possible suitors, and where he would fit in best. This type of coverage would be unimaginable in 1979, when the fan in San Diego would find out about the release the following morning in the newspaper, with little to no analysis. For the information hungry fan, ESPN is the Pizza Hut lunch buffet. This is a good thing.
However, like with any other Monopoly, there are drawbacks. The gaping flaw in ESPN’s dominance over sports is the “ESPN Darling” (ED). The EDs are the stories, teams, and topics that ESPN beat into the ground with no sign of letting up. For instance, the coverage given to Owens was not even remotely matched for any other player news over the entire NFL off season. This includes the signing of arguably the best defensive player in the league, Albert Hayneswerth. This is, of course, because Owens is an ED. Need more proof? Terrell Owens may have or may not have had a thought and/or dream about committing suicide in the prime of his career. This is a 10 second story, yet there were press conferences, shows preempted, and a suicide watch on the 6th best receiver in the league. A little over the top? Absolutely. I remember watching the breaking news on Terrell’s personal battle with life waiting for there to actually be news to break. Unfortunately, there was not. I am still bitter about those 20 minutes I will never get back.
Other EDs? The NFC East. The fourth best division in the NFL, yet somehow it is a crime all four teams do not make the playoffs. It is also impossible, but there is still time to change that. Brett Favre? Fine quarterback. Two Super Bowls, one Ring. He strapped it up, regardless of health, for good and bad teams for nearly two decades. Favre was truly blessed with a rocket and a competitive spirit. A fine football player. However, since he has become an ED, the Legend of Brett Favre has transformed into something that no man can ever live up to. The saga over his retirement was completely unnecessary. There were two days over the 08 off season that Bret Favre was a news story: When he retired and when he was traded to the Jets. There was no reason for me to know about the texts he was sending the GM from Mississippi, or for me to watch him run stairs and throw passes at a high school. This is not newsworthy, let alone headline material for the worldwide leader. The only reason it is presented in such a fashion is because ESPN falls in love with certain stories and topics, and runs with them, telling the viewer it is important; and because it is on ESPN it is important. And yes, there actually are THIRTEEN other teams in the American League, and some of them may have signed a free agent or two this off season. I really don’t know, it isn’t on the web site. But I can tell you how Jeter feels about the Mirror Photos, that C.C. is an Oakland Raiders fan, and that the Mark Tex-whatever signing will put Jeter in an awkward position when he no longer has Short Stop range in 3 years but is still under contract. Yes, that is correct, 2012 position battles taking place in the War Room between Steve Phillips and John Kruk. The Greatest Rivalry in Sports? You bet. Nationally Televised 19 times, five minute montages that will undoubtedly include Bucky Dent, Aaron Boone, the A-Roid Slap, and will most likely conclude with lightning bolts, thunder, and Petey “ole”ing Don Zimmer’s malicious and/or sexual advances.
The Boston/New York rivalry dates back to the beginning of baseball, the Highlanders and the Pilgrims were flagship franchises in the original American League; no one debates this. However, until ESPN made the rivalry more important than any other aspect in baseball, no one cared outside of Boston and New York. The Dodgers and the Giants hate each other just as much as Boston and New York, and the fans have felt just as passionately for just as long. The same can be said for the Cubs and the Cardinals, where a three game weekend series at the end of August can make or break careers. Imagine if Peter Gammons got his start with the St. Louis Post Dispatch instead of a Boston paper, the Cubs /Cards series would be the greatest rivalry in sports. The dynamics are undeniably similar; two major cities, intensely passionate about their teams that are more popular than any other team in the city. The one franchise going decades without a World Championship, decades of futility, while the other has a history of championships and a boat load of Hall of Famers. Both teams have historic stadiums, premier managers and elite players. The Cubbies and Cards are consistently in the playoff push as of late, and have marketable, extremely talented players. Nothing means more to the two cities than when the hated rival is in town, you can feel it in the air when walking towards the stadium at Busch. The Cubs are here, and we need to defend our home. This is baseball and this is a rivalry. However, only two cities know about it. The rest of the country is force fed Boston/New York not because the rivalry is better, or that the teams are better; but because ESPN has chosen the two teams as their baseball ED’s.
Does the NFC East get all the attention because it is the most popular division in football, or is it the most popular division in football because it gets all the attention? One thing is for certain, it is most definitely not the best division in football. The NFC South, as a division, had a better overall record. The AFC South, AFC East, and NFC East all had 38 wins. There is no reason to say the best teams in football are found in NFC East. The benching of McNabb was national news, but the quarterback toggling in Tampa Bay, Minnesota, Tennessee, Kansas City, and Cleveland flew under the radar without daily Jaworski analysis. McNabb is clearly a talented quarterback, he lead his team to within one game of the Super Bowl; but why does his benching and his overall importance take precedent over all others when only Philly fans care? ESPN tells us to, and like good sports fans, we obey.
Opening Day is this Sunday, and we as a nation should do our very best to passionately cheer for the teams close to our hearts; even if that team plays in Tampa, Kansas City, or Oakland, and not the Northeast. Eventually that Dodgers/Giants rivalry, that for years pit one coworker against another in a cross town battle will be on the same plane in our minds as the Yanks and Sox. Eventually a Matt Ryan led Falcons will find themselves under the same microscope after a blowout loss in the Superdome that the Cowboys find themselves under weekly. There is just as much charisma and talent in the rest of the sporting world, and it’s about time we all found out.

Special Guest Cody "Multiple illigitimate sons" Frichtl

In light of Manny signing on the dotted line.

Clark: So should I start saving for World Series tickets now?
Cody: You must have bought a Yankees hat today, cuz I know your not thinking Manny will lead to Dodgers.
Clark: Your right, many has done nothing to show he can destroy national league pitching.
Cody: Manny is to baseball what the unibomber is to the postal service.
Clark: Manny is to LA what Karl Rove is to the bush campaign.
Cody: You are to steroids and overall hair as to Manny is to being a bad teammate and a sales ticket trip.
Clark: The poster child? Yes. About to be Rich? Yes again.
Cody: Manny slurs his words more than john daly at an open bar on the Hooter Tour. I don't care how much money he makes.
Clark: Manny does for the Dodgers what Air Bud did for Golden Retrievers
Cody: Many represents to Dodgers the way Hillary Clinton reps all women.
Clark: Manny is dirtier at the plate than Louie Anderson at the $1.99 buffet on the outskirts of Reno, NV.
Cody: Manny plays the outfield sloppier than Joe Namath on MNF
Clark:Manny hits West Coast pitching harder than Pacman Jones hits a greedy stripper at Scores.
Cody: Manny is a worse team player than Bin Laden on the Pakistan Cricket Team.
Clark: Manny carries more whining kids to the promise land than Moses.
Cody: Manny's teammates pretend to like him more than Bayern Munich pretends Landon Donovon is part of their team.
Clark: Manny does for the Dodgers what Top Gun did for overtly homosexual scenes in heterosexual movies.
Cody: (Explitive laced comment)
Clark: Manny is to the Dodgers what Dave Mathews is to the Dave Mathews Band.
Cody: Manny is to the Dodgers wha Bill Walton is to commentating.
Clark: Manny does less in July than Bill Clinton on "Chores Day."
Cody: Many does less in July than the Vampire in Twilight.